Same Sex Marriage, Politics, and the Jesus Stick
"Someone in the crowd said to Jesus, 'Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.' But Jesus said to him, 'Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?'”
-Luke 12:13-14
I have great sympathy for this “someone in the crowd.” I make Jesus into my judge and arbitrator all the time – especially when it comes to justice issues. And the funny thing about those justice issues is that Jesus always, I mean always, agrees with me.
Take same-sex marriage, for example. I’ve written about my theological defense of same-sex marriage – and I know Jesus agrees with me, because Jesus and I are tight.
So, you’d think I’d be ecstatic over President Obama’s support of same-sex unions, but, I’m not. It feels cheap. It’s not just the criticism that Obama’s position over the years looks more like political waffling than thoughtful evolution. It feels cheap because it’s about power.
I’m all about social justice, including marriage equality. If same sex couples want to get married, I say go ahead. It’s not going to threaten my marriage, or any heterosexual marriage. But here’s my problem: The more passionately I feel about social justice issues, the more I dismiss another point of view. And soon a strange thing happens in our culture. Once we dismiss another’s point of view, they dismiss our point of view. Soon, our culture is trapped in a contagious cycle of dismissing other viewpoints, which soon leads to dismissing other people entirely. When we fall into this cycle, it’s no longer about the political issue, it’s about political power. And we seek the highest authority to make such claims to political power, which for liberal and conservative Christians alike, is Jesus.
Because, you know, Jesus and I are tight like that.
Historically, we’ve been very good at using Jesus to fight our political battles. But then Jesus comes and says stuff like, “Who set me to be judge or arbitrator over you?” Well, apparently, we did. Just like that “Someone in the crowd”, we resort to Jesus when we fall into political power struggles.
“Jesus never said anything about homosexuality.”
“Jesus was against homosexuality because he referred to marriage as being between a man and a woman.”
I want us to stop the Jesus talk. All this Jesus talk from the left and the right is about political power. And that’s the ugly, nasty rub of all this. It looks as though we want different things. But in reality, the left and the right desire the same thing: political power over and against the other. And then we Christians drag Jesus into this mess we created. When we turn Jesus into a political power figure, we turn the Prince of Peace into a weapon of political warfare as we beat our opponent over the head with our Jesus Stick. And then they beat us over the head with their Jesus Stick.
And then someone hears Jesus off in the distance saying,
Who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?
Now, do I think the Spirit of Jesus is guiding our culture into affirming same sex marriage? Yes. I do. And I believe that same Spirit is concerned with politics – with the way we structure our lives together. But when I affirm a position so fervently that I dismiss another person because of a conflicting point of view, I’m no longer guided by the reconciling Spirit of Jesus, but by a spirit of exclusion.
The Hunger Games Part 6: The Fear of Death and the Hope for Life: Katniss and Perpetua
Does the Hunger Games offer a Christian ethic in confronting the violence of our world? In this video, Adam argues that while the Hunger Games series warns us about running our lives by the fear of death and where that fear could lead us - into violent annihilation. The Hunger Games offers that warning, but doesn't offer an alternative way to confront violence. Instead of looking to Katniss as our model, Adam claims we should look to Perpetua, a 3rd century Roman woman who, like Katniss, was forced into an arena of violence, but Perpetua overcame her fear of death and chose to respond in a different way. The difference between them is the difference between destruction and the hope for a better world.
The Hunger Games Blog Series - Table of Contents
The Hunger Games Part 1: The Hope for a Better World
The Hunger Games Part 2: The Desire for a Better World
The Hunger Games Part 3: The Desire for Peace
The Hunger Games Part 4: The Desire to Subvert Evil
The Hunger Games Part 5: The Desire to Love
The Hunger Games Part 6: The Fear of Death and the Hope for Life: Katniss and Perpetua
The Hunger Games Part 5: The Desire to Love
My hatred of the Capitol has not lessened my hatred of my competitors in the least.
Katniss Everdeen, The Hunger Games, 238
But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
Jesus, Matthew 5:44
I value the loving self-sacrifice that we find in the first book of The Hunger Games series. There are two beautiful moments in the book that I think are worth exploring. The first moment comes at the reaping. All of District 12 has assembled to see who will be their tributes in the Hunger Games. Primrose Everdeen (Katniss’s sister) was randomly chosen as a tribute in the Hunger Games. After Primrose’s name was called, Katniss ran to the stage to take her sister’s place as a tribute. Katniss sacrificed her life so that her sister could live. It’s a touching moment of sacrificial love that moves the whole crowd (24).
