When did we create a Christianity that promotes the proud & successful and excludes the disenfranchised & the weak?
I was sitting, recently, at a charity dinner, conversing with our table, filled with delightful Christian friends. They were talking about people they admired in the Christian community. All of the people mentioned were successful businesspeople or community leaders, all male, all celebrated in society for their exceptional personality attributes, achievements, and accomplishments. In the same conversation, there was mention of associates and colleagues who had fallen from grace, with almost no mention of the widows and orphans, “collateral damage” of these erstwhile role models who had (so sad) suffered from mental illnesses, broken marriages, financial problems, political misteps or public disgrace. It struck me that this is all too common in the conversations we, as Christians, engage in. We clearly reveal our prejudices about who we identify as worthy of praise and honor & people who are a disgrace, those who have been put “outside the camp”, somehow shameful and an embarrassment to us.
Then I thought about Jesus– our example.
“He was despised and rejected by men. Man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief. Surely, He carried our iniquities and transgressions. And the shame that we incurred on ourselves was put upon Him.”
What has happened to our conscience, our Christ-consciousness? I hate to say it, but more & more, I am feeling ashamed of being identified with a Christian culture that carelessly identifies with worldly success more than to set ourselves in alliance with the poor & the needy, the confused & the downtrodden, the oppressed & the broken.
Oh yes, we give awards to the Humanitarian of the Year, the exemplary Christian servant who has done something remarkable– innovative, sacrificial, or has given a large sum of money to care for the needy and marginalized, the widows and orphans, the rejects of society at large. We celebrate these saints of altruism at banquets that cost us $150 per plate or more. These events can be really fun and advantageous to our status, to boost our social collateral– we can get our names on plaques, donor lists, and society pages, to our own acclaim… and a lot of people think we’re swell!
Is this the example that Jesus set for us, that we should follow in His steps?
Now, I like a good charity gala as much as anyone, as long as there’s good company, wine, and dancing, and not just an overpriced chicken breast with green beans. But my mind keeps turning to a wooden carving of Christ that I saw in a cathedral in Prague, Czech Republic. When we visited Prague in the crisp, cold winter between Christmas and New Year’s (2010), we took a private city tour and the crown jewel was the castle overlooking the city and the treasure at the center which is the magnificent cathedral. We were told by our tour guide that Prague is 80% atheist and most people don’t put any stock in faith or religion. But as we walked into the hushed grandeur of this gothic wonder, one of the great cathedrals of the world, the tour guide said that there were Christian relics and religious artwork but that our tour didn’t include it. He added that if you tell the attendants that you are truly a believer, they are required to let you walk in the cathedral and worship. They will not make you pay the high fee to see the art that lines the sanctuary, inner chapels and altars around the parameters of this archaic masterpiece that points to a forgotten God. Our tour guide teased me, when I said I was believer, and said “Go tell them and they might let you see the wooden Christ, in the Annunciation and the chapel of the relics.” So, I told the youthful guards that I came to pray and was permitted to walk through this highly artistic and deeply historical rendering of a devout faith, which (despite its beauty and compassion) had failed to move the heart of the culture to God. I stood briefly at a wood-carved crucifix of Jesus, a crude representation, forged from a massive piece of wood. Jesus is stretched out, the suffering, comprehensive, simple. Christ crucified, larger than life, arms reached out, in agony, tucked away in an alcove, that the locals don’t bother to visit and only a few tourists pay the price to see. This Jesus is seared in my memory.
I read about missionaries that came, late in the game– the 3rd to 9th century, to the almost-savage, treacherous, mystical, magical, pagan culture that was this part of Central-Eastern Europe. It was a Christianity that the book said & our hosts confirmed was only superficially adopted and never truly captured the hearts of the people. And there in a corner, I came to worship Christ, rejected and suffering for a city of people, well-acquainted with grief and years of oppression and suffering.
I wonder if we are more like these atheists than we like to think. The city of Prague is filled with glorious churches and sacred music, monuments, and memorabilia. But at the same time, it’s not so much about Christ or Christianity or the Kingdom of God , but a walk through the stuff of religion which was used to make a name for oneself, to put a place on the map, to gain recognition and status. Using the stuff of religion to make us great.
What do we use Christianity for?
Who do we despise and reject to achieve our aims?
And where is Jesus?
Help-- I'm Surrounded by Narcissists! 