One evening a few weeks ago, I was at work, working the way a person works when at work. I sat at my desk, taking calls from customers, helping people with their cell phones, checking the clock more often than is healthy, and waiting for the magical closing bell to sound. My last call of the night was a fun one, and I could tell it would be with the first words out of the customer’s mouth.
“Thank you for taking my call, Brother Tyler,” he said. “Jesus loves you.”
Now, to put this in perspective. Most of the people who call tech support are pretty professional. (“Yeah, I had to call tech support. Yeah, my phone’s not working and I’m frustrated about that. But you seem willing to help, so I’ll cooperate with you. Let’s get this fixed.”) A minority of my callers are irate. (“Fix my phone right now or I’ll kill your whole family, starting with you. I might kill you all anyway, just for how much trouble you people put me through.”) But never ever, in my long five years of call center experience, has a caller told me that Jesus loves me. It was a bit disorienting.
I soon learned that my caller was an evangelical reverend pastor (whatever that means). It wasn’t hard to see how seriously the man took his work. Not only did he call me “Brother Tyler” through the whole call, but he was religious about the most mundane of things. I spent much of the call giving him instructions on how to use the camera and video functions of his phone. The conversation went something like this:
Me: “Okay, now let’s flip open the phone so you can see the inside screen.”
Pastor: “You got it, Brother Tyler. I flip open the phone, in the name of Jesus.”
Me: “Now press the OK button, and pull up the main menu.”
Pastor: “I press the OK button, in the name of Jesus.”
Me: “Good. Now you’ve got the main menu up? Does it talk about your contacts list?”
Pastor: “Amen, Brother. I have a question, in the name of Jesus. How do I see the pictures I’ve already taken, in the name of Jesus?”
Me (trying my hardest not to laugh): “Press your left arrow button twice, and it’ll pull up your media gallery.”
Pastor (entirely serious): “I got it, in the name of Jesus! The good lord Jesus blessed you with smarts, Brother Tyler. Amen!”
I sincerely wish I were exaggerating, but I’m not. As the call progressed, this pastor attributed everything to Jesus. He was able to pay his bill on time, because of Jesus. He got such a helpful rep on the phone, because of Jesus. He was learning so much today about his cell, because of Jesus. It got harder and harder not to laugh in his ear. He reminded me too much of that one 4chan meme, about how Michael J. Fox (blah blah blah trembling joke), because of Parkinson’s.
Now, I’m also Christian myself, but I didn’t dare bring it up during this call. I was terrified he’d spend an hour pontificating about how Jeeeeeeesus did ever paaayyy for our siiiiinnnns! And dang it, I didn’t want to spend an hour getting preached at. It was a waste of the company’s time, and I wanted to go home.
Since that one call, I’ve given a lot of thought to how this kind of man gives credit for every little thing to Jesus. What must this man think during his morning routine? I’m getting out of bed now, in the name of Jesus. I’m scratching my gut and picking lint out of my navel, in the name of Jesus. I’m heading into the bathroom, in the name of Jesus. I’m flossing plaque out from between my teeth, in the name of Jesus. I’m taking a shit, in the name of Jesus. Would Jesus want those things done in His name? I wonder.
Now, the Christians say that man’s redemption and happiness exist in giving one’s self up to Christ. They believe that Christ is the one Perfect Man, and since he took the Atonement upon Himself, we can find our true joy and fulfillment only by living in Him. What exactly it means to live “in” Christ is a matter of debate (and misunderstanding). This evangelical reverend pastor (or ERP for short), taught me something important. Not that I would go to his extremes, but he gave me the clue into unraveling the meaning of “living in Christ.”
Before I go any further, let me say that I’m not here to preach. I don’t mean to put forth an ideology or condemn you for your sins. (God knows, I’m enough of an asshole by myself. I don’t have the grounds to tell anyone else what to do.) The point of this article is a philosophical idea, and one that will be useful only to those who are already Christian. Otherwise, you had best stop reading and go do something else.
