Over the past few days, one three-word tweet has put the evangelical world into a tizzy: Farewell Rob Bell.  The tweet came from John Piper, pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, MN and the veritable Godfather of the neo-reformed evangelical establishment (for more on Piper’s influence, see my previous post on evangelicals and interreligious dialogue).  Piper was referencing Pastor Rob Bell of Mars Hill Church in Grandville, MI, a celebrated speaker and author among a younger, more progressive evangelical crowd.

Largely based on this two-and-a-half minute promotional video for Bell’s forthcoming book, Love Wins: Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived, Piper has determined that the book will come a bit too close to universalism for his sensibilities.  And so, with a few clicks of the keyboard, a tap of the mouse and one trite tweet, it seems Bell has been expelled from what Piper deems to be the One True Church.

In the dramatic aftermath of this catastrophic event (please note the sarcasm dripping from my keyboard), evangelical blogs have lit up with the commentaries of those who would rush to Bell’s defense, of those who feel that determining the clear and public boundary between heaven and hell is the job of every committed Christian, and of the occasional cynic with a snide remark about marketing ploys.  The debate has even reached my Facebook newsfeed, where today I spotted this:

Friend A’s status: There’s nothing loving about preaching a false gospel. This breaks my heart. Praying for Rob Bell.

Friend B’s Reply: Thanks for posting this. His church is about 10 min from my house. Some scary stuff!!

Now I do realize that by posting on this topic I am contributing to the drama that is unfolding on social media sites across the evangelical spectrum.  I also realize that I am in the minority at State of Formation in my evangelical affiliations.  And I further realize that this episode has become so heavily swarmed with bloggers that the carcass may just need to be buried.  Yet before it is, I would like to make a few comments about the nature of the swarm.

First of all, there is obviously a “theological ridiculousness” going on here.  Revolutionaries are giving their lives in Libya to oust a madman who has maintained an oppressive autocracy over them for 42 years.  Civil unrest continues across the Middle East in nations such as Bahrain, Yemen and Oman.  In Wisconsin, the collective bargaining rights of teachers have been under threat.  Meanwhile, the cyber sphere cannot seem to get enough of Rob Bell and John Piper.

Given this apparent absurdity, what comes naturally to me is to point the finger.  I audibly laughed when I saw the above conversation on my newsfeed at the utter seriousness with which my friends spoke.  Yet when I am not laughing, I am just plain angry: angry at my fellow evangelicals for allowing such trivial disputes to dominate our theological discourse and angry that such disputes are even disputes.  I am raging, hopping mad at the strong proclivity of the evangelical establishment – and many ordinary evangelical congregants as well – to eternally damn whoever strays out of a most narrowly determined “orthodoxy” that in many ways represents worship not of the God of the Christian scriptures but of a hyper-Calvinist heritage.  In other words, Farewell John Piper.

But hold on.  Did I just say Farewell John Piper?  My finger, it seems, has turned back on me.

Conflict is not in itself a bad thing.  In the 1950 film, Harvey, Jimmy Stewart plays an eternal optimist who responds to a dispute with his sister with this remark: “I plan to leave. You want me to stay. Well, an element of conflict in any discussion’s a very good thing. It means everybody is taking part and nobody is left out.”  Conflict, in other words, will inevitably arise if everyone is allowed to voice his or her opinion.  Indeed, the absence of conflict would likely signal that someone’s voice is not being heard, that we are deluding ourselves if we believe that we are inclusive of the other in our exchange of ideas.

Yet as State of Formation contributor Jenn Lindsay pointed out in her excellent post on the challenge of intra-faith relations, kindness and conflict must constantly be held in tension, and kindness is often the most difficult when it comes to those within our own faith families.  At least this is what I have found to be the case in regard to John Piper: his exclusivism makes me want to exclude him right back.  And I suspect I am not alone in this inclination.  All religious families have their skeletons in the closet, their “crazy Uncle Als” and even their not-so-benign sisters and brothers who do and say things in the name of religion that not only embarrass us but deeply hurt and offend us.  It is tempting for me to want to disown Sarah Palin and Pat Robertson precisely because of the conflict their opinions bring to the table.  Yet to exclude them would be to make the “heresy” accusation that I would be denying them the right to use.

This leads me to conclude that, as ridiculous as his remarks may sound, and as deeply as I disagree with his theological conclusions, I must accept John Piper as my brother in the strange and diverse body of Christ.  He has become my object lesson for the day in loving not just my religious neighbor, but my Christian brother as well.