I forced my Comp II students to labor through Bill McKibben's Christian Paradox: How a faithful nation gets Jesus wrong last week. They're learning to read and parse extended arguments, and McKibben's is an excellent example of deconstructive analysis. The thesis matters very little for the sake of this post. If you care, read it. The conversation that followed was amazing. One of the things that I'm trying to overemphasize is that part of critical reading is ensuring words are clearly understoood in their context. With that in mind, we asked the question "what is the definition of Christian?" Oh dear.
About three-fourths of this class consider themselves Christian, by some definition. Answers to the question used the expected vocabulary: being saved, believing Jesus is savior, believing Jesus saved us from our sins, crucifixon, resurrection, etc. As the discussion progressed, most settled on a more understandable definition: follower of Jesus. So, perversely, I asked the simple question: what does it mean to follow Jesus? That led to no small degree of consternation. I've found that undefined phrases work far better for faith than defined ones.
Excursus: Reading The Magician King
Q: "What attitude is that?"
E: "I haven't got a clue. I guess we're supposed to have faith."
Q: "I never took you for the faith-having kind."
E: "I didn't either. But it's worked out so far. We've got five of the seven keys. You can't argue with results."
Q: "You can't, but that's actually not the same thing as having faith."
E: "Why do you always try to ruin everything?"
Q: "I'm not ruining it. I just want to understand it."
E: "If you had faith, you wouldn't have to understand."
Cue ironic laughter. But it's partly true. Most of what works at the level of faith is above (or below) rationality, and therefore somehow exempt from explicability. Phrases meant to explain the soteriological process are included. They are metaphors or analogies at best, as language about magical ontological processes seem utterly resistant to robust, defined vocabulary. All words about salvation are analogous or metaphorical. This was made apparent to another student recently who asked if I am saved. I replied, "I've been saved many times. Mainly from serious injury in traffic and skiing accidents. What did you mean?" Once the metaphor is flattened, as it should be in this case, the question becomes more plain.
Following Jesus becomes a matter of plain English (in the American case). So, the students seemed perplexed when forced to define it. Ambiguity suits faith far more than reason. The students were caught on the horns of a dilemma: how to talk about obedience and discipline without falling into legalism or (gasp) works righteousness. I finally grew weary of them avoiding the obvious answer: to do as Jesus did, including righteous acts and obedience to "the rules." I then asked how many people in their lives behaved like "true Christians," a qualifier offered by a man who was distressed that his fellow students seemed wishy-washy on the whole holiness thing. The most any student knew was five. Twenty students who are surrounded by church people confessed to knowing less than 100 people who acted in any way that was similar to Jesus. Excuse me: fucking fuck. Are you serious?
This led to the usual explanations. "We're all human. We struggle. Some are better in other areas than me and vice versa. We're trying to do what's right." I asked, "What's the Sermon on the Mount for? Are you supposed to follow those rules?" Of course not. They lead us to understand that we're hopeless without Christ. Excuse me again: fuck me in the face. Really?
Here's my speech. As an outsider I need you to know a couple things. Number one: I don't give a shit what you believe. I care what you do. I judge you based on what you do. This seems reasonable. Number two. If you're punching me in the face, I don't need you to try really hard to stop doing it. I need you to stop doing it. There is no reward in trying when it comes to ethical behavior. The goal is the goal. The journey may be the goal in progressive holiness, but when it comes to punching me in the face, trust me, the goal is the goal.
It seems like deconstruction of excuses is just as important as deconstruction of indefinable beliefs, at least in this context. My experience is that with the possible exception of recovering addicts and people with serious monastic commitments, the people who "try really hard" but still fall short in one particular area are rarely trying in that area at all -- their priorities are pretty clearly elsewhere. Which makes them humans, not monsters; but claiming some nonexistent moral high ground through the handy construct of Salvation (TM) is one of the best ways to murder the kind of self-honesty that is vital to building community and relationships of any substance. You have to be able to candidly address what your respective priorities are. And "I try to be perfect, but I fall short" can be another way to say something like "I'm too busy trying to rid myself of unwanted sexual thoughts to stop punching you in the face." If you can't fess up to not really caring about what other people want, on what grounds do you think you can relate to them, let alone pontificate about faith?
Posted by: Leighton | October 31, 2011 at 11:20 PM
Student: Are you saved?
Greg: Fuck me in the face, what do you mean by that?
Student: Never mind, I think I figured it out.
Ha ha ha ha ha!
p.s. Great post. Are you sure you don't want to be a pastor?
Posted by: matt mikalatos | October 31, 2011 at 11:21 PM
By the way, how was Magician King? I seem to recall you being skeptical about a sequel, and I've been holding off on buying it til I hear your opinion....
Posted by: Matt Mikalatos | October 31, 2011 at 11:22 PM
How does capitalized Matt differ from lower case matt? About halfway through right now, so I'll let you know. It's very different from the first, darker in parts, more whimsical in others. Giving Julia's side of the story has helped tremendously in adding depth and seriousness, not that the first suffered from a lack of those, but this one would be to this point without her narrative.
Posted by: Greg Horton | November 01, 2011 at 10:30 AM
Do you think that experience (having encountered 5 or less "real Christians") is typical? I don't understand why any but a scant recalcitrant remainder would stay in the church if that were the case. Maybe it was just a function of who my parents were/are, but I was constantly surrounded by people who were living out some version of Kingdom ethics, not perfectly of course, but intentionally and at great personal sacrifice. I think I would have left the faith very early in adulthood if that hadn't been the case.
Posted by: cheek | November 01, 2011 at 11:01 AM
I think it's pretty typical, at least in part because most people lack the depth of understanding of your parents. The ones I've met are pretty content with the good news, but dislike exceedingly the hard news. I don't expect perfection in anyone, but I also don't expect them to explain away obligations as impossible and therefore not worth striving for, or worse, as a "school teacher" to show us we can't do it so we fall on grace. Ugh.
Posted by: Greg Horton | November 01, 2011 at 11:16 AM
Everything you said was really great! I'm right there with you. And I must address your language. Not because shocking situations don't deserve shocking words, but because if you hope at all to get past the 20' thick wall that surrounds the evangelical Christian's mind, you lost them at fuck. I was chatting with my mom the other month. Unfortunately, can't call that often for reasons easily guessed by the end of this story. Anywho, we were in a deep discussion about how my way of talking to my children about sex was more successful than her way of, "You can't do it because God said so." and I let the word "shit" slip out. I know better, but well, I'm not perfect. I'm human. I try, but I fall short. Btw, I would rather someone have raging sexual thoughts and stop punching me in the face. Just sayin. Onward, she went on for at least a half hour just coming short of saying I was going to hell for it. I am going to hell for lots of other reasons, so I've no idea what her point was. I tried to explain that it was just a word and not that big of a deal. For Pete's sake, when I was a kid, I wasn't allowed to say fart or butt either. Who decides which word is bad and which isn't? She asked if I really believed that God didn't care about my language and I told her no. I stated that I believed he cared more about the child down the street getting raped by her baby sitter or the woman in Somalia that just had to watch two of her children die of starvation. Do you know what she said to me? Albeit in a very quiet whisper. "Well, he cares about your language too." Its insane, but it is what it is. You have a great gift for communication. If you really want someone to hear what you are saying, and I REALLY want them to, you may just want to leave out the word "fuck." From one foul mouth to another :)
Posted by: Sharlee | November 07, 2011 at 10:46 PM