On my way home from work, the night I had spoken to the ERP, I felt a little guilty. I claim to be a Christian, and every Christian’s highest goal is to abandon the “natural self” in favor of the “self” that God gives us. Part of me thought that the ERP had accomplished this more thoroughly than I ever would. (And for all I know, he has.) But I could never bring myself to turn on my computer, in the name of Jesus. It would shock and appall Christian fundamentalists if I played my favorite recent video game, Fallout 3, in the name of Jesus. I’d feel just a little sacrilegious if I looked at not-safe-for-work pictures online, in the name of Jesus. (But come on! That picture of Marisa in the skimpy two-piece was just too cute.) And I might be able to participate in the Touhou fan community, in the name of Jesus, so long as I don’t yell it out loud too much.
Then again, to the majority of the Christian populous, appending the words “in the name of Jesus” to the end of all your sentences would quickly get annoying. Some might even find it blasphemous. But of course, no Christian would ever say he wants to live his life not in the name of Jesus. So where does actual common sense kick in? We don’t want to live Godless lives, because we find peace and comfort in Christ. But we feel awkward going to the opposite extreme, wiping our asses in the name of Jesus. Is there a happy middle ground? Can we be good Christians without being obnoxious about it?
The answer is yes, but I have to go on a tangent. We need to debunk the rabid Christian fundamentalist first.
Do you remember, back when the Harry Potter novels were at their height of popularity? The Christian fundamentalists came out of the woodwork, declaring the stories satanic and evil. (I mean, little kids using magic, for God’s sake! They must be witches! They must be possessed by demons! Burn them! Drown them! Kill the author! Excommunicate her!) To any reasonable person, these complaints are ridiculous. I can only imagine what mouth-foaming rage the fundies feel at Twilight and its sequels. A teenage girl falling in love with a vampire? How horrible! I must go pray and kiss the twenty ton life-size golden crucifix on my bedroom wall! And what if the fundies saw me playing Fallout 3? No doubt they’d flick holy water on my head and scream, “THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!” over and over until they were satisfied the devil had gone from me.
There’s a simple fact that proves Christian fundamentalism to be as stupid as it seems to be. And the ironic kicker is, this fact is one the fundies themselves believe in. Here’s the fact:
Two thousand years ago, Christ took mortal form.
Here you’re thinking, yeah? So what? But let’s put the fact into context. Christians believe that the “afterlife” (and in some denominations, the “before-life” as well) is a perfect existence. Free of dirtiness. Free of sin. Full of happiness and energy and love. Christians also believe that God’s begotten Son left this flawless realm, of his own free will, to live in our podunk dimension for a decade or three.
So what’s the significance of this? Christ left perfection and descended into imperfection, and for our benefit. This leads me to say something that will make me very unpopular with some Christians. While Christ was mortal, while he was on Earth, he was not perfect.
Oh my. Did I say something taboo?
Go read the New Testament. The accounts of Christ’s life show a man (albeit one with exceptionally good intelligence) who was just that, a man. He got angry at people. He yelled at the pharisees and the hypocrites. He bucked social norms by tossing over the merchant tables in the synagogue. He preached things so unpopular that it got him crucified. Worst of all, in the Garden of Gethsemane, he asked his Father to let him off the hook. How terrible is that? Sorry God, this whole “die for the sins of the world” gig hurts too much. Can I just come home?
Historians will argue the accuracy of the above paragraph’s events, but that’s beside the point for now. The point here is that Christians, even the fundamentalists, believe in their Bible. The Bible clearly portrays the mortal Christ as a man susceptible to temptation, and a man who gave in more than once. But I’m not trying to say that Christianity is flawed because its Savior was imperfect as a mortal. Not at all. I’m saying the exact opposite. Christianity works because Jesus was allowed to screw up while he lived on earth.
Think about it. How could my God save me if He’s too proud to lower Himself to my level? If I’m drowning in the ocean, how can the lifeguard rescue me if he’s afraid to get wet? For Christ’s Incarnation to mean anything, He had to become one of us. He had to hurt, to be afraid, to get angry, to lash out at people. His descent into imperfection is the whole thing that makes Christianity work. He was a man for a few years, but is God for eternity, and after having descended into the muck and slime of this life, was thus able to ascend into the spotless perfection of the spiritual life. And, since He did it, He can help us do it too.
