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Jesus
Missing
Jesus
by Drew
Dyck
© 2005 All Rights Reserved
My
college newspaper rarely addresses
religious topics. So I was a little
surprised to pick up the latest
edition and see Michael Angelo’s
“The Creation of Adam”
frame from the Sistine Chapel covering
the lead page. I have seen the sprawling,
cosmic depiction so many times that
initially I failed to notice that
the newspaper had altered the picture.
While God’s majestic form
was the same, with one arm extending
through the heavens down to his
creation, Adam had been significantly
changed. Instead of holding his
hand out tenderly towards God, his
middle finger protruded defiantly
at the Creator.
As a Christian I found
this distortion offensive. Yet I
had to admit that the parody did
encapsulate a prevailing attitude
on campus. Days earlier sitting
at a campus café, I couldn’t
help overhearing a lively conversation
at the table next to me. Two professors
were discussing a variety of topics,
when one statement caught my attention.
“I hate Christianity,”
one of them said turning suddenly
pensive and looking out the window.
“I really hate it.”
I stared into my coffee cup eagerly
awaiting his reasoning, but none
was given. The other professor simply
nodded his agreement and the conversation
moved on. Perhaps I could have dismissed
the professor’s animosity,
if his was an isolated view. But
I have heard his sentiment echo
in the comments of fellow students.
In one way it’s
not difficult to see what creates
this hostility. A young man named
Daniel comes to our college every
day to preach. He stands in the
middle of the courtyard and shouts
at the passing students. Daniel
has the sensitivity of a wrecking
ball. “God hates you!”
He cries out so loudly that his
voice breaks. “All you little
devils are going to fry. One day
God is going to skip you like flat,
smooth stones into the lake of fire.
He’s going to laugh when he
does it and I’m going to laugh
too!” On one occasion a student
approached him timidly, “Daniel
this is hate-free campus. I don’t
think you should be saying these
things.” This only filled
Daniel with fresh fury. “Oh
it is, is it? Well, then let me
tell you little vermin, I’m
here to bring back the hate!”
I have challenged
Daniel’s hermeneutic and approach
many times. The attempts are futile.
Invariably, he loses his temper
and I too am assigned a place in
the lake of fire. I comfort myself
by thinking that the other students
can see that Daniel doesn’t
represent real Christianity, but
at least in one case I’ve
been wrong. One day as I walked
through the courtyard with two of
my classmates, Daniel’s hateful
voice rang in the air and my friends
shook their heads in disgust. Not
wanting them to confuse Daniel’s
message with true Christianity,
I remarked, “Can you believe
that guy claims to be following
Jesus? I can’t imagine Jesus
screaming that he hated everyone.”
I expected them to readily agree.
Instead they only stared at me blankly.
Then one of them launched into a
diatribe about how she couldn’t
stand those “self-righteous
Christians.”
I have come to the
conclusion that many of my fellow
students are rejecting the wrong
Christ. They simply don’t
know who Jesus is. They have never
read the Bible for themselves. And
this biblical ignorance is not confined
to students. Upon learning that
I planned to attend seminary after
graduation, my English professor
was shocked. “You want to
study the Bible? I have to admit
I’ve never really read it.”
That’s too bad,
I thought, because anyone who reads
through the gospels with even the
slightest understanding is unlikely
to be turned off by Jesus. They
may balk at His elevated moral code
or scoff at His miracles but few
can remained unmoved by the humble
servant who befriended sinners and
loved the lowly. It’s also
too bad that as Christians we have
sidelined the potent message of
the Gospels and focused on a strange
amalgam of pop culture and religion
that is misinforming unbelievers.
Angry, fanatical street preachers
aren’t the only ones who’ve
created the problem.
I do not disparage
the practice of wearing Christian
clothes and symbols to communicate
the faith, but the recent tidal
wave of Christian paraphernalia
has taken a turn for the worse.
When the mimicry of the secular
world becomes painfully overt, I
cringe at the message being sent.
We have adapted Calvin Klien’s
CK logo to read, “CK, Christ
is King” and emblazoned it
on t-shirts. The popular brand “Tommy
Hilfiger,” becomes “Tommy
Hellfighter.” While I’m
sure the aim of those sporting such
logos is admirable, this punning
only displays a pathetic pandering
to the world. The local Christian
radio station runs an ad that promises
“safe, easy listening with
no offensive lyrics.” Every
time I hear it, I can’t help
but notice the advertisement’s
stark contrast to Jesus’ warning
about the offensiveness of his message
or hear the disciples’ complain,
“This is a hard teaching.
Who can follow it?”
The bumper stick wars
are equally perplexing. Many Christians,
including myself, have fish symbols
on their cars. When some antagonistic
unbeliever had the clever idea of
adding little feet to the fish to
create a Darwin fish, Christians
responded eagerly with an adjustment
of their own: A large “Truth”
fish, swallowing the Darwin fish
now appears on many bumpers. Unfortunately
the message totally contradicts
the teaching of the gospels. Turning
the other cheek goes beyond nonviolence;
it prescribes a posture of humility
and proscribes retaliation. It was
to be consumed that Christ was born
into this world.
Our stale maxims and
done to death condemnation of the
sin de jour are hardly effective.
Jesus’ approach could not
be more different then ours. We
seem hesitant to surrender our clunky
and predictable methods to follow
him, flitting from soul to soul,
whetting spiritual appetites, speaking
the lost language of spiritual longing,
challenging, probing, provoking,
baffling. His methods were as varied
as His audience. To the sinners
He was unreserved and inspiring,
“Whoever drinks of the water
I give will never thirst”
(John 4:14). To the disingenuous
he was enigmatic. “Neither
will I tell you” (Matthew
21:27).
For some reason we
thought we could improve on His
example. We thought we could water
down the message and make it easier
to swallow. But it turns out that
people are choking on our concoction,
especially young people. Here is
what young people think about today’s
Christianity: They think it’s
cheesy, arrogant, simple, mainstream
and they don’t want it. Our
generation has already rejected
that pitch. We have seen the American
Dream spread out before us like
a banquet feast, and in short, we
were full. We don’t want unflinching
confidence. We want vulnerability.
We don’t want cute slogans
and serenity. We want revolution
and dynamism. We want humility.
We want unvarnished truth. Now that
I think about it, we want Jesus.
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