Musings on Richard Rohr’s Universal Christ
With Patrick Mitchel
(From the October - December 2019 issue of VOX)
Best-selling author and teacher Richard Rohr’s latest book is The Universal Christ: how a forgotten reality can change everything we see, hope for and believe (SPCK, 2019). This is not a book review. Here I consider Rohr’s beliefs and ponder his popularity.
Rohr says he represents an ‘alternative orthodoxy.’ His understanding of Jesus sure is alternative. The ‘forgotten reality’ – that Rohr uniquely seems to have access to – is that Jesus and Christ are not the same.
‘Christ’ is, for Rohr, not a ‘him’ at all, but a ‘universal principle of truth’ and a ‘cosmic, but deeply personal energy field’. According to Rohr, since it is Christ, not Jesus, who says, “I am the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6) this verse is not a call to belief in one person but “a mystery of Incarnation that can be experienced by all, and in a million different ways.”
For Rohr, Jesus is a historical person in whom God is seen to be personal and individual. We need Jesus to show us what love and forgiveness looks like.
‘If Christ is like the kite, Jesus is the little boy flying the kite and keeping it from escaping away into invisibility … If Jesus is the little boy holding the kite string, Christ is the great banner in the sky, from whom all can draw life – even if they do not recognise the boy.’
That’s a taste of Rohr’s Universal Christ. If you are struggling to pin down what he means, you are not alone. No serious biblical scholar would recognise his views of the Gospels. If a theology student was submitting The Universal Christ as a piece of academic research, any reputable college would (or should) give it a fail.
Ironically, for someone who champions inclusion, those that do not agree are caricatured as ‘primitive, exclusionary and fear-based’. In The Universal Christ, sin is reduced to recognising that ‘I have never been separate from God nor can I be, except in my mind.’ The cross is reinterpreted as our ‘negative experiences’ and the gospel is psychologised as self-acceptance. In other words, it is hard to read Rohr as a Christian author at all.
However, it would, I think, be too easy to dismiss Rohr as a false teacher telling people what their itching ears want to hear (2 Timothy 4:3). His massive popularity should make us ask what challenges he poses to orthodox Christianity.
Rohr typifies the search to be ‘spiritual but not religious’. A challenge here is for churches to live up to their God-given calling to be Spirit-filled communities of love and justice.
Rohr rejects themes like sin and repentance as negative and judgemental. A challenge here is for Christians to show joyfully that the Gospel is good news that leads to a life of human flourishing – what we are for rather than what we are against.
Rohr displays a kindness, welcome, compassion and inclusion for everyone, yet at the cost of ignoring the power of sin within ourselves and our broken world. A challenge for the church is to hold these two things together.
Rohr wants to make the Bible story beautiful and attractive, yet at the cost of rewriting the script. The challenge is for Christians to know and communicate the Bible faithfully in ways that speak to people’s everyday lives.
And if Rohr’s success lies in how he taps into our culture’s obsession with self-acceptance and inclusion, a challenge for the church is to preach Jesus Christ crucified – however “foolish” that message may seem.
Dr. Patrick Mitchel is Senior Lecturer in Theology at the Irish Bible Institute. You can follow his blog at www.faithinireland.wordpress.com.