Peeta provides the second example of self-sacrifice. When Katniss was just 11 years old, her father died in a mine accident. After her father’s death, she became the provider for her family. Her mother and sister were at risk of starving to death unless Katniss could provide food for them. Katniss did her best, but one evening she headed home without any food. She passed by some houses and looked in their trash bins for rotted vegetables or bones, “something no one but [her] family was desperate enough to eat” (29). Unfortunately, the bins were empty, but she soon passed by the baker’s house, where she could smell the aroma of fresh bread. She looked desperately for food in the baker’s trash bins, but nothing was there. The baker’s wife ran outside, scolded Katniss, and threatened to call the “Peacekeepers” (the police). Katniss felt hopeless and thought, “let me die right here” (30). But Peeta intentionally burned two loaves of bread so he could give them to Katniss. He took a beating from his mother for burning the bread, who then yelled at him, “Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature. Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!” As Peeta walked to the pig, he looked in Katniss’s direction and threw the bread toward her. “Why would he have done it?” Katniss wondered. “He didn’t even know me. Still, just throwing me bread was an enormous kindness that would have surely resulted in a beating if discovered. I couldn’t explain his actions” (32-33). We discover later in the book that Peeta “had a crush on [Katniss] ever since [he] could remember” and that he had the affectionate feelings for Katniss before she even knew he was alive (130).
Katniss and Peeta provide us with wonderful acts of love and self-sacrifice that took tremendous amounts of courage. I admire these fictional characters for that, but I don’t want to confuse their self-sacrifice with the self-sacrifice of Jesus. Katniss and Peeta sacrifice themselves for people they already felt affection for and loved. Indeed, that's a wonderful thing, but Jesus took sacrificial love a step further. He told his followers that they should treat their enemies in ways of love and self-sacrifice, too. He told them,
You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. (Matthew 5:44)
The Hunger Games is a brilliant book and I look forward to exploring the other two books in the series. This fictional account of Panem has a lot to teach us about the dynamics of human violence. But it doesn’t provide the solution to the problem of violence, which is a universal love that includes even our enemies.
Today is Good Friday. I often wonder why the day that Jesus died at the hands of the Roman and religious authorities is called “Good.” I’m convinced it’s because that on Good Friday Jesus revealed the only way to subvert the satanic mechanism of violence. (See part 4 of this series for more on that.) One way that Rome kept the “peace” was through the violent crucifixion of anyone who was deemed a threat to Rome. Jesus stood up to Roman violence by offering another way of life. He called it the Kingdom of God. It’s a way of life that leads to nonviolence, love, and forgiveness. Why would Rome see this as a threat? Because it challenged their violent ways of keeping peace. So they crucified him. This is where Christians talk about atonement. There is an angry, wrathful divinity that demands blood here, but it's not God - it's humans. Instead of praying for vengeance, which would only perpetuate the satanic mechanis, Jesus, the One who represents God, prayed words of forgiveness. As he hung from the cross, Jesus forgave those who killed him. “Father,” he said, “forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).
In a few days we will celebrate Easter and the resurrection. After his death, Jesus came back to his followers. The importance of the resurrection is that Jesus offers peace to those who betrayed him. This is how God works. God’s peace does not come in uniting in violence against another. The Hunger Games reveals that’s how humans often create peace. Jesus reveals that God is not out to get anyone; that God doesn’t need victims to make peace. On the cross and in the resurrection, Jesus defeated the satanic mechanism by offering us a new way of creating community that’s not based on the violent death of another, but based on a community and a peace that comes through sacrificial love and forgiveness that embraces even, no, especially, those we call our enemies.
The desire to love in the way that Jesus loved is the hope for the future of our world.
The Hunger Games Blog - Table of Contents
The Hunger Games Part 1: The Hope for a Better World
The Hunger Games Part 2: The Desire for a Better World
The Hunger Games Part 3: The Desire for Peace
The Hunger Games Part 4: The Desire to Subvert Evil
The Hunger Games Part 5: The Desire to Love
The Hunger Games Part 6: The Fear of Death and the Hope for Life: Katniss and Perpetua
Good Friday, Superheroes, and Blueberry Stains
The Boys at breakfast. That's a blueberry stained face. As breakfast continued, so did the stain, as you will see below.
It’s Holy Week, so I thought that when the opportunity presented itself, I’d talk with the Boys (ages 5 and 3) about Good Friday and the death of Jesus.
Opportunity came this morning at breakfast.
“Dad.” Began the oldest Boy. “What days do we have school this week?”
“Every day except for Friday.” I responded. “Do you know why you don’t have school on Friday?”
“No.”
“Because it’s Good Friday.” At which point I got all excited. “Do you know what happened on Good Friday?”
“No.”
“It’s the day they killed Jesus,” I replied with a little more enthusiasm than I expected.
He became sullen. “Jesus was killed?” he asked.
Oh boy. This was a little more awkward than I thought. We’ve talked a lot about the life of Jesus, but not so much about his death. How do you talk to a 5 year old and a 3 year old (with a blueberry stained mouth!) about Good Friday? I figured I’d just go for it.
“Yes. And here’s what’s good about it. Jesus responded by forgiving them. And that’s how God works. God forgives. You know how Superheroes hurt the bad guys?" (I brought up Superheroes because, well, to be honest, we talk a lot more about Superman than we do about Jesus.) "Well, instead of trying to hurt the bad guys, Jesus forgave them. Pretty neat, huh?”
“Not really.”
Ooops!
I’m not really sure why my 5 year old responded that way, but I can think of at least one reason that Jesus’ forgiveness might not be “neat.” Every year around Holy Week I bring up the forgiveness passage in Luke 23:34 to my youth group. As Jesus died on the cross, he speaks words of forgiveness to those who crucified him. Here’s the quote, “Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’” A few years ago, a very insightful member of my youth group articulated her difficulty with the passage. She wished Jesus hadn’t said it because it lets people off the hook.
I don’t know about you, but I do understand where she was coming from. We want justice and letting people off the hook feels unjust. But I think Jesus challenges that feeling. The radical forgiveness of Good Friday is universal, so it does let people off the hook. But here’s why I think Jesus’ universal forgiveness is important: if we seek to keep others on the hook, we will soon find ourselves on the hook with them. For example, if Jesus wanted to keep those who killed him on the hook, he would have prayed for vengeance, not forgiveness. His vengeance would create a cycle of retributive violence, putting both him and his killers on the same hook of injustice and violence. Instead, Jesus’ radical offer of forgiveness invited those who killed him to step away from the hook of violence and step into the only alternative, which is forgiveness.
So, my 5 year old didn’t think the forgiveness of Good Friday is “neat,” but I know that he gets it. Children understand Jesus’ forgiveness better than many adults do. My boys, for example, will fight over seemingly insignificant things, but the fight will last about three minutes and then they’ve moved on and are back to being friends again. Forgiveness may or may not have been officially offered and received, but forgiveness is there. Indeed, they have let each other off the hook of anger and violence. We adults, on the other hand, will fight over seemingly insignificant things and the fight can last decades. Most of the time we forget what we’re even fighting about! That’s because we’re not really fighting over some “thing.” We hold on to these grudges because they give us a sense of identity. We like to keep people on the hook of our anger and violence because it allows us to identify them as bad and us as good.
Jesus told his followers to become like children. (See Matthew 18:3.) I think Good Friday tells us that it’s time to forgive like children. Yes, we will have conflicts with others, but it’s time to step away from verbal, emotional, and physical forms of violence and step into the spirit of forgiveness. Indeed, it’s time to start letting people off the hook of our vengeance, otherwise the destructive cycles of violence will continue. As René Girard claims at the end of his book The Scapegoat, “The time has come for us to forgive one another. If we wait any longer there will not be enough time” (212).
We forgave him for the blueberry stains. And yes. It is April 3rd and that is a Jack-O-Lantern. He loves Haloween.
(For more on Good Friday and forgiveness, see Suzanne's article "Please Strengthen My Non-Beleif: A Prayer for Holy Week" by clicking here.)
Please Strengthen My Non-Belief: A Prayer for Holy Week
Do you believe in violence? I don’t intend this to be a glib question with a simple answer. Rather, I hope it will evoke the complexity surrounding our decisions as individuals, groups and nations about whether or not to employ the power of violence to achieve peace. I’d like to briefly flesh out that complexity by putting the present day situation in Syria in conversation with the Gospels. It is Holy Week after all, when Christians retell the story of the use of state power to execute an innocent man known as the Prince of Peace.
At the beginning of Holy Week we find the road into Jerusalem teeming with pilgrims heading into town for the Passover festival. The road as well as the Temple itself was under tight surveillance by Roman troops who were looking for any excuse to execute a few pilgrims as an example of Roman power. I cannot help but think of the oppressed Jews of ancient Palestine when I read about the violence in Syria today. Then as now, people who feel oppressed and under the threat of violence must decide what they will do. To not decide, to do nothing at all, is to invite continued oppression. But whether or not they should resort to violence is no easy decision.
