What's Wrong with "Practicing Incarnation"

I was recently directed to an article in Christian Century "Our bodies, our faith: Practicing incarnation" by Barbara Brown Taylor, which was given as an exemplar of contemporary theology. While it may be representative of current mainline theology, I disagree that it is worth emulating. My response to the sender follows.


Regarding the article, I take Talyor's point about the intellectualization of the faith among mainline Christians; however, I’m unpersuaded by her prescription for it.

Her call, as I read it, is for Christians to be more bodily engaged in church stuff, particularly in the therapeutic sense of bodily engagement – rituals that look more like yoga, cathartic moments that envelop the body, appreciation of the goodness of bodily pleasures, etc. “The daily practice of incarnation” is the name she gives for this kind of renewal. In contrast, she cites doctrine, which is supposedly dry, intellectual and divisive.

If I had to pick the most prominent malaise in mainline spiritual formation -- from my little outpost in the church body – it would be this campaign for lowercase “i” “incarnation”. It takes the event of the Incarnation of the Son of God and then generalizes it into a spiritual principle of the meeting of the natural and supernatural. Untethered from the historical particulars of Mary, Jesus, the Apostles and the Church, “incarnation” then can become a verb or adjective applicable to one’s life without respect to doctrine. Theologians, liberal ones, then mine scripture for Christian language and examples to attach to it (something they scewer conservatives for doing on other issues).

That’s what Taylor does. She reads the foot washing in John as an expression of this “incarnation” principle, even though it is not particularly connected to John’s discussion of the Incarnation. Why not look for understanding about the Incarnation in John’s Gospel in, say, the first chapter? The foot washing is certainly connected to the Incarnation in the sense that the bodily coming of God in Jesus is its backdrop, but that’s true of everything else in the Gospels – Jesus’ healing with his hands, upturning tables with his arms, speaking parables with his mouth. Similarly, foot washing could be called “crucifixional” because it sets the stage for the crucifixion, or “messianic” because it is performed by the Messiah, or “apostolic” because it is witnessed the apostles. And yet Taylor does not exhort us to the daily practice of “crucifixion”, “messianism” or “apostlicism” (or resurrection, pentecostalism, etc.).

Still, I am sympathetic to Taylor’s frustration with wan faith. But, I’d amend her diagnosis slightly. Instead of calling it “intellectualized”, I would call it “hobby-ized”. Plenty of people who would hate to give up the designation of “Christian” are bored by, unimpressed with or contemptuous of the faith. The bargain they cut with the church is to treat it as a hobby – something occasionally engaging (intellectually or emotionally) and occasionally useful (baptisms and weddings) but peripheral to the core concerns of life.

(I note the danger of setting up straw men.)

My own prescription for renewal, for what it’s worth, is different than Taylor's. Instead of invoking a principle of incarnation, I would say to trust in the sacramental worship life of the church. This may sound boring and obvious, but I’m not convinced it is fully heeded. Sacramental worship is rooted in the Incarnation in what I think is, frankly, the Christian way. It exists as a consequence of the particular life of Jesus of Nazareth rippling through history and being worked out in the church (with all its quirks and blemishes). It is articulated in dogma! It does not need to be spruced up or embodied because it is already powerful and physical. This is where I locate foot washing. It is a sacramental act the church has received from the moment John describes.

None of this is to say that personal spiritual experiences at the laundry line or elsewhere are worthless or that the church is not still working out its mission in ways that may seem new. The point is that the historic sacramental worship of the church is a more true context for these things than a general principle of divine and human meeting.

Extending my sketch of Christian life will, I think, further address this issue of “embodiedness”. I would add holiness, on top of sacramental worship (which itself rests on the Incarnation). Here I’m speaking of basic Christian disciplines such as regular prayer, chastity, service to the poor and tithing (and peacemaking and martyrdom!). Again, this list may seem too plain to mention, but there is, of course, a big difference between saying these things and doing them – not as a hobby but with more shrewdness and vigor than most Americans pursue their careers. And in such doing, I think there is more “embodiedness” than most of us are prepared to handle. In prayer, there is standing and kneeling, icons to gaze at, prayer beads to touch, candles to light and shoulders to touch. In chastity, we mold the raw sexual energy that pervades our body. In serving the sick, hungry, widows, orphans and prisoners – even when we are poor ourselves -- we are likely in physically uncomfortable places (hospitals, housing projects, prisons) and probably doing some amount of manual labor (preparing food, cleaning sheets, changing diapers). In tithing, we give up ten percent of the goods and services we would otherwise consume, which may not seem to be a spiritual discipline until it is attempt; at any rate, it certainly has to do with the comforts that condition our bodies. I am talking about, dare I say it, living according to Christian doctrine.

Jesus’ example of foot washing is relevant here again. It is a teaching on holiness, on having a posture of humility and service. It need not inspire a workshop on embodiedness. It is already physical; it has already been received as part of the worship life of the church. It just needs to be done.