Jesus vs. Christianity: Pre-positions & Positions

Jesus called: He wants his religion back. – bumper sticker

It is better to merciful in the name of Buddha than to be cruel in the name of Christ. – Kosuke Koyama

Prepositions in English are among the last details for non-native speakers of English to master. Some never do (including native speakers too!). This post explores the difference between the prepositions “of” and “about”.

Is the religion that passes for Christianity in these parts the religion “of” Jesus, or the religion “about” Jesus? Does worship and religious activities glorify Jesus’ person, or does it seek to personify Jesus’ mind and heart in the world today?

It seems that a balance of the two is called for, but I think American Christian experience is more “about” him, not “of” him. (Your comments below should try to confirm or disprove this assertion!)

For the first two centuries of Christian history, Christians were known as Quakers and Mennonites are today: practitioners of communal property, strict moral conduct, manual labor, detachment from wealth and honors, and above all, detestation of war.

The promotion of Christianity to a state church in 313 by Emperor Constantine, strengthened and united a severely fragmented, radically diverse upstart religion that dwelt on Jesus as the Messiah. Constantine probably saved Christianity, or at least gave it a future.

In 325, Constantine called together more than 250 church leaders to hammer out what the core beliefs of the religion were – and were not – to be. This council at Nicaea changed the faith substantially and to the core. We would not recognize the pre-Nicaean versions of Christianity, I can pretty much promise you.

I cannot prove that Christianity before Nicaea was a religion of Jesus, but it certainly became more “about” him afterwards. Gone or diminished were his hard teachings; now the religion was more about HIM. Christmas and Easter became more important as worship acts than loving one’s neighbor as 1acts of worship.

          Jesus’ religion was not about himself. He did not sing praise songs and worship himself. His faith was Hebrew scripture Judaism in a colonized and brutally oppressed land. His faith always sought out the stranger, the misfit, the outcast, and yes, even the enemy, in order to be converted to love by them. Not to convert them, but to be converted.

          Jesus’ religion remains about transformation of self and world. If Christianity today is not about these holy tasks – if it focuses more on his person than his passion – then it is a sham.

Here’re some questions: Would Jesus be would happier if you were transformed than if you worshipped? If you loved rather than adored? Is transformation of the world (not just the self) the supreme act of worship?

This will be on the test.

Religion “about” Jesus gets into all kinds of wheel-spinner debates: Intelligent Design, homosexuality, beginning-of-life debates, prayer in public schools, inerrancy of the Bible, whether to go to war or not, and other nursery games that can occupy time and titillate the mind.

A Tony Campolo quote tests which preposition we use: I have three things I’d like to say today. First, while you were sleeping last night, 30,000 kids died of starvation or diseases related to malnutrition. Second, most of you don’t give a shit. What’s worse is that you’re more upset with the fact that I said shit than the fact that 30,000 kids died last night.

A religion about Jesus gets upset at paltry four-letter words. The religion of Jesus will be more concerned with the needless deaths of 30,000 kids.

Religion about Jesus is quite popular, but ultimately wrong-headed. The world awaits Christians to start practicing the religion Jesus himself practiced. It all hangs on a preposition to determine one’s position.

(Further reading: see the classic text on the subject, H. Richard Niebuhr, Christ and Culture.)

Bewildered and Bewilderning Job

Satan: “What do you think would happen if you reached down and took away everything that is his? He'd curse you right to your face, that's what.”
God replied, “We’ll see. Go ahead -- do what you want with all that is his. Just don't hurt him.” From Job 1

The gloves come off. When natural evil occurs, if God, who should know it’s coming down the pike, does nothing to prevent it, then an all-powerful God cannot be considered “good.” If God is all-good but cannot stop evil, then God is not all-powerful. Neither concept fits our classical concepts of “God.”

Job knew this contradiction in his own family and body. The Bill Gates + Mother Teresa of his day, Job had it all, and he was good. He was unique in these respects. Got it?

Before you read further, read the first two chapters of Job (I’ll wait while you do; http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201-2&version=MSG has it.). Now that you have read these chapters, notice something really strange? Without telling Job about it, God and The Satan have a conversation which ends up with God entering into – not one, but two – barroom bets with The Satan.

(When I say, “The Satan,” this is the direct Hebrew translation. Not at all the Devil of the Christian Scriptures, “The Satan” is on God’s payroll, with a job description similar to an FBI sting operator.)
Back to the bets. God wagers with The Satan that Job is so good that no matter what sting operation he pitches to Job, Job’s faith and goodness will never waver.

This happens twice…

Now wait just a minute! Think about what you’ve just read. Here’s the wonderful, great and good God you may worship, love and pray to, the One we tout to our children as trustworthy and good, allowing one of His employees to throw his full bag of dirty tricks at Job. Cattle and livestock die. Shepherds die. Job’s children die. All for the sake of some capricious bet on God’s part, who, by definition, shouldn’t have to bet because He knows everything.

God places dice, and people die. Is there anything right about this picture?

Nothing is right in this picture depicted in Job. Who needs a God like this? Who would tell this story as a bedtime story to children? (And the moral of this story, little Johnny, is you cannot trust God not to throw a little evil your way for no good reason.)

Through it all, Job suffers mightily, but not in silence. There is no “patience of Job” in the book of Job. He demands what lawyers call certiori, or legal standing at a court of law. He wants to bring his case into God’s court and bring God’s motives and actions to trial. Job demands accountability, and answers from God: “What were You thinking when You made those bets?”

Job refuses to listen to his so-called friends – who still populate religious circles today – who explain Job’s problems with insipid pabulum. And in the end, God does not answer Job, but only throws him off-balance with questions that have nothing to do with Job’s questions.

Here’s the sports commentator: “God fakes! God punts! God wins!”

What is at stake here? Job, you and me – learning about God from childhood as the supremely moral and good God worthy of worship, and putting goodness into practice every time that we can – turn out to be more moral than God.

That troubles the hell out of me. You?