Some first century Jews believed that only armed rebellion would liberate them and eventually they did rebel. There was a war with Rome and in 70 C.E. Jerusalem was destroyed and the Temple burned to the ground. In the name of peace, patriotic and religious Jews violently rebelled against an Empire that was also claiming to be acting in the name of peace. Yet Jesus counseled his fellow Jews against believing in violence as a way to achieve peace. In word and deed, he witnessed to love and forgiveness, even unto death. His disciples must have wondered how the love and forgiveness of a troublesome minority at the far edges of the Empire would be greeted in Rome. Probably with derision, perhaps as an invitation to further oppression, for history offers too many examples that the refusal to use violence is perceived as weakness, as the mark of an easy prey. No doubt the Syrian rebels are faced with the same calculations.
In a New York Times article about the Syrian conflict, you can hear the echoes of the disciples’ choice between violence and forgiveness. The government of Syria is dominated by the Alawite sect of Islam. Sunnis feel threatened and have been subject to shelling and sniper attacks. A Sunni doctor from the town of Qusayr quit Syria’s ruling Baath Party to treat rebels and civilians injured in the attacks. One patient he treated later died and,
…as the doctor walked to visit the body laid out in a nearby mosque, he was asked if he worried that young Sunnis would take revenge on the Alawites. Monitors and news reports have cited evidence of revenge killings of [Alawite] security forces. “No,” he said as he trudged through a darkening peach orchard. “Our religion teaches us to forgive.” Beside him another Qusayr resident, Abu Khalil, disagreed. “Should we forgive until there are no Sunnis left alive?” he asked.
The questioner seems to think the answer is obvious, that forgiveness has its limits. Yet Jesus might ask in return, “Is it better to retaliate until none of you are left?”
As part of the comfort Jesus offers his disciples before his arrest and execution he says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” (John 14:27) If Jesus gives peace not as the world gives, not through violence, then how? René Girard says that Jesus left us with “a terrible choice: either believe in violence, or not; Christianity is non-belief.” It is a terrible choice, indeed, because the way of non-belief in violence is a path fraught with risk. The Prince of Peace himself, even as he whispered forgiveness of his executioners from the cross, was destroyed by the vengeful power of violence. Yet Christians profess not just the death but the resurrection, insisting that Jesus defeated the power of violence for all time.
Is the Christian belief in the power of forgiveness absurd? Is it more prudent and wise to believe in violence? There are no easy answers to these questions. But as we move into Holy Week I hope you can join me in a prayer about violence as Christians walk to the cross with the Prince of Peace: May God strengthen the world’s non-belief.
The Gospel According to Dr. Seuss: Part 1: On Beyond Zebra
To purchase On Beyond Zebra, click here.
Adam discusses Dr. Seuss's book, "On Beyond Zebra" and the Gospel. Dr. Seuss challenges us to look beyond our confidence in the "ABCs" of our world in order to see beyond Z and into the bigger picture. When we don't see beyond Z, we fall into power struggles with others. For example, we often think that our religious, political, or economic perspective is the truth, which puts us in rivalry with others who are also grasping for "truth." Dr. Seuss claims that if we take a step back, we can see the bigger picture. In Mark 9:2-13 Jesus invites his disciples to see the bigger picture when he take them up a mountain. They see Jesus trasfigured (or transformed) into white. Then the law giver Moses and the prophet Elijah join him. On the way down the mountain, Jesus gave his disciples the big picture by telling them that God was working through Elijah to bring about the restoration of all things (see verse 12). Early Christians said God that God restored all things through Jesus. So Paul says in 2nd Corinthians 19 that God was reconciling the world to himself through Jesus, not counting their sins against them. Dr. Seuss and the Gospel both invite us to take a step back and see the bigger picture of reconciliation and to participate in the reconciliation of all things.
Spiderman, Proverbs, and Jesus: Great Power and Great Responsibility
Adam discusses a scene from Spiderman, where Uncle Ben says a proverb: "With great power comes great responsibility." This proverb guides Peter Parker as he fights crime in his role as Spiderman. The Bible has a book called Proverbs, in which parents are instructed to provide wisdom to their children. There are two paths, one of justice, compassion, and love, and another path of wickedness and violence. Which path will we go down? Paul picks this idea up when he talks about Jesus. According to Paul, God was reconciling the world to Godself through Jesus. We have the power to participate, or not participate, in God's work of reconciliation.
Response To Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus
Did Jesus come to abolish religion? Should we hate religion? In a video posted to youtube last week titled "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus" Jefferson Bethke argues Jesus did come to abolish religion and that we are justified to hate religion. But is that true? A close look at the life of Jesus says something very different.
