Resolution #1: The church will move away from its fear of maturity and stop patterns that encourage worshippers' childlike dependence.
Traditionally, the religion of the West has emphasized a relationship between the believer and a supernatural parent-God who lives somewhere above the sky. A faithful worshiper is encouraged by this deity to be passive, docile and dependent. The liturgies of our churches are filled with references to human weakness. We sing such passive words as "Thou are the potter, I am the clay." Our theological systems have traditionally focused on human ineptitude, depicting people as dumb sheep, passive followers, who must stand as fawning praise-givers before the almighty deity.
The result of this emphasis has been the encouragement of an immature, childlike lack of responsibility. If we can do nothing good without God's help, the nerve that drives us into maturity is cut. We become little more than passive recipients of God's grace. The faithful are taught not to challenge or to question the authority of the church, but, rather, like obedient children, to do as they are told.
The church that claims to follow Christ must take seriously Jesus' words as St. John records them: "I have come that you might have life, and that you might have it abundantly." One cannot offer the gift of abundant life and still require the recipient to eschew maturity. To get beyond passivity in religion is a first step in the necessary reformation that is inevitable if the church is to live.
Resolution #2: The church will cease its concentration on evil and begin to see the beauty in human life. A vision of original goodness needs to balance the church's concentration on original sin.
I wonder the Christian church seems to believe that the only way to glorify God is to concentrate on human evil. Listen to the words of our liturgies: "There is no health in us." "We are miserable offenders." "We are not worthy to gather up the crumbs" under God's table. Even when we sing of God's "Amazing Grace," we have to add that the reason this grace is amazing is that it saves "a wretch like me." We have become immobilized by our concentration on guilt and sin. We say: "We are born in sin." We say that this sin is so deep and terrible an affliction that it required Jesus to die "to pay the price of our sins." We are worms, unworthy, lost, depraved, evil creatures who brought about the death of Jesus.
Secondly, the idea of human sinfulness is undergirded by an appeal to biblical assumptions that are no longer operative. Despite Christian claims, there never was a perfect or finished creation from which human life has fallen into sin. We live on the other side of Charles Darwin, who confronted the world with a totally different understanding of human beginnings. Creation is ongoing and therefore unfinished. There could have been no Fall from the Garden of Eden, since no human perfection ever has existed. Life began, rather, in the incompleteness of a single cell some 3 billion years ago. It evolved into increasingly complex organisms and into various states of consciousness.
We homo sapiens are the only creatures who appear to have achieved the status of full self-consciousness. We are thus the only creatures who embrace how fragile life is, and who face the chronic presence of trauma and fear. In our self-conscious incompleteness, we have installed survival as the highest virtue of human life. That is where human evil originates. Our drive for survival has made us radically self-centered people. In the service of our survival, we wrap around ourselves the protective layers of tribe, prejudice, gender differences and religious superiority.
The problem with human life is not that we are fallen, it is that we are incomplete. A survival-oriented self may have helped us to win the evolutionary struggle, but now it prevents us from becoming fully human. The traditional Christian myth proclaims that because we are fallen we need a rescuing savior, who saved us from our sin.
What we need, however, is not rescue but the power to enable us to step beyond our survival-oriented limits into a new humanity that we have never before experienced. Salvation becomes a call to a new humanity, not the story of our rescue from the fall. The task of the church is to empower people to be all they can be, not to denigrate their humanity until they are made to cry out for help and then to wallow in the guilt of their inadequacy. The church must find a way to couch its essential message in positive terms. The coming reformation requires it.