The question of relevance

“It’s quite strange to expect people to conform to your morals because you quoted a book they don’t read” So says Benjamin Sledge in a post called Let’s Stop Pretending Christianity is Actually Relevant, Okay? He also says that an American survey found that while 75+% of Americans say they’re Christians, 82% of millennials (born after 1990) concede that Christian faith is irrelevant to their lives.

What being “Christian” actually means is something I’d be loathe to define. I’ve heard people say that winning a Catholic to Pentecostalism through a “born again” experience constituted “becoming a Christian.” We sing in our churches, “they will know we are Christians by our love,” and in worldwide statistics surrounding different religions, the persons included under “Christian” constitute 32% of the world’s population: 2,300,000,000 people. We are the largest religious denomination by far.

Yeh!

I wonder what the number would be if we were to include only those who make their life choices on the basis of Jesus’ teaching and example.

If we call the Christian community the “kingdom of God on earth” for argument’s sake, would it be safe to conclude that all its citizens follow the principles that make it an identifiable, different place? Would it be appropriate to assume that all its citizens are there by deliberate choice because they want to be there and, as a result, this kingdom exhibits extraordinary unity of purpose? (Rhetorical questions; no need to answer.)

A quote from Benjamin Sledge’s essay is worth repeating here:

“At the height of what became known as the Plague of Cyprian it was estimated some 5,000 people a day were dying in Rome. Many Romans fled the city believing it the anger of the gods. Most nobles, doctors, statesmen, and priests fled the city in hoards leaving the poor to suffer.

     Instead of fear and self-preservation, Christians quickly invaded the city and cared for the poor, sick, and dying at great risk to their own lives. What they understood was simple: God loved humanity, and so to love God back, one was supposed to love and care for others just as Jesus did. During this time period, Christians not only buried their own, but also pagans who had died without proper funds for burial. Reports estimate some churches fed 3,000 people daily. Once the plague hit Alexandria, the Christians there risked their lives performing simple deeds of washing the sick, offering food and water, and consoling the dying. Rome tried to even emulate this model, but it failed because for Christians it was done out of love, not duty. Romans began to marvel and often whispered in the streets “look how they love one another.”

     Not surprisingly, Christianity rapidly expanded.”

By this standard, it’s difficult to see much of present-day Christianity as “Christian.” Sledge calls the self-preserving, self-righteous, accusatory, hoarding “Christianity” that seems to predominate in Western churches today, “Cultural Christianity.” It’s a Christianity to which walls are appealing, whose engagement with the world is based on self-congratulatory isolation around its own “truth.” A gated community of the like-minded. It’s turned into a culture that engages through politics rather than compassion, that is rights-driven, that is caught between being in the world . . . while not of the world—and having little inkling of what that actually means.

So many Christians are trapped into believing that the burgeoning numbers in Cultural Christianity proves something, forgetting the universal principle enunciated by Jesus: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7: 13&14) The Kingdom of God on earth has always had “kingdoms within kingdoms.” In my tradition (Anabaptist), the vision has always been that in a world that called itself “Christian,” the true meaning of that calling was being lost and a renewal of basic principles was needed—a return to the gospel.

I recently read through the Gospel of Luke, concentrating on how this first gospel recorded Jesus’ encounters with persons as he traveled. I categorized 38 events under: Teaching about the Kingdom, Healing, and Both. And the scores were: Teaching about the Kingdom – 20; Healing – 15; Both – 2. In none of the healing episodes in Luke does Jesus mention the need to be “born again,” but what he does occasionally say surrounding the healings is, “your faith has healed you,” and “go and sin no more.” 

In the teaching encounters, he is reported generally to present a radical, new “gospel” that is highly liberal by standards of then-current Judaism and therefore enormously repugnant to the establishment—but music to the ears of the sick and the poor.
 
It’s in John’s gospel and the epistles of I Peter and Titus that “born again” imagery is used (John 3:3, 3:7. Titus 3:5; I Peter 1:23, eg.). So why is it that Cultural Christianity has made a formulaic “born again” requirement the cornerstone of its message? Why is it that Cultural Christianity sees “being saved” as the bulk of what’s required when Jesus himself expended all his energies on radical teaching and healing? When did “love your neighbour,” “greater love hath no man but that he give his life for a friend,” “love your enemies,” “now abideth faith, hope and charity (love) and the greatest of these is charity,” when did all that get relegated to secondary?*
 
The pull of Cultural Christianity is strong. It promises to make everything nice, promises eternal security, removes the obligation/privilege of serving humanity alongside Christ and replaces it with warm fuzzies and sandy beaches . . . and the certainty of being always and forever . . . right. 
 
Yeh!
 
Is it any wonder that although it may be hugely attractive, when it comes down to real people living short but real lives, so many have declared it irrelevant? And isn’t it a clue to a problem when Christians in the broad culture have become unrecognizable? If we are not known for our love anymore, how will we be known at all?

*(This isn't meant to denigrate John's description of conversion as being "born again." For people who abandon a failing life and find a new one by embracing the gospel, being "born again" is a great and fitting metaphor. Millions have been rescued by a dramatic turnaround. It's what comes after the commitment is made, however it comes about, that Sledge--and I--are talking about.)