To view Bethke's video, click here.
Psychology of Superheroes: Mind Reading, Mirror Neurons, and Theology
What can superheroes teach us about being human? The Psychology of Superheroes is an interesting book that relates superhero powers to everyday human beings. In this video, Adam discusses the superhero power of mind reading. William Ickes, professor of psychology at the University of Texas in Arlington, claims that science is not able to prove humans can read other's minds the way superheroes can, but that we can infer what others are thinking. We can do that consciously when we listen and try to understand others, and when we interpret body language. We also infer what others are thinking and feeling through mirror neurons - nerve cells in the brain that fire when we perform an action and when we see others perform the action. Mirror neurons unconsciously mimic the actions other's perform - it's as if we are performing them too. What does all this mean for theology? Jesus, on the cross, says, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The anthropological truth is that, because of mirror neurons, we are unconscious of many of the things we do. But Jesus offers a way of consciously offering forgiveness to others. Jesus offers forgiveness in imitation of God and invites us to do the same.
Liking Tim Tebow
Chills run down my spine whenever I see athletes thank God for a victory or for a good play. It’s because I think our God-talk matters. Our prayers matter. When God is thanked for a victory or a great play, it reveals something significant about the kind of God we believe in. It reveals that we believe in the “God of Victory.” That God sides with the powerful, with the winners. Of course, athletes aren’t the only people who hold to this theology – many politicians, generals, business-people, and pastors believe in the God of Victory, too.
Here’s part of my problem – I like the “God of Victory,” too. He (and usually it’s a He) leads us in battle against our opponents, and if we do all the right things, that God will ensure our victory. I find this God very enticing. Indeed, I want this God on my side. The problem is, if I’m going to invoke this God, I have to reject the God revealed through Jesus Christ. You can’t have the “God of Victory” and the God of Jesus at the same time. Jesus sided with the outcasts of culture, especially the outcasts of religious culture. He didn’t go out and bless the successful, he specifically blessed the losers, the outcasts, the marginalized. The religious establishment claimed that if you were a loser – if you were poor, or diseased, or blind – that God had cursed you and it was your own fault because you sinned. (See John chapter 9.) Jesus went to those losers and he healed them. He treated them like they were important, because, for Jesus, they were important. Matthew chapter 4 puts this succinctly. The first thing Jesus did in his ministry was to go, “throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.” Here we see that Jesus stood in solidarity with the losers.
All that being said, I love Tim Tebow. This is more than just a Christian “you-should-love-your-neighbor-even-if-they-annoy-you” kind of love. I’m talkin’ man-crush kind of love. Yup. Me and the Tebow. He’s becoming one of my models. Here’s why: Tobow is bold and I wish I had some of his audacious faith. He risks his reputation by putting himself out there because of his faith. When many fellow Christians and many non-Christians began to turn against him for praying before, during, and after football games, I felt sympathy for him. I mean, I’m sure Tebow is concerned about what others think about him, but I think it’s pretty cool that he’s more concerned about praying. I can tell you this: I wish I had some of his boldness.
Here’s the other reason I like Tebow: he’s forced me to re-think those chills that run down my spine when I see athletes pray. Those chills mean something about my God-talk, too. I can get pretty judgmental in my theology, turning the God who sides with the losers of culture into another “God of Victory” who uses power to defeat the winners of culture. Indeed, there’s an important place for prophetic critique of cultural power systems, but as I break out my inner prophet, I need to acknowledge that I participate in, and benefit from, many of those cultural power systems that create losers.
Ultimately, I don’t know what Tebow is praying for. Is he praying for victory? Is he praying that no one gets hurt? Is he praying for the six million children who die every year from hunger? And is he using his money and influence to help solve those kinds of problems?
I don’t know. And frankly, if I’m asking those kinds of questions to find out whether or not he is a “good Christian” I risk scapegoating him. I risk putting him down as a “bad Christian” so I can feel better about my own participation in power systems, and feel better about my feeble attempts to transform those power systems. If I’m going to ask those questions of Tebow and other athletes, I need to ask them of myself, too. What am I doing to help solve those problems? Not enough. How often do I turn a blind eye to the suffering in my church? In my neighborhood? In my state? In my country? In the world? All too often.
So, I’d say this to my man-crush: keep praying, Tim. Regardless of what you are praying for, keep praying. Because whether you realize it or not, when you pray, you pray to the God who sides with the “losers” of our world. Because that’s the only God there is. If it hasn’t happened yet, that God will seize you sooner or later, and I pray that that God seizes me, too.
