What Do You Do With a Chocolate Jesus? (12 page)

“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…” [Matt. 5:43–44]

 

“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” [Luke 6:27–28]

 

Can you imagine running for office on this platform? “Love the terrorists and forgive those who attacked us.” Not a winning campaign slogan—especially in the churchy parts of the country. Ironic, huh? We’re such a Christian nation that anyone who bases his candidacy on the Sermon on the Mount can’t get elected.

Spin the Gospels all you want, there is absolutely nothing Jesus said or did that justifies war for any reason. Not even to defend your country. The whole idea of the Christian Soldier is an oxymoron. Sure, you want to fight evil. Problem is,
everyone
thinks they’re fighting evil, even the evil guys. The result: Everyone fights. Yet evil never seems to go away—especially when we try to eliminate it by killing people.

I admit this pacifist philosophy isn’t a formula for a country’s longevity. But Jesus kept insisting, “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” Longevity wasn’t the priority. Holiness was.

Jesus on Family Values

Despite today’s pious bellowing about Family Values, Jesus was not much of a family man. He never married, never had kids, never officiated a wedding, never paid much attention to his mother, and never promoted family life. When asked how one could serve him, he didn’t say, “Find a nice Jewish girl, settle down, get a job, make babies…” He told people to drop everything and follow him. That’s the answer of a cult leader, not a family man.

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” [Luke 14:26]

 

He’s really serving up the Kool-Aid here. This is very cultish talk. It hardly squares with “Honor your father and your mother.” Nor does it jibe with
Matthew 15:4
, where Jesus quotes God (a.k.a. himself) saying, “‘He who speaks evil of his father or mother, let him surely die.’” Kind of a mixed message we’re getting here.

Generally speaking, family wasn’t much on his mind. The day he preached in his home town, his mother and brothers wanted to talk to him, but they couldn’t reach him for the crowd. When Jesus was informed of this, instead of having the mob step aside to make room for his mom, he said, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.” [Luke 8:21] His own mother couldn’t get a word with him, and she was the Holy Virgin!

In another instance, a new recruit tells Jesus, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus responds, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God.” [Luke 9:61–62] Yet another initiate asks for time to bury his just-deceased father before joining the disciples. Jesus replies, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.” [Matt. 8:21–22] Whoa…pretty cold. Also pretty weird given that it usually requires the living to bury the dead.

There are even parts of Scripture that seem ardently
anti
-family. Check out this quote from the Prince of Peace:

“I come to cast fire upon the earth; and would that it were already kindled…Do you think I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division; for henceforth in one house there will be five divided…father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against her mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law…” [Luke 12:49–53]

 

Wanna bet James Dobson doesn’t have this etched on a plaque in his office over at Focus on the Family? Admittedly, it doesn’t take a commandment to get people sniping at their in-laws, but wow. This sounds worse than my family on a cross-country trip.

Given that early Christians expected Jesus’ imminent return, there was no need to worry about family. The end was near. Three Gospels quote him as saying the Kingdom of God will come before “this generation” is passed. He was wrong. But wrong or not, family relationships didn’t appear to be his primary concern.

Traditional Marriage

While we’re on the subject of Family Values, it’s worth mentioning a point about so-called “traditional marriage.” Through most of Western history, marriage was not the sacred union of hearts we idealize today. It was a property arrangement. The bride was barter, handed over from one clan to another in exchange for land, or a peace treaty, or a whole lot of fresh melons. Yet three millennia of marriage as an economic swap or a political deal didn’t undermine the West. It was part of it.

Another traditional form of marriage was polygamy. It was practiced by most of the heroes of the Old Testament. It was perfectly acceptable to God and was evidently part of the plan. In fact, the Twelve Tribes of Israel are descended from twelve men who came from one father—Jacob—and
four
different mothers—two wives, who were sisters, and their maids. God had no problem with this, and it went on for centuries. But somewhere along the way he changed his mind, because now it’s forbidden. Yet historically, polygamy is the most traditional form of marriage.

Jesus did cherish loving couples and caring parents, but they were less important to him than loyal followers and ardent missionaries. It didn’t matter that the family was the cornerstone of civilization—civilization was about to become yesterday’s news. If you were really on board, your job was to forget about family, money, work, pleasure, punishment, and your waistline, and prepare instead for the Kingdom of God.

While marriage wasn’t a top priority, Jesus did condemn divorce for any reason other than a cheating spouse. To get around this inconvenient rule, the Catholic Church came up with the concept of annulment—that is, pretending your marriage didn’t happen in the first place. I’m not sure why this loophole doesn’t apply to any other contract. Can’t I annul my two-year cell phone plan?

Jesus was also tough on adultery, or naughtiness of any kind:

“And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell.” [Matt. 5:30]

 

If pubescent boys followed this rule, most of them would be left-handed by the sixth grade. This zero-tolerance for error leads to unreasonable ideas like, “…everyone who gazes at a woman to lust after her has committed adultery…” [Matt. 5:28] or, “Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer.” [1 John 3:15] Wow. If you glance at a nice tush, you’re a rapist? If you fight with your bossy sister, you’re a killer? If you let loose a fart, you’re guilty of chemical warfare and should be tried at The Hague? Aren’t we losing perspective here?

