In a recent interview with Commonweal magazine, renowned Catholic theologian David Tracy argued that theological discourse, with its accompanying jargon and disputes about certain doctrinal assertions, is “not the key to religion.” Essential to religion, according to Tracy, is the experiential dimension of participating in liturgies, living according to ethical maxims, and struggling for social (and I would add environmental) justice. Doctrines, he adds, “just … emerge when you need to clarify something if the community is confused.” Tracy rightfully reminds us that faith goes beyond mere “correct” belief in institutional creeds, dogmas, and doctrines.

Legendary Harvard scholar of religion Harvey Cox makes a similar claim in his recent book, The Future of Faith. More specifically, he assures us that Christians are now embracing faith and hope — rather than mere belief in doctrines — as the defining element of their religious experience. And this, he writes, “reclaims what faith meant during its earliest years.”

Cox divides the history of Christianity into three stages. The first he calls the “Age of Faith,” when the immediate followers of Jesus’ message formed “The Way” movement in an attempt to embody the great Jewish teacher’s message. Loose movements associated with Jesus thrived until the fourth century, when Constantine and his successor Theodosius declared Christianity the official imperial religion. It was now important to believe certain teachings about Jesus instead of having faith in his message of love, compassion, and justice. This marks the beginning of Christianity’s “Age of Belief,” an often-dark period when doctrines and metaphysical terror ruled and hierarchies brutally quelled any challengers to its orthodoxy. Right belief replaced right action. Yet Cox states that the uncontrollable spirit (John 3:8) has blown open the doors to a new age in Christian history. This age, which he calls the “Age of the Spirit,” promises to free Christianity from the fetters of doctrines and hierarchies.

As with any transition, however, this one faces its seemingly insurmountable challenges, such as the vociferous and often-hostile fundamentalist movement. Fundamentalists, Cox writes, “define themselves by their unyielding insistence that faith consists in believing in certain “fundamentals.” First appearing in a series of twelve booklets in 1910, these “fundamentals” include: 1) the Bible as infallible due to its divine inspiration; 2) Christ’s virgin birth as proof of his supernatural status; 3) the atonement doctrine; 4) Christ’s physical resurrection from the dead; and 5) Christ’s imminent second coming.

When reading this list of “fundamentals” of the Christian faith, I was distraught not to see any mention of Jesus’ message of love, compassion, and solidarity with the poor and marginalized. These aspects of Jesus’ message are central to Christianity, and yet we see many fundamentalists elevating right belief about Jesus’ body over obedience to Jesus’ words, when both are important aspects of faith. Fundamentalists, however, are not the first to hold such a narrow view of Christianity. Scholar Shadia Drury comments on the often-negative historical implications of this obsession with correct belief as the highest good:

So, everything that comes out of faith (no matter what it is) is righteousness and everything that comes out of unbelief (no matter what it is) is sin. In England, the notorious Ranters were a sect that took this doctrine seriously. They were antinomians – that is to say, they believed that the moral law is not binding on Christians. Because they were believers and were the elect of God, they were convinced that nothing they could do was sinful. As a result, they indulged in every abomination, and were particularly infamous for their sexual licentiousness.

Many could also hold that correct belief in the “fundamentals” and other doctrines exempt them from ethical responsibility. The absence of social justice in the “fundamentals” also verifies that fundamentalists regard the social gospel as peripheral to being a Christian.

Cox argues that fundamentalists are also biblically irresponsible. In chapter 11, he discusses how believing in a literal interpretation of the Bible became “a kind of litmus test of whether one was a ‘real Christian.’” But which Bible do fundamentalists believe in? And how do they interpret the Bible they believe in? These questions prompt Cox to take us on a journey through the three worlds of biblical interpretation to reveal the several contradictions inherent in the scriptures. Rather than dismiss these contradictions, literal biblical readers should acknowledge them and engage the world behind the text, of the text, and in front of the text. Moreover, learning Hebrew, Greek, Aramaic, and Latin can help the biblical reader overcome meanings that are lost in translation. Also helpful is realizing that the Bibles we have today are copies of copies of copies.

Though these are tough times for Christianity, they are also hopeful times. Let’s hope that Cox and Tracy are right. If they are, Christianity has a chance at reclaiming its soul. If they are wrong, and doctrines remain fundamental to religious identity, then the world has much to fear about Christianity.

César J. Baldelomar is a graduate student at Harvard Divinity School. He is also the executive director of Pax Romana Center for International Study of Catholic Social Teaching. You can visit César at his  Web site (www.cesarjb.org) and read his blogs at www.holisticthoughts.com.