On a Compassionate Church

The Hunger Games fascinates me.  The notion that society would get to the point of using children in a blood sport as both entertainment and a method of control is conceivable.  The Roman Empire got to that point with the colosseum and their dreadfully bloody circuses.  It was a way to make the people forget the boot on their neck.  It was a way to make the emperor look benevolent and like someone who would connect with the people.  We, as a society, are in that ballpark now.  Fortunately, we seem to have displaced our violent impulses into television, music, movies and video games.  I am often pleased to see that most Americans don’t have generally negative or violent tendencies toward one another.  We generally don’t want to hurt each other.

 

I do worry, however, that we are living in somewhat of a real life “Hunger Games.”  We don’t sacrifice our children or put them in a stadium, of course, but we do seem to have somewhat of a mentality like those thrust into the killing fields of the “Hunger Games.”  When the competitors look each other in the eye while they stand on their pedestals surrounding a cornucopia of supplies and weapons, they begin a terrible odyssey into darkness and isolation.  Anyone familiar with The Hunger Games knows the whole point of the exercise is to find the last person standing.  It is kill or be killed.  It is every person for themselves.  It does not pay to help others or team up because you will eventually be forced to choose between yourself or your teammate.  You choose to either die or forever live with the guilt of killing someone to save yourself.  It is not a good way to live.

 

We seem to have fallen in to that mentality in the United States.  All of a sudden, it is every person for themselves.  I hear it not only in political discourse but in religious conversation and from the mouths of children.  I remember, as a part of a denomination, it was every church for themselves.  We seem to be asking again, as Cain did, whether or not we are our brother’s keeper.  We keep forgetting, however, God’s answer to that was… “Yeah, you are…here’s a really ugly mole.”  I see, from time to time, glimmers of hope and selflessness.  More often, I see resentment and hate. 

 

We often don’t recognize the need in each other’s lives.  The grass really does always seem greener on the other   We don’t understand each other.  We often don’t try to understand each other.  This lack of understanding chokes our compassion and causes it to whither away.  We stop caring about each other.  We start competing with each other.  Then, the rules change.

 

Have we lost our compassion?

 

Compassion is an interesting thing.  So often, it is mistaken for weakness.  We don’t like to look weak.  We tend to gravitate toward things that make us feel strong and in control.  Revenge is one of those things.  If we can repay pain for pain, loss for loss or embarrassment for embarrassment, we will.  Another easy way to feel powerful is to make someone else feel powerless.  We leverage emotions, violence, money and other things to take someone else’s power away to make ourselves feel strong.  The church often uses guilt to appear strong.  Filling someone with guilt makes them vulnerable.  Vulnerable people look for strength in others.  This gives the guilt creator power.  

 

I see the church’s fear of compassion in the news all the time.  Whether it is the issue of abortion or the zeitgeist of gay marriage, we lack compassion.  The church is not known for its compassionate nature anymore.  Politicians fear us.  Corporations tiptoe around us.  We like that.  It makes us feel powerful.  This attitude dates back to the Roman empire when Constantine figured out how powerful the person of Christ was. He saw the power in the symbol of the Cross.  Christianity became the state religion and the new-found power of the Pope was unprecedented.  Christians went from being an underground band of devout followers to members of the most powerful group on Earth.  Whoever controls Rome, controls the world.

 

That is when our religion started to lose its compassion.  Then, the Protestant revolution started and men like Martin Luther, John Wesley and John Calvin reclaimed the humility of Christianity as they led small bands of followers out of the oppression of the bloated Catholic and Anglican churches.  The church in the United States started out of people escaping oppression.  While Christianity was dominant in the beginning stages of our nation, we still had the mentality of the small, subversive group.

 

As time marched on, we achieved power and prominence.  Christianity steadily escalated back to power in the country culminating in the addition of “under God” to the pledge in 1954 and the replacement of “e pluribus unum” (out of many; one) with “In God we Trust” as the national motto in 1956.  It seems strange that these changes sprung not as a testimony to the faith of a nation but as a response to secular communism during the era of McCarthyism.  Don’t get me wrong, I love any time God is acknowledged by our leaders.  This just reminds me of what Constantine did in invoking the name of Christ to gain political power.

 

It is no coincidence that around the time Christianity achieved its highest power in the United States, we also started to develop a reputation for a lack of compassion and understanding.  Small denominations sprung up like the Church of the Nazarene, Pentecostals, and United Methodists that were focused on social justice and compassion.  Inevitably, as time marched on, even these institutions gained power, spread globally and lost their compassion.  Christianity has become about power and individualism rather than the greater good.  

 

So, now it is time for smaller groups to start subverting the norm again.  It is time for us to remember the real directive Christ gave us.  Love one another.  It is time we remember what I consider to be Christ’s most convicting and telling parable. 

 

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne.  All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

“Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.” 

Matt. 25: 31-46

The measure of righteousness here is not whether you prayed at school or had an abortion.  It is not whether you were a Republican or a Democrat.  It is not whether you had all the right bumper stickers and T-shirts.  It is not whether or not you listened to K-Love or WayFM.  It is not about your Facebook posts or Twitter feed.  It is not about whether you capitalize pronouns relating to God or are able to recite Bible verses.

What Christ tells us here is that his benchmark for righteousness is whether we cared about the people around us.  Did we live lives of compassion?  Did we take care of people when they needed us?  

Did we love or did we not?