
There was a time in my faith journey when I believed truth meant certainty grounded by “correct” belief and practice. Based on this lofty notion, I also felt my mission was to bring everyone I encountered to the place where my faith and practice resided.
If anyone failed to accept my invitation to align with the “truth,” then I would brand them as being outside the “correct” path toward truth and salvation. More pointedly, I would condemn them for having an immoral life headed toward eternal damnation.
For this (and so much more), I repent.
Recently, I’ve been asked where my faith is rooted. It’s a fair question for those familiar with my faith journey. I have constructed, deconstructed, constructed again, deconstructed again, and now find myself aligning with one of my favorite emojis.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Seriously, though, my current path has taken me back to my Indigenous heritage. Having spent all of my life constructing, deconstructing, decolonizing and reconstructing the principles of Christianity, I’ve always been perplexed as to why the Christian faith did not square with the life and teachings of its namesake, Jesus Christ.
While Christianity has turned into a colonized system of beliefs perpetuating capitalist ideals and too often abandoning the common good, I yearn for the wisdom of Chief Seattle: “Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.”
Jesus, an Indigenous Palestinian Jew, seemed to embody and demonstrate a symbiotic relationship between the Creator and the created. Chief Seattle and other Indigenous elders understood the meaning of being human, existing within a created system and alongside other living creatures.
The “thread” Chief Seattle alludes to binds us together, and when that thread is compromised, we are all in danger of unraveling. What is that thread? For Indigenous communities—and the Indigenous Palestinian Jewish Rabbi from Galilee—it was love.
Jesus taught and practiced unconditional love, accompanied by unconditional inclusion, which led to justice for the marginalized and oppressed. Love was central to this theology, which, in turn, was reflected in his ethics and ministry. The love Jesus espoused was unconditional and binding, welcoming the marginalized and binding them to God’s loving presence held within community.
Jesus’ ethical standard began and ended with love—a love that leads to justice. Jesus followed the prophet Micah’s mantra, “Do justice and love kindness and walk humbly with your God” (6:8).
For Jesus, God’s love knew no bounds. God’s love leaped over social structures and walls that divided. God’s love was for everyone, especially those pushed to the margins by the political, theological and economic elite.
For Jesus, love was more than a belief and feeling; it was action leading to justice.
As James declared in his Epistle (2:14-17): “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but does not have works? Surely that faith cannot save, can it? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,’ and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”
Jesus’ faith and works embodied a transformative love, drawing people into a community where love for God and others was deeply intertwined. Jesus incarnated the symbiotic relationship between the spiritual and physical worlds, demonstrating that the love of God and the love of humanity were inseparable. One cannot love God without loving humanity, and one cannot love humanity without loving God.
Therefore, the expression of love is justice. The Hebrew word for justice is mishpat, which means “rendering a verdict.” The Greek word is krisis, meaning “a decision rendered by extension.” If we accept the notion that justice is the natural outpouring of love, then we seek to render actions and behavior that benefit the common good of all people.
People often ask me why I hold the beliefs I do, especially when those beliefs contradict more traditional orthodoxies. They usually accuse me of abandoning my faith or turning my back on Christianity. While I concur some of my beliefs are set against what has come to be “orthodoxy,” I contend my beliefs are not in spite of faith, but because of my faith.
My faith continues to be centered on the person of Jesus from Nazareth. However, my understanding of Jesus, his teaching and his example has changed through the years. Instead of over-emphasizing the metaphysics of his narrative, I have instead focused on Jesus as the Son of Man (Jesus’ favorite title for himself).
The Son of Man focuses on the redemptive work of God in relationship to creation and humanity. In Matthew’s Gospel (13:37), Jesus declared, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man.”
Later in the story, he offered (20:28), “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” In other words, the Son of Man is in relationship with humanity because that’s where the love of God dwells—in relationship.
Critics will counter that my theology is too fond of humanism, and that’s a fair criticism. Humanism is the philosophical belief emphasizing the value and agency of human beings. So, if that’s the definition, then I guess I’m guilty, but so too is God.
In one of the most famous verses in the Bible, Jesus says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life” (John 3:16). God brought about eternal justice and redemption because of a divine love for humanity. God put human needs over everything else.
Former Poet Laureate of the United States and Muscogee citizen Joy Harjo wrote: “Humans are vulnerable and rely on the kindnesses of the earth and the sun; we exist together in a sacred field of meaning.” Overseeing that sacred field for me is the Creator, pouring love on the hills and administering justice in the meadows.
My faith compels me to look deeper into the mystery of God, discovering and exercising more of God’s love and justice for creation—a creation I am part of but not set above. Along with my fellow sojourners in life, we step forward in curiosity, discovering the mysteries of God unfolding before our eyes. We are not in competition for God’s love and the resources of this world, but must learn to work together so that no other human suffers the effects of marginalization and oppression.
We are human beings created by God to exist within a created system. So we must find a faith that binds us together in love above all else.
Love over belief. Love over orthodoxy. Love over everything.
And that is why John wrapped humanity inside the existence of God by declaring: “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:7-8).


