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The religious right scares me. The liberal left frightens me. And Facebook terrifies me. O, and by the way, the world is coming to an end!
I’ve come across two very interesting and insightful essays this week on the demise of American Christianity. The first is Michael Spencer’s “The coming evangelical collapse” published in the Christian Science Monitor, and the second is Jon Meacham’s “The End of Christian America” published in Newsweek. Meacham discusses the decline of Christianity in America in general while Spencer discusses what he believes is the soon and inevitable demise of Evangelicalism in particular. In this post I’d like to provide a brief overview of both articles (supplemented by some information from Christine Wicker’s The Fall of the Evangelical Nation: The Surprising Crisis Inside the Church (HarperCollins, 2008), and then offer my own assessment of this demise.
The Demise of Christianity
There are many indications that Christianity in America is in rather rapid decline. For example, the percentage of self-identifying Christians has fallen 10 points over the last decade (down to 76 percent). According to a recent Newsweek Poll, the percentage of people who think that America is “a Christian Nation” has dropped 7 percent in the last year (down to 62 percent). And the percent of those who say that religion “can answer all or most of today’s problems” is at a historic low – down to 48 percent (it never dropped below 58 percent until the last few years).
There are indications that conservative Christianity (Evangelicalism) is being hit particularly hard by this downward turn. (See Christine Wicker’s The Fall of the Evangelical Nation for superb research supporting this claim). While some megachurches continue to grow, the majority of smaller evangelical churches are shrinking (in part because many of their members are migrating to the “full service oriented” model of the megachurches). Yet, there is an over-all net loss of church attenders each year, though this is somewhat concealed by the fact that most conservative churches are reticent to take members off their membership rolls as well as by the tendency of evangelical churches and organizations [especially Southern Baptists, according to Wicker] to grossly exaggerate their numbers (see The Fall of the Evangelical Nation for a full exposé on this trend).
Also significant is the fact that the average age of attendees in conservative churches is rising and there are many indications that the largely personality driven mega-church phenomenon was a “baby-boomer” trend that will likely die with this generation. In light of these and other indications, Spencer goes so far as to predict that ”[w]ithin two generations, evangelicalism will be a house deserted of half its occupants.” “The end of evangelicalism as we know it,” he argues, “ is close.” More generally, Meacham argues that America is entering into a “post-Christian” epoch.
The Cause of the Decline
What has brought about this decline? The answer to this question is, of course, very complex, but from these essays two factors stand out.
First, as Spencer notes, American evangelical churches have been, to a large degree, gutted by good old fashion American pragmatism. We’ve become preoccupied with being “relevant” and “efficient” at the expense of holding fast to the theological depth of our biblically based traditions. