In our time — a quarter of the way through the 21st century — and in this place (“America”), the word “Christian” is essentially meaningless. Therefore, when one claims “I am Christian,” that claim requires at least a modest attempt at further clarification. For this blog’s purposes, Christian is an adjective. Used here, it begins with Jesus and ends with Christ. If I’m feeling generous, I might toss an “H” in there somewhere. All dogma about Jesus Christ — whether “God’s only begotten Son,” the “risen Christ,” or the sacrificial atonement for humanity’s sins — is either rejected or set aside. What is left is the example Jesus presents: love, forgiveness, humility, service to one’s fellow human beings.
Jesus was not the founder of the “Christian faith.” That distinction belongs its earliest and most ardent propagandists: Peter and Paul. Much of what shaped the earliest moments of Christian development is lost to history; it is, however, perhaps a little easier to understand why Christianity took on some of its primary characteristics by observing the psychological motivations of its loudest and most fervent practitioners, propagandists, swindlers and hucksters. Much of what passes for Christian ideology is authoritarian, which may explain both how and why the religion strove to attain and maintain dominance in so many cultures across the globe. A close second, in terms of dominance and wide influence, is another Abrahamic religion: Islam, which also tends to devolve into patriarchal authoritarianism. Therefore, those of us who reject authoritarianism, patriarchal authoritarianism in particular, to claim “I am Christian” can also encompass “I reject many expressions of Christianity” (or “Christianism,” if one were inclined to reach for a pejorative).
Given that “Christian,” as defined above, focuses on love for one’s neighbor (defining “neighbor” in the widest possible sense), forgiveness of oneself and of others, approaching each moment with a humble and respectful spirit and attitude, seeking opportunities to serve one’s family, neighbor, community, etc., an obvious question arises: is demonstrating hostility towards the most pernicious expressions of Christianity in keeping with the example set by Jesus Christ? Perhaps not. But at the very least, this question leads us to a profound quandary: how does one discuss the qualitative differences between Christian behavior, defined as following the example set by Jesus Christ, and a Christian identity immersed in rigid authoritarianism, punitive and hierarchical attitudes, and impulses towards oppressive political and social control?
If one engages in a thought experiment, imagining the possibility of going back in time to observe Jesus’ closest disciples in the days, weeks and months immediately following his murder by imperial Rome, it is not overly difficult to construct possible scenarios. In the wake of such a devastating loss, Jesus’ disciples may have consoled themselves with affirmations like “Jesus is still with us in spirit” (for example). It’s also fairly easy to imagine how, as the years and decades marched on, mythology could inject itself into these kinds of stories and affirmations. Thus, in time came the mythology that after three days, Christ emerged from the tomb, ascended into the heavens to take his rightful place at the right hand of God, his father. The concept of the Holy Spirit would emerge to complete the image of the one God comprised of three beings: father, son, and holy spirit.
Alan Watts, the 20th Century theologian and self-described “spiritual entertainer,” argued that Christians “kicked Jesus upstairs” to avoid having to actually follow the example set by Christ, but more comfortable with a theology “about” Christ that demanded only passive obedience, active worship, and the promise of exclusive membership in a cult where “believers” were “saved” and would receive “eternal life,” while non-believers would be damned, and would suffer eternal torment. The process of “kicking Jesus upstairs” was not instantaneous, but gradual and guided by myriad influences over a span of centuries. A key turning point was the conversion to Christianity of Roman Emperor Constantine in the early 4th Century CE. Christianity became the official state religion of the Roman Empire, and adopted many of the empire’s hierarchical and authoritarian structures. This led to more rigid and institutionalized forms of Christianity that continue to persist to this day.
None of this is all that difficult to figure out. The historical shaping of Christianity over the centuries is well documented, as is the basic psychology of why authoritarian-minded people often fall prey to authoritarian practices and institutions. But the greatest shame is the distortion of Jesus’ core teachings. In what appears as one of the more credible accounts of Jesus’ ministry is his parable of the Samaritan, as told in the Gospel of Luke.1 A lawyer asked Jesus “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus responded, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” The lawyer answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus replied, “You have answered correctly. Do this, and you will live.” The lawyer, apparently struggling with the notion of having to love his neighbor as if that neighbor were himself, asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus’ reply in the form of parable is worth quoting at length.
A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. By chance a certain priest was going down that way. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side. In the same way a Levite also, when he came to the place, and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he traveled, came where he was. When he saw him, he was moved with compassion, came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. He set him on his own animal, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the host, and said to him, “Take care of him. Whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay you when I return.” Now which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbor to him who fell among the robbers?
