Christianity: a tool of villainy under the banner of progress?

“Despite its protests to the contrary, modern Christianity has become willy-nilly the religion of the state and the economic status quo. Because it has been so exclusively dedicated to incanting anemic souls into heaven, it has, by a kind of ignorance, been made the tool of much earthly villainy. It has, for the most part, stood silently by, while a predatory economy has ravaged the world, destroyed its natural beauty and health, divided and plundered its human communities and households. It has flown the flag and chanted the slogans of empire. It has assumed with the economists that “economic forces” automatically work for good, and has assumed with the industrialists and militarists that technology determines history. It has assumed with almost everybody that “progress” is good, that it is good to be modern and up with the times. It has admired Caesar and comforted him in his depredations and defaults. But in its de facto alliance with Caesar, Christianity connives directly in the murder of Creation. For, in these days, Caesar is no longer a mere destroyer of armies, cities, and nations. He is a contradictor of the fundamental miracle of life. A part of the normal practice of his power is his willingness to destroy the world. He prays, he says, and churches everywhere compliantly pray with him. But he is praying to a God whose works he is prepared at any moment to destroy. What could be more wicked than that, or more mad?

"The religion of the Bible, on the contrary, is a religion of the state and the status quo only in brief moments. In practice, it is a religion for the correction equally of people and of kings. And Christ’s life, from the manger to the cross, was an affront to the established powers of his time, as it is to the established powers of our time. Much is made in churches of the “good news” of the gospels. Less is said of the gospel’s bad news, which is that Jesus would have been horrified by just about every “Christian” government the world has ever seen. He would be horrified by our government and its works, and it would be horrified by him. Surely no sane and thoughtful person can imagine any government of our time sitting comfortably at the feet of Jesus, who is telling them to “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you…” (Matt. 5:44).

— Wendell Berry, "Christianity and the Survival of Creation"
in Sex, Economy, Freedom, Community: Eight Essays (full essay available here).

Quotes like this can be hard to hear. It can be tempting to ignore them.

Sometimes, when I talk with people about some of the crises of our times and suggest that Christianity might have something to say to us at this historical moment that is interesting and worth paying attention to, I am told that the church is part of the problem, not the solution.*

I often feel more than a little sympathy for this comment. Christian defence of the indefensible (which is quite different from defence of the defenceless!) or unreflective acquiescence in the status quo are both depressingly common. The Christian church has, for all its noble achievements, also many sad failings.

To be Christian is to recognise that this is nearly always the case, and so to expect that I will very frequently find myself contributing to the problems of the world. This is one implication of the doctrine of sin. However, to be a follower of Christ means also being open to grace: to the word of forgiveness, the task of repentance and the possibility of liberation. Such an openness requires the belief that grace ultimately superabounds wherever sin abounds, and so trusting that sin is not an ultimate reality, and so can be turned away from. It is unnecessary.

This openness requires practices that build into our sense of self the expectation of change and growth. It means remaining open to the wounds of false accusation in case they turn out to be less false than we first thought. And it means immersion in the scriptural narratives until what appears normal about life today is revealed as abnormal.
*The idea that Christian ideas are to blame for ecological degradation has a long history within the environmental movement, arising from Lynn White's seminal paper "The Historical Root of our Ecological Crisis" in which he accused certain elements of the Christian tradition as standing at the root of exploitative attitudes towards the non-human world. I won't add here to the huge amount of commentary on this article (which has its strengths and weaknesses) nor to explore the degree to which these charges stick (short answer: somewhat, but by themselves these ideas are neither necessary nor sufficient as historical explanations for the rise of exploitative attitudes).

The gospel: what is it? II

Your God reigns!
Yesterday I began a new series about the gospel, the good news, that lies at the heart of what it means to follow Jesus, what it means to be his church. The attempt to articulate this message to a changing world is one of the chief occupations of the Christian community. It has taken many forms. But each generation must return to the Scriptures to discover it again.

There is one image that consistently comes up when biblical authors speak of 'good news' or 'gospel'. Here’s a classic example in the prophet Isaiah hundreds of years before the time of Jesus:

How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news [or 'who tell the gospel'], who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings [or 'who tell the gospel'], who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!”

-Isaiah 52.7

Bringing good news, telling the gospel, is here parallelled with proclaiming peace or proclaiming salvation. But what is the message that promises peace? What is the announcement that will mean salvation? It’s there at the end of the verse: “Your God reigns!” The God of Israel reigns as king. This was the newsflash, the glad tidings, the joyful announcement that, according to Isaiah, lay at the heart of any hope for peace or salvation

God is king. God in charge. This was Isaiah's gospel. In our suspicious and democratic age, we mightn’t think of a power claim as good news. In fact, it might seem like bad news. Another attempt to take control, more fighting. Don’t we need less of this, not more? How can this mean peace?

In fact, the Roman emperors would send out their ‘gospel’ when they won a battle or fathered an heir: “Good news – there will be peace because I have secured my reign!” But, of course, it was only good news to some. Although Caesar may have been better than anarchy (and whenever the Empire dissolved into civil war, everyone remembered how much better Caesar was), God isn’t like Caesar, squashing all opposition into submission. His rule is not built on the edge of a sword.

Nevertheless, we're suspicious of power, having seen it all-too-often misused. Indeed, we're especially suspicious of religious people talking about power at the moment. Fundamentalism, whether Islamic or Christian, is the new 'f' word.

But we need to ask how God reigns. What kind of a king is he? How does he use his power? How did he rise to power? This good news, this gospel isn’t simply a general principle, always and everywhere true. It’s a specific and disputable claim. It is news, an announcement of a new state of affairs. Neither Isaiah (nor Christians) are simply saying: “Hey God is the king - accept it!”
Speaking of beauty and mountains, five points for each link to other pictures of beautiful mountains on this blog. No more than one attempt per person.
Series so far: I; II; III; IV; V.