Hi, I’m John Green, and welcome  to Crash Course Religions.

So this is the Theotokos of  Tikhvin.

According to legend,   it was painted by Saint Luke and was eventually housed in a temple in Constantinople,   the capital of the Byzantine Empire.

Until 1383, when it moved itself.

As the story goes, one day, some fisherman on Lake Ladoga in what’s now Russia saw the painting above   the lake, surrounded by light.

It had disappeared from the temple and reappeared before their eyes.

And it would show up in several different towns before finding its new home in Tikhvin.

Today,   Russian Orthodox Christians honor  this miracle every June 26th.

But, I have to admit: I’m a Christian, and this is the first I’m hearing about   this flying painting.

Christianity, for me, looks a little different.

[THEME MUSIC] So, personally, as a religious person, I’m not particularly interested in miracles.

Where others   argue that interpreting the Bible literally is the proper way to understand the scriptures,   I find it impossible to interpret any text  literally, since words are themselves symbols.

Many people might say that I’m not a Christian at all,   even though I understand myself to be one.

And this is one of the great challenges of   religion–how do we define these terms  when people living within religious   traditions disagree about who is really  a Christian or a Muslim or whatever else?

For me, the only way is to believe people when they tell me their identities,   and to allow for an abundant and diverse expression of those identities, even though   they’ll inevitably conflict with each other, so today let’s take a quick look at the many,   sometimes contradictory ways of being Christian.

When it comes to expressions of Christianity, as with other faiths, where a person lives can play a huge role.

Europe and the United States were once the epicenters of Christianity.

We’ve already   explored how colonization spread the Christian faith across the world in episode two.

But   these days, Christianity is actually declining in Europe.

It’s on the downslide in the US as well,   actually – although roughly six out of every ten Americans still identified as Christian in 2022.

But in other parts of the world,  Christianity is on the rise.

Like   at the Faith Tabernacle in Lagos, Nigeria – a fifty-thousand-seat megachurch that looks more   like an arena than a chapel.

Or any of the twenty-four thousand temples affiliated with   the Christian Congregation of Brazil, a branch that included over 2.8 million members in 2021.

These ways of being Christian might not look like what someone in London or Indianapolis are   used to seeing, but they represent some of the fastest-growing centers of Christianity today.

On top of location, a person’s  denomination, or religious subgroup,   can also play a huge role in how they  define Christianity.

Both the Faith   Tabernacle in Nigeria and the Christian  Congregation of Brazil are Pentecostal,   a denomination that’s growing rapidly outside of Christianity's traditional European centers.

But to go back to where Pentecostalism first started, let’s hit up the Thought Bubble… On April 9th, 1906, a Black minister named William J. Seymour was preaching to a small,   multi-racial group inside a living room in  Los Angeles when some members were overcome   by unintelligible vocalizations known as “speaking in tongues.” Several entered trances that lasted for hours.

Another sat down and began to play a song at the   piano, even though she reportedly had  no musical talent before that moment.

Seymour preached that speaking in tongues helps break down the barriers between the   earthly and the divine.

Many took the experience as proof   positive that God was speaking directly to and through them.

But not everyone was so keen on the gathering.

Local Church elders rejected Seymour’s teachings,   as did Charles Fox Parham, a white Pentecostal preacher and Seymour’s former teacher.

At a time when the U.S. was deeply  segregated along racial lines,   Seymour’s gatherings welcomed people of every class and race, from white professors to Black   laundry workers.

This event, which eventually became known as the Azusa Street Revival,   was a significant launch point for  the modern Pentecostal movement.

Thanks, Thought Bubble!

So listen, all this talk about denominations reminds me of my   favorite joke: Once I saw a guy waiting  for a bus and he looked sad so I said,   “Are you sad,” and he said, “Yeah,  nobody one loves me,” and I said,   “God loves you.

Do you believe in God?”  And the man said yes.

And I said "Are you   Christian?” And the man said, “Yes,” and  I said, “Me too–Catholic or Protestant?” And he said, “Protestant.” I said, “Me too; which denomination?” And he said “Baptist,”   and I said “Me too.

Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?” And he said “Northern Baptist.” I said,   “Me too.

Northern Baptist Great Lakes Region or Northern Baptist Eastern Region,” and he said,   “Northern Baptist Eastern Region,” and I said “Die,   Heretic,” and pushed him in front of the bus.It’s funny because this is the world Jesus   envisioned for us.

One where we have  arguments over administrative matters.

Anyway, unlike the carefully planned  rituals that are part of the services   at my Episcopal Church–we kneel at certain times, stand at others, and know literally   years in advance what scriptures will be  discussed on a given Sunday–Pentecostal   services tend to be very spontaneous.

The idea is that God himself might take the   worship experience in surprising directions, and participants are along for the ride.

In any case, there are things that Christians across denominations have in common.

Like the   Christian Bible, the holy text that Christians believe to be the word of God.

It includes both   the Old Testament, also known as the  Hebrew Bible, and the New Testament.

Christianity is often described as a creedal religion, which means many of its members   emphasize having the right sets of beliefs.

This is different from a votive religion, like certain   schools of Buddhism, where the way you act in the world is more important than what you believe.

But even that is complicated.

In fact, there was a whole Protestant Reformation about it.

But tens of millions of Christians recite the creeds of their faith every Sunday.

Like the   Nicene Creed, which, among other things, states “We believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker   of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.” And because beliefs are so important   to Christianity, small differences in creed often determine which denomination you identify with.