The Samaritan that Jesus made the hero of his parable was not the sanitized “Good Samaritan” of our time. Jesus delivered his parable to an audience that looked upon Samaritans as a reviled enemy. Yet it was the Samaritan that Jesus elevated to the status of neighbor deserving the same love one would generally reserve for oneself, or for the most cherished members of one’s family. This made Jesus’ parable deeply controversial, rendering its implications unacceptable to many, if not most, who heard it. Over time, however, human ingenuity contrived to turn the Samaritan into the “Good Samaritan” who was not like all those other “bad” Samaritans.
We humans are all too often lazy (spiritually, intellectually and otherwise), stupid, self-serving and deceitful. If someone tells us to love our neighbor as we would love ourselves, even if that someone is “God’s only begotten son,” our likeliest impulse is to dash for the nearest exit in order to escape that bind. Loving our neighbor as ourselves, much like doing unto others as we would have others do unto us, or even simply choosing to “go and sin no more,” are tasks we can immediately recognize as difficult, if not impossible. I fail each of these tasks daily. It is much easier to make up a god in our own image, even as we tell ourselves lies about how this God made us into his image. Our extravagant narcissism compels us to concoct stories about how “we” who “believe” are the “elect” who have earned our “eternal reward” in heaven, while those we fear and despise are the damned who deserve nothing less than eternal torment in hell.
Concepts of hell deserve further reflection. Hell, this greatest of all mindfucks, has no origin in Biblical scripture — old testament or new, at least not the concepts of hell unleashed upon humanity more than a millennium and a half ago. You can review the scholarship on this topic on your own time. For now, why don’t we simply think through the implications of a god so capricious, and so abject in its psychopathy that it would condemn even the most vile sentient being to an eternity of torment so horrific that it overwhelms human imagination. Do you really think such a “god” will let you off the hook simply because you grovel and scrape before it? No. Your efforts will fail. A god this sadistic will torment you no matter how vigorously you lick its cloven hooves.
There is a concept of eternal damnation, however, that actually makes sense. It is the hell humans eternally inflict upon ourselves and everything else. This, at least in part, is the product of our unwillingness and/or inability to love our neighbor as ourselves, to do unto others as we would have others do unto us, or even to go and sin no more. If we had the capacity to even pay modestly sincere lip service to these ideals, we would find ourselves living in a transformed world. This is a truth that is immediately clear, and easy to understand. And it is a truth we are too cowardly to accept.
Among the more popular stories featured in the canonical gospels are those centered on the miracles Jesus performed. Among those miracles, perhaps the most cherished are the parables of Jesus feeding the multitudes, versions of which are recounted in all four canonical gospels. The crowd grew hungry, whereupon Jesus miraculously feeds the entire assemblage of 5,000 men, along with their families, with a modest grocery basket containing five loaves of bread and two fishes. This magic trick is considered a miracle.
Let’s return to our thought experiment we invoked earlier and imagine that we could somehow reach back into time to observe this event for ourselves. What might we witness? Probably not any magic tricks; the laws of physics were the same then as they are now. What we might witness instead is something much more miraculous: Jesus acting in faith by sharing his modest cache of food and inspiring those in the multitudes to begin sharing their small morsels as well. And thus, the entire multitude ate and none went away hungry. This scenario is much greater than any magic trick; it is a genuine miracle.
Perhaps we can now turn our attention to folks I have not yet sufficiently insulted in this blog post: liberals (to also encompass progressives, leftists, democratic socialists, antifascists, etc.). I am Christian by birthright. I am antifascist by disposition. To paraphrase Clarence Boddicker, fascists don’t like me, so I don’t like fascists. There are plenty of other reasons I don’t like fascists, of course, but my disdain for bullies, thugs, autocrats, authoritarians, sociopaths, fascists and their fellow travelers failed to prevent fascists from seizing the levers of power in my own country. But this isn’t just an antifascist failure: the entire left-of-center assemblage in the United States failed to stop fascists from taking over the primary institutions of political power at the federal level, as well as in many states and localities.
Since as far back as the Civil Rights era, many of us who make up “the left” continue to fantasize that another Martin Luther King Jr., or Malcolm X, or perhaps some other African-American champion will come along to save us and set things right. But we are wrong. What did Martin and Malcolm get for their troubles? They got bullets. Their heirs got to watch a society backslide into the same evils of racism, materialism, militarism, apathy and laziness for which Martin and Malcolm paid with their lives as they attempted to get the rest of us to reach for our better angels. “Why America May Go to Hell” was the title of a sermon King had planned to deliver the day he was assassinated.2 His sermon warned that America risked divine judgment due to its persistent tolerance of poverty, inequality, and social injustice. King argued that failing to turn away from these evils could lead to America’s downfall. And now here we are.
A liberal savior will not come along to save us. And why should one? We have already failed them all: Jesus, Martin, Malcolm and others. The burden of saving ourselves belongs to us, and we will fail to overcome it. Welcome to hell.