As professional religion
reporters looked back on 2010, they ranked the debate over an Islamic
center and mosque near Ground Zero—along with
a pastor's threat to burn the Qur'an—as the
year's top story. The threat of Qur'an burning
has dropped out of the headlines. But loud
opposition to construction of Islamic centers
continues across the country. Outside of
Manhattan, metro Nashville became the most
prominent of the local controversies (which
were legion). Brentwood
residents successfully quashed plans for a
mosque in their town as plans to convert a
historic theater in Antioch into an Islamic
center continued despite local opposition. But
it was Murfreesboro that got the most
attention from national media, the Justice
Department, and local politicians. A court has
ruled that construction of an Islamic center
there can continue, but a legal challenge is
ongoing.
Meanwhile, some churches have
modeled a much more welcoming approach. At
Heartsong Church in Cordova, Tennessee, Steve
Stone and his congregants put out a sign
welcoming incoming neighbors at the Memphis
Islamic Center. The church then allowed these
Muslim neighbors to use their sanctuary as a
makeshift mosque throughout Ramadan while the
Islamic Center was under construction. Stone
and Heartsong received extensive national media coverage for their
efforts.
For Stone, allowing Muslims to
worship on his church's property was a matter
of "What would Jesus do?"—a matter of his
United Methodist congregation modeling the
love of Jesus to strangers, just as Jesus had
welcomed them.
Another United Methodist pastor
900 miles away came to a similar conclusion
when a neighboring Islamic congregation asked
to use his church's space for five months of
Friday prayers. Jason Micheli, pastor of
Aldersgate Methodist in Arlington, Virginia,
shares part of his theological reasoning in a
sermon published at Scot McKnight's Jesus Creed
blog.
While Micheli uses more
explicitly evangelical and exclusivist
language than Heartsong and Steve Stone, he
similarly defends his decision by appealing to
Jesus and Christian love: "[W]hen we say that
Jesus is the only way to the Father, we don't
just mean our belief in Jesus is the only way
to the Father. We also mean Jesus' way of life
is the only way we manifest the Father's love.
That we would welcome Muslim strangers into
our sacred space with no strings attached is
not a reduction of what we believe about Jesus
(or a betrayal); it is, I think, the fullest
possible _expression_ of what we believe about
Jesus."
Both of the pastors allowing
Muslim worship on their property appeal to the
love required of Christians as an
authoritative guide for their decision-making.
But it is not self-evident that
this duty requires us to provide property for
false worship. The theological issues at play
come down to whether Jesus' love command also
requires leaders to avoid causing undue
stumbling; or, as Wesley put it, the command to do good works
includes avoiding causing or leading others
to harm, whether they are believers or
unbelievers. Does facilitation of false
worship violate the love command?
Absurd extremes of Qur'an
burning and protests over mosque construction
illustrate the fact that the love command
requires theological interpretation in order
to be correctly applied. A Terry Jones
apologist might argue that the love command
dictates a demonstration. At the other end of
the spectrum, Herman Melville's Moby Dick gives a
classic illustration of the overuse of the
love commandment, as the Presbyterian Ishmael
argues himself into idol worship with Queequeg
using "biblical" reasoning:
What is worship?—to do
the will of God—THAT is worship. And what is
the will of God?—to do to my fellow man what I
would have my fellow man to do to me—THAT is
the will of God. Now, Queequeg is my fellow
man. And what do I wish this Queequeg would do
to me? Why, unite with me in my particular
Presbyterian form of worship. Consequently, I
must then unite with him in his; ergo, I must
turn idolater. So I kindled the shavings;
helpd [sic] prop up the innocent little idol;
offered him burnt biscuit with Queequeg;
salaamed before him twice or thrice; kissed
his nose; and that done, we undressed and went
to bed, at peace with our consciences and all
the world.
What are the options between
(for example) mocking the Qur'an and shared
worship? There are many intermediate steps to
take short of facilitating worship: sharing
recreational space and recreational
activities, dining together, evangelism,
clarity on the exclusive claims of Christ,
and—in our American context—supporting the
right of others to publicly assemble for
worship are all important facets of the love
command.
Significant theological issues
and pastoral concerns are at play here, and
they are not limited to the narrow question of
sharing worship space. Similar issues arise as
a congregation ends its tenure. As smaller
churches close their doors and larger churches
move for more space, the question of other
faiths and church property becomes acute. One
PC(USA) congregation put their property on the
market only to receive an offer from a Hindu
congregation, to the consternation of a fair
portion of the Christian congregation.
But even if they decline that
offer, there are many ways in which churches
may be unfaithful stewards of the property God
has put in their hands, and it is not clear
that other faiths are the worst possible
option. What if the alternative is putting the
property into the hands of a drugstore selling
the morning-after pill, or a gas station
marketing lottery tickets and pornography to
the poor?
A host of related questions also
arise, and the slippery slope turns out not
only to be steep, but wide. Could a Christian
architect, plumber, or lawyer in good
conscience work to design, build (or work up
closing papers for) a building for Hindu
worship? Given that our Buddhist neighbors
often establish altars in their houses, should
we then resist participating in the
construction of their homes? Would we, as a
Christian congregation, perhaps desire someday
to purchase property from another faith or a
heretical sect? Does that warrant the use of
the Golden Rule? Does the Golden Rule apply to
congregations as it does to people?
Ultimately, as these and other
questions confront us, the answers may be a
matter of wisdom rather than obvious
application of biblical teaching. They will
also reflect the deployment of broader
theological principles such as the sacramental
nature (or lack thereof) of space and place.