Now that came to a head in a big way in 2023, when around a quarter of United Methodist Churches in   the U.S. left the United Methodist denomination over its warming attitudes toward LGBTQ people.

A new denomination, called the Global  Methodist Church, had emerged the year before   in response to United Methodists’ increasing acceptance of gay and transgender members,   including proposals to allow gay marriage under church law and ordain gay clergy.

The Global Methodist Church contended that the debate over the role of LGBTQ folks   represented deeper creedal disagreements – deep enough to split the church in two   in what’s known as a schism.

And  that’s just one example of how   Christianity — like all religions — evolves  over time, as culture does – and as we do.

Which denomination you’re a part of  also affects what type of rituals   and practices you participate in.

Or which version at least.

Take baptism.

For a Catholic, baptism is just a few drops of water sprinkled on an infant intended   to purify and welcome them into the church community.

For a Baptist, it can be a dip into   a river or a church baptismal pool, which usually occurs only when you’re old enough to decide to   accept Christ into your life.

Which is to say six.

Whereas in my church you don’t get confirmed until   you’re much older and more ready to make long term lifetime decisions.

When you’re twelve.

In truth, we find differences even among pretty universal Christian practices,   like communal worship.

Some branches of Christianity, like Orthodox Christianity   and Catholicism, hold liturgical services, which follow specific, predictable patterns.

Like the recitation of the Lord’s  Prayer, or the taking of bread and wine,   which may or may not be the literal body and blood of Christ depending on your perspective.

But many evangelical churches have services that might include motivational speakers,   dramatic reenactments, or extended  concerts by contemporary praise bands.

And figures from the Bible might look  different and have different mythologies   across the world.

Most Catholics revere  the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus,   but many Mexican Catholics honor Our Lady of Guadalupe, an indigenous version of Mary whose   image is believed to have miraculously  appeared on a cloak in the 1500s.

Another version, Our Lady of Velankanni, is crucial to Christian traditions in   India and Pakistan, based on another  story of a miraculous Mary sighting.

But wherever you go, one common figure sits head   and shoulders above the others –  and he goes by the name of Jesus.

To most Christians, Jesus is wrapped up in this thing called the Trinity.

Christianity   is monotheistic, meaning there’s only one God, but Jesus is seen as one of “three   persons” within one God, with the other two being God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.

And the really special thing about Jesus compared to the other two persons is that ... well, he was,   like, a person who walked the Earth.

Historians can vouch that Jesus of   Nazareth was an apocalyptic prophet living in the Middle East who was executed by the   Romans around 30 CE.

Apocalyptic, in this sense, means “an unveiling of the truth.” And a prophet is a person who’s in  touch with the divine directly and   shares a message with humanity.

So essentially,   the followers of Jesus believed he was  sharing a divine truth with the world.

So what was this truth?

Well, during his years of traveling, Jesus professed that humans must repent   of their sins, that is, acknowledge and turn away from them.

He taught practical morality–commanding   that the last should be treated as first,  that the poor are especially blessed.

And he performed miracles, healing  the sick–including those stigmatized   by disease like lepers–and feeding the  hungry.

He also taught that God would   triumph over evil permanently sometime in the future, leading to a Kingdom of God.

But of course, the “rise of a new kingdom” did not sit particularly well with the Romans,   who were pretty keen on the current kingdom.

After a famous betrayal by one of his followers,   Judas Iscariot, Jesus was executed by  crucifixion.

But according to the New   Testament in the Bible, he  didn’t stay dead for long,   three days later he was resurrected,  before eventually ascending to heaven.

Jesus’ early followers shared his stories, and over time, gatherings known as churches formed,   which grew in size and complexity.

Those early teachings shaped Jesus’ life, death,   and resurrection into a broader narrative about the salvation of all humanity.

His death came to be taught as “the ultimate sacrifice,” in which Jesus gave his life to   repent for the sins of everyone on Earth.

In this way, he was positioned as a bridge   between God and humans, allowing us  to be part of God’s kingdom in heaven.

And even from those earliest days,  Jesus’ followers believed he would   come back someday to put an end to  evil forever.

Many communities today   preach about the eventual “second coming of Jesus,” and what it will mean for the world.

Now, this core story is combined  with a variety of other stories   in the Christian Bible.

Many Christians study the Bible   extensively to try to understand more  about God, Jesus, and how they should live.

Billions of people across the world practice Christianity, whether in a megachurch in Nigeria,   in a Coptic Orthodox Church in Cairo, in a circle of a dozen silent Quakers in Pennsylvania,   or in a cathedral in downtown Indianapolis.

Its history has shaped not only its own course,   but the course of dozens of many other faiths by extension – sometimes in collaboration,   and sometimes through colonization and conflict.

But what it means to be a part of this  massive, influential faith is different   for everyone.

For me, it’s about using  scripture and the life and sacrifice   of Jesus Christ to orient my life and  faith.

It’s about trying to reconcile   the finite nature of life and everything we see with our ability to conceive of infinity.

And it’s about a historical and theological framework through which to consider the great   questions of human life–why suffering is unjustly distributed among humans, what we owe to ourselves   and to others, and how we can try to bring about a better world for the most vulnerable among us.

But to others, in fact for most Christians, that framework of Christianity doesn’t resonate at   all.

Religions are vast, aligned and misaligned, contradictory and complementary.

But what they   share is a desire to understand what it means to live in this world, and how best to do it.