Unfortunately, evangelical leaders often do. Reverend John Hagee (the guy who said Hurricane Katrina was God’s way of bitch-slapping New Orleans for planning a gay parade) uses this technique in his church. He guilts people who’ve committed the slightest offense into thinking they’re criminals in need of industrial-strength salvation. But he does it out of love.

Pro-Life?

Of course, no discussion of Family Values is complete without touching on the touchiest of touchy issues, the abortion debate. It’s not surprising that the issue evokes emotion and controversy, but what does Jesus say about it? Answer: Not a word.

This is pretty astonishing given that virtually everyone who opposes legal abortion cites religion as the chief reason. Yet, claiming the Bible to be anti-abortion is legislating from the bench. It’s reading stuff into the Scripture that isn’t there. The fact is, the Bible doesn’t ban abortion. It’s another one of those policies invented by churches and then treated as if it were holy writ. It ain’t.

Anti-choice activists are quick to haul up verses wherein God or Jesus asks us to “choose life.” But choosing life isn’t the issue.
Everyone
is pro-life. The question is—does the word “life” include the unborn? Some assume it does, some assume it doesn’t. The Bible never takes sides.

Most of the time, the word “life” in the New Testament refers to
eternal
life rather than biological life; the life of the soul. Nor does it specify at what point a fetus acquires a soul. There are a lot of theories about all this, but nothing in the Scripture.

In fact, the only verse in the entire Bible that comes close to commenting on how we should view the unborn is from the Old Testament,
Exodus 21:22
, which says that, if men fight and cause a pregnant woman to miscarry, a fine shall be paid. But if the woman herself is killed, it’s eye for an eye—a death sentence. There’s a huge difference in the penalty for killing a mother versus killing her fetus. One is treated like murder, the other like a parking ticket. Clearly, Scripture regards the born and the unborn as different—which is the pro-choice view. An acorn is not an oak tree. So, if anything, the Bible is pro-choice. Point this out at your next Bible class and watch everyone’s expression. Bring a camera.

Jesus on Homosexuality

Nothing. Sorry.

Prayer

Before Jesus winds up the Sermon on the Mount, he delivers what we all know as the Lord’s Prayer. When it comes to how one should pray, he offers this wise instruction:

“And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men…when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret…and in prayer do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their many words.” [Matt. 6:5–7]

 

This pretty much wraps it up for your local megachurch, along with every sidewalk prophet with a sandwich board reading, “Honk if you love Jesus.” Jesus doesn’t want you to honk. He doesn’t need mass prayers staged in a titanium tabernacle big enough to be seen from orbit. He says go to your room, be humble, and pray with the sincerity of someone who isn’t doing it for an audience. The Mormons can send their choir on tour, but that’s it.

The Purpose Driven Cult

What’s most remarkable about the Sermon on the Mount is that Jesus comes off as a gentle, anti-materialistic, socialist pacifist—light years from the Christian warriors of the Middle Ages, or the judgment-crazy, gun-loving, free market firebrands who routinely invoke his name today. Here is the role model for quiet monks, pious Pilgrims, Amish communes, the Salvation Army, and cozy little prayer groups. He’s the Jesus of humility, kindness, and tolerance—the one who asks us to be our brother’s keeper. So where do all those other guys come from?

Well, it turns out there’s Jesus and then there’s
Jesus.
That is, there’s the benevolent Jesus of the Sermon, whom we just met, and then there’s the Jesus yet to come—the Jesus of the Cross. The icon of righteousness, authority, power and, inevitably, conquest. Under the banner of the Cross, it’s not about communing with your brothers and sisters. It’s about Yahweh or the highway. Follow the leaders, don’t ask too many questions, and march lockstep into glory. Not much live-and-let-live
Kum Ba Yah
there.

While the Sermon lays out a creed of peace, love and forgiveness, the Cross will become the battle standard of imperial religion. The Jesus of the Sermon may charm the humble crowds with an affectionate, charismatic persona, but the Christ of the Cross is the favorite of authoritarians—the people who are certain that God wants them in charge. For them, it’s less about emulating Jesus and more about obeying him and, if you’re not sure what that means, they’ll be glad to explain it to you. And they’ll do so with the zeal of a holy cause because that’s exactly what it is. Medieval monarchs, crusading knights, and autocratic popes fell into this camp. It was a power trip.

With the launch of the Protestant Reformation some 500 years ago, one branch of the faith broke from the regal trappings of the Church. You no longer needed a priest as the go-between for you and Jesus; you had direct access. This idea went over well with the pious utopians who washed up on America’s shores in the early going. They now had a Jesus suited to people fleeing the church-state combo of European regimes; one that spoke to the
“Don’t Tread on Me”
individualism of the American Revolution and the western frontier.

Unfortunately, this also produced a culture of homegrown demagogues who ruled their local parishes in the name of Jesus, exalting their authority from their own churches. They defined God’s will, gave marching orders to the faithful, and any authority that might thwart their agenda—even a democratic government—would be vilified as un-Christian and be labeled “oppressive.” The Jesus of
“Get the hell off my lawn!”
was now on tap to oppose any kind of government “intrusion” a preacher didn’t particularly like—such as the abolition of slavery, the New Deal, the Civil Rights Act, teaching evolution, abortion rights, or Medicare.