“Today I Quit Being a Christian" – Part 2

In Part 1 of this post, I wrote that I felt both aversion and empathy reading Anne Rice’s choice to “quit being a Christian.” My third reaction was shame that the word “Christian” has been so co-opted in our culture that its meaning is diluted, if not distorted.

Since this nation was founded, a vast number of people have labeled themselves Christians simply because they attended church or tried to be nice. Meanwhile, they may not be terribly concerned to know Jesus and his Way on a personal level. Many from other parts of the world regard anyone in the Western Hemisphere who is not a Jew or a Moslem to be a Christian. The moniker is a way to classify a religio-political group, not to identify people as Christ followers.

For others, such as Ms. Rice, “Christian” has come to mean a person loaded with self-righteous rhetoric stripped of tolerance. She is not the first, nor will she be the last to take that view. As a kid on the Navajo Reservation, I was ashamed to admit I was a Christian lest I be met with the sneer, “That’s white man’s religion.” Some people believe Christian missionaries worked hand in glove with the imperialist government to stamp out the core of Native American way of life. Regrettably, there is validity in these accusations. It is not hard to understand why one might want to distance herself from a word used in contradiction to Jesus’ original intention when he said, “By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:35)

The word “love” brings me to my next reaction to Ms. Rice’s announcement. Frustration. Hers is one more example of how polarized we become when we ideologize our convictions. That is, we try “to make others comply with or yield to our set of beliefs (Webster).” In this country, we attempt to influence others toward our ideology either through politics or recruiting. Neither are wrong in themselves; we have the legal right to lobby for or promote what we hold dear. Some would say we even have the responsibility to do so.

What frustrates me is seeing how fundamentalism rears its ugly head in the process. Make no mistake, the monster leaps up from both conservative and liberal camps. It is the natural tendency of human beings to want to affiliate themselves. We like feeling right. It strengthens our sense of identity. The more shrill and extreme the rhetoric, the more we feel justifiably compelled to take a stand for the position closest to our own standards. All too soon, however, we become inflamed with anger and give into the temptation to slander, insult, ridicule, or denounce an opposing faction.

Jesus had no problem debating his opponents. He did not hesitate to call a spade a spade although it got him killed. What set him apart from most of us is that as they strung him up, he prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

It is an easy, short slope to slide from conviction to hatred. But at the bottom is Gehenna and death.

It is an arduous, long path to climb from conviction to love. But at the summit is Golgotha and eternal life.

To be continued

LABELS

I hate sticky labels. Well, actually I don’t mind the ones that have the special coating that allow me to peel them off in one pull of thumbnail and forefinger. Otherwise, I believe labels are manufactured in the pit of Hades. Dante missed one level in his Inferno; it is the one whose tenants are consigned forever to remove labels and price tags from jars, vases, and inexpensive collectibles. The labels are affixed with glue meant to stick eternally, and because it is hell, of course there is no water to act as a soluble. If those folk never cussed upon earth, they do now.

Product labels are hard to remove; much more difficult are the labels we affix to others and ourselves. One of the most enlightening and humorous books my husband and I have read in recent years is Look Me in the Eye, by John Elder Robison. While he was growing up, people mistook his affect and strange ways of interacting. He writes,

Everyone thought they understood my behavior. They thought it was simple: I was just no good.

“Nobody trusts a man who won’t look them in the eye.”

“You look like a criminal.”

“Sociopath and “psycho” were two of the most common field diagnoses for my look and expression. I heard it all the time: “I’ve read about people like you. They have no expression because they have no feeling. Some of the worst murderers in history were sociopaths.”

I came to believe what people said about me, because so many said the same thing, and the realization that I was defective hurt.

Eventually, Robison realized that was he not a sociopath, but that he had a special (and not bad) way of being human. He was able to peel off that old label and receive a new, informative one of “Asperger’s,” a type of autism. Now rather than feeling shame, he was freed to enjoy his uniqueness. Understanding that he was an Aspergian gave him a reference point to adjust some behaviors so that he could relate more effectively. It also furnished a position from which he could explain his ways to other people. He taught me to stop assuming that a person who won’t look me in the eye or does not respond to my “good morning,” is shifty, cold, or hung over.

In fact, Robison’s story caused me to wonder about my other labels for people I meet casually or see on the news. Why do I label them when I know nothing about what goes on in hearts hidden beneath Botox, tattoos, or three piece suits? True, sometimes labels serve as useful identifiers for certain behaviors: he is a hero because he saved the drowning child; she is a criminal because she robbed the store. Jesus explained such appropriate labeling this way, “Every tree is known by its own fruit… A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil.” However, Jesus says this in the context of the Sermon on the Mount, and he first warns against judgmentalism,

Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the plank in your own eye? How can you say, ‘Brother, let me remove the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the plank that is in your own eye? Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck that is in your brother’s eye.

In other words, any business of labeling starts with examining the tags that are stuck on me. What labels have people branded me with that are not who I genuinely am, but that still cling to me and cause me shame or anger? What labels have I slapped on myself that restrict my liberty to develop in new ways, or conversely, that excuse poor behavior? Peeling off these labels may be painstaking, with a spiritual fingernail or two breaking in the process. But the freedom is worth it. John Elder Robison would agree.