Religion
“Pure
and undefiled religion before God and the Father is
this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble,
and to keep oneself unspotted from the world”
(James 1:27)
The headline over a recent New
York Times article was upsettingly familiar: “258
die in India stampede.” The news item
continued by relating that the victims were mostly
women and children, killed in a stampede at a Hindu
religious festival in western India. About 200,000
people had gathered at a small hilltop temple
devoted to the “goddess” Mandhar Devi and many of
them broke open coconuts as part of a religious
ritual involving the offering of coconut oil. The
steps to the temple became slippery due to the oil,
and as the article related, “At
some stage, one group fell down, and the other group
just ran over them.” At least 258 people,
mostly women and children, were killed and many were
injured. The article continued: “Angry
relatives of the initial stampede victims then set
fire to nearby shops… As the fire spread, gas
cylinders used for cooking inside some shops
exploded… As a result, more people died.” If
this is “religion” – where is the love?
As we read about such
tragedies, it’s very tempting to conclude, “Oh, it’s
because they’re Hindus” or some related group. When
we see that the Indonesian government has told the
Americans delivering aid to their country to “GET
OUT” as soon as possible, we could decide, “Oh, it’s
because they’re Muslims.” In 2002, the British
Broadcasting Company (BBC) reported headlines, like
this one: “Hundreds of
Muslim youths have gone on the rampage in Nigeria’s
capital, Abuja, following Friday prayers… people
armed with sticks, daggers and knives set fire to
vehicles and attacked anyone they suspected of being
Christian.” And many not only feel anger at
such acts, but also feel “comfortable” about
themselves, concluding that we’re “Christians” and
are somehow not like that.
We easily forget that we’re
sinners, too. When I was a young man, it seemed
like the newspapers were full of violent murders in
Ireland. These were people who shared the same
island and each group looked much the same, and yet
they rioted against one another killing many on both
sides. In August of 1969, the Protestants ripped
through the cities of Belfast and Derry, and the
Catholics responded with two days of vicious
rioting. What would you think of “Christians” if
you lived someplace on the other side of the world?
You probably would not want to BE one (a Christian)
at all. That’s how Christians are viewed in many
countries – Many think that to be European or
American is to be Christian. The terms are thought
to be synonymous. And yet, Europe gave up
pretending to be “Christian” a long time ago and the
U.S. has taken great strides down the same road.
Even when Christians aren’t
actually going to war with one another in the name
of “religion” as has often happened in history, we
operate from a position of false pride, that somehow
“our group” is better than “your group.” Many
groups find others annoying and some dislike just
about everybody. One denomination doesn’t like
another and the feeling is frequently reciprocated.
The world looks at us and wonders, “Where is the
love?”
The writings of Philip Yancy
introduced me to Annie Dillard, who won a Pulitzer
Prize before she was 30, and looked hard what is
called “religion.” She originally joined with many
in the academic world, viewing the evangelical
Christian as “a madman
with a white sheet and a gun.” During the
time she taught at a college in Virginia early in
her career, she spent time reading to the blind at
Shenandoah Bible College, where she saw a more
compassionate fundamentalism. Here’s what she wrote
in the “Yale Review”
in 1985:
Seeing a group of students
singing by a fountain, she said of them, “I
know who these singing students are: they are the
Fundamentalists. This campus has a lot of them.
Mornings they sing on the Square; it is their only
perceptible activity. What are they singing?
Whatever it is, I want to join them, for I like to
sing; whatever it is, I want to take my stand with
them, for I am drawn to their very absurdity, their
innocent indifference to what people think. My
colleagues and students here, and my friends
everywhere, dislike and fear Christian
fundamentalists. You may never have met such
people, but you’ve learned what they do: they pile
up money, vote in blocs, and elect right-wing
crazies; they censor books; they carry handguns;
they fight fluoride in the drinking water and
evolution in the schools; probably they would lynch
people if they could get away with it. I’m not sure
my friends are correct. I close my pen and join the
singers on the Square.” She sang with the
fundamentalists all during the Spring of that year.
Decades ago, I fell in with a
group of Roman Catholics, in Mesa, Arizona, and was
surprised by them. They essentially “adopted” me at
a time when I was very lonely for fellowship. They
did not try to convert me, but instead just accepted
me, and the Lord nurtured me through them. I was
with them for two years. They called me “the
Protestant” and oddly enough, asked me to be
one of their leaders. The leadership “core” group
met on Saturday mornings and included two deacons
from the local parish. Catholic “deacons” it turned
out, are not like most Protestant deacons who are
essentially church helpers, but instead they are
ordained clergy. They were also filled with His
love.
I was watchful of them, just as
they were watching me. Especially, I looked for
signs that, as many evangelicals believe, they
looked to Mary, or the saints, or to the church, or
their good works for salvation, but found none of
that. They were saved by the blood of the Lamb of
God, Jesus Christ, and they knew it, just like you
and me.
A small group of them came to
me, and one of them said, “We
didn’t know that Protestants could be like you.”
I still don’t know fully what they meant, but I know
that they were God’s children who loved Him very
much. They were saved by faith in His Son and were
filled with His Holy Spirit. They accepted me as I
was, and I accepted them. They gave love,
compassion and a listening ear, the way we should.
Do we have to accept the teachings of other
religions? – No. But we are to love those who are
not precisely like we are.
Sometimes we think we have to
“save” others, forgetting that we don’t save
anybody, including ourselves. We are not the Lord
and we did not die for our sins. He did. He calls
us to serve, often in “little” ways, by visiting “orphans
and widows in their trouble.” And to love
Him, to love others is to “keep
oneself unspotted from the world” (James
1:27).
Let’s pray: Father, teach me to
love. That’s what you want me to do (John 13:34-35)
and I need You. I give you my sins of pride and
rejecting others who are not just like I am. Fill
me with Your Spirit and with Your love. In Jesus
Name. Amen.
