Kill Your Gods

Kill your gods.

That’s what the graffiti on the wall of the industrial warehouse on the way to the mall said: “Kill your gods.”

It’s painted over now, but the message stuck – and seems even more relevant now.  ”Kill your gods” after all, could not be a more fitting Easter message.

The religiously motivated, politically authorized – and of course crowd pleasing – public execution of a presumed messiah on charges of blasphemy pleased everyone for a variety of reasons.  Virtually everyone was glad to be rid of this Jesus.

Far from the sanitized Jesus of most Sunday school lessons, the Jesus of the New Testament was born in scandal, lived as a child as a displaced fugitive in Egypt and died a petty criminals’ death.

Most Christians believe – emphatically – that the name “Jesus” was unique to this one man. It wasn’t. There are several “Jesuses” in the  New Testament (See Acts 13:6). One, Jesus Barabbas, even played a key role in the trial and execution of Jesus the Christ (Matthew 27:16-17).

We tend to forget that this Jesus had questionable paternity (every child, especially a son, was called the son of the father, he was called, derisively in that culture, the “son of Mary”) came from a part of Israel with the lowest expectations (Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” John 1:46) and his family, thought he had lost his mind (Matthew 3:21).  And of course, in his ultimate time of need, was betrayed and abandoned by all of his friends.

I have to admit that I love – and identify with – this Jesus who came from a hick town, was rejected and misunderstood by his family and ultimately condemned by members of his own religion.  At the time of his most extreme need, no one stood up for him, they all ran, jeered or “washed their hands” (Matthew 27:24) of him.

I always marvel when this Jesus has been appropriated as a mascot – or icon – of religious institutions or political empires or even crowds of chanting, racist and hateful citizens eager for the blood of someone – anyone – they disagree with.  We like to forget that this was the exact coalition that engineered and ensured the death of this Jesus.  We also like to forget not only who welcomed Jesus, but whom he welcomed into his kingdom.  Jesus spent most of his time among the “not good enough” of his time and culture – the lost, the needy and the not respectable.  The first specifically Christian missionary, for example, was the mixed-race, much hated Samaritan woman in John chapter 4 who was a scandalous woman because of her sinful lifestyle, hated because of her race, held back (from education, for example) because of her gender, rejected by five husbands and ostracized by her own people – yet Jesus, this Jesus, chose her as his first emissary.

And who does Jesus commend for having “the greatest faith in all of Israel?”  A commander of the despised Roman occupying force that controlled Israel with a brutal hand (Matthew 8:5-10).  This was the Jesus, who by the criteria of every aspect of society, had to go. This unorthodox Jesus, who ate with sinners (Luke 15:2), urged his followers to “turn the other cheek,”  held no office, left no written words, wandered across the countryside and never got married, is still a scandal to the respectable.  We would still kill this Jesus – but we love the Jesus who agrees with our politics, and loves our nation above all others.  We love the Jesus we have made in our own image, this god of “people like us.”  This “god” of complacency and self-justification is the god of the New Testament that kills the living, breathing New Testament Jesus. This is the god that must die – so that the God who looks – and calls us to see and live – beyond our own selves can live within us.  Jesus himself was fully aware that the Bible, if nothing else, is the lingering, relentless legacy of “godly” people murdering the prophets (Matthew 23:34, Luke 11:47-49).  “Kill your gods” indeed.  Those who, in Biblical times executed the man Jesus unleashed a force far beyond their own imagining.

C.S. Lewis, in his Narnia Chronicles, used the term “Deep Magic” to describe repercussions that transcend history and culture. The crucifixion of Jesus is surely  the act of “Deepest Magic” of Earth’s history.  For details on this, Thomas Cahill’s book Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The world before and after Jesus fleshes out some of the historical, philosophical and political shifts that were – and continue to be – visible across our world – whether one is a “follower” of Jesus or not. The empty tomb has become the prevailing symbol of Easter; but something we can’t quite pin down lives on.

This is the ultimate “Good News” – our spiritual refuge is not in our comforts or our political self-congratulations – and it is more, infinitely more.

Some theologians observe that the “Good News” of God is in stark contrast to the “bad news” of human nature.  In other words, it is essential to the Easter story that we humans, all of us, religious or secular, rich or poor, are presented as turning our hands – and hearts – against God’s chosen.

And the more we protest – like Peter – the more we confirm our reliance on our self-justification and our ultimate betrayal.

Virtually every Christian I know proclaims that they, unlike all the others, would stay true and would never betray or abandon Christ.  But they miss the core of the Passion story – the ultimate – and total – collision between God and all – all – of humanity, then and now.

Not only was it crucial that God’s chosen would die – it was also essential that we all, skeptics, believers, friends and  disciples, were – and would be – accomplices in his death.

To believe otherwise is to embrace and embody ignorance both of God’s glory and humanity’s central value – self-justification.  It is precisely this self-justification and self-righteousness that must be broken.  And, in God’s economy, only the cross can break it.

Sometimes my Christian friends ask me which side I’m on – the world or the Church.  They fail to realize that the Gospel accounts scream out, loud and clear, that the world and the church are on the same side.

To me, there is only one side, the side of Jesus.  And yes, I have betrayed him, and will again.  And yes, he will restore and redeem me – and you – if we will let him.

Kill your gods – and if one survives, you have found something worth believing in.