Christian fundies, I have some bad news for you. God knows how messy life on earth is. He knows how people lie and kill and cheat and steal. He knows the ugly rottenness of rape and abuse and gluttony. And (this part you’re really going to hate hearing), God forgives us for it.
God is a good deal smarter than us, so you can bet basic facts don’t get past Him. He realizes the evils of the mortal world. To send weaklings like we men to mortality and to expect us to return to Him unblemished is totally unrealistic, and He knows this. He also knows how to prioritize. While His ultimate goal is eternal perfection and happiness for all men, He’s not above using evil forces to attain this end. He put us in this hardscrabble life in hopes that pain would make us into better people. When I play Fallout 3, it at first seems a very bad thing to enjoy a game were I can kill people and enslave children. Indeed, it won’t be the right thing for me to play bloodbath video games forever. But for now, it’s better than self-destructing because I have no way to unwind from the stress of work.
If you start paying attention to the dynamics of life, it’s easy to see how many “shades of gray” moral choices we make every day. If my girlfriend is gaining weight, should I say something or keep my mouth shut? Is it better to express a desire to have a lover who’s healthy and beautiful, or do I want to avoid her getting angry at me? And if I’m afraid of my girlfriend yelling at me, doesn’t that make me a coward? But if I mention how fat she’s getting, doesn’t that make me shallow (for wanting a skinny girlfriend)? Or here’s another example. When I’m on the phones at work, is it better to go above and beyond to serve my customers, or better to get each customer off the phone as soon as possible? One way makes me look good in my call quality, and the other makes my numbers look good. One way is a direct benefit to my customers, the other is a direct benefit to my company. Which should I prioritize? Being a good representative, or a good employee? But doesn’t it also benefit my customers to get each person off the phone ASAP, so I can quickly help the next person? And doesn’t it also benefit my company to spend all kinds of time ensuring good customer loyalty?
And on and on and on. There are two sides to every coin. Every blessing brings a challenge, and every challenge can be a blessing. The ERP who spends every breath praising Jesus can alienate people from Christianity just by saying the name an irritating number of times. The fundamentalists, who aggressively persue (what they believe to be) Christian ethics actually create enemies of Christianity because, hey, I don’t want to worship a God who won’t let me play Fallout 3 or read my favorite book.
But there is a happy middle ground. You don’t have to apostatize completely, and you don’t have to move your bowels in the name of Jesus. Instead of the extremes, just let Jesus be your friend. Let Him guide you, and ask Him for help when you’re lost or confused or hurting. (Which, you’ll find, will be a lot of the time when Christ isn’t guiding you already.) Thank God for the things in your life. The bed you sleep in, the computer you’re reading this article on, the food you eat, and your family and friends. In return for the gratitude, God will give you as much as you’re capable of receiving. There will be hard times, and God will throw a lot of nasty situations at you. But He also gives you the strength to overcome them, if you ask Him for it.
Let me end with a bit of speculation. The ERP reminded me how every God-loving person worships in his or her own way. Think of the monks of old Europe who took vows of silence and practiced their faith in quiet monasteries. Then think of the southern United States, where chapels full of baptists hoot and holler and shout and sing praises to their Lord Jeeeeeesus! There’s countless variations between them, and not a single one is wrong. I expect that God has use for the soft-spoken priest, and makes equal good out of the Bible-thumping, hymn-crooning pastor. These, of course, are the images that come to mind of the mortal world’s religious folk. But what of the afterlife? How would these same personalities appear in spiritual form?
I imagine that those who make joyful noises unto the Lord will still do so. And off to the side, admiring the angelic host sing, will be the quieter children of God. I fully expect that, when I die, I’ll be part of the second group. I’ll listen to the singing, and I’ll enjoy it, but I won’t have the voice to join in. I’ll contribute to God in my own way. (I might tell stories, for instance.) There’s nothing wrong with this at all. You’d hope God would make us all different, all able to worship in our own ways. That difference, we spiritual creatures all being good but infinitely varied, will provide the very spice of life that makes eternity worth living.
So, my good ERP, I wish you well. Keep calling customer service reps, and do it in the name of Jesus. And keep in mind, even though we brothers don’t end our sentences the same way, we too are living in the name of Jesus. God keep you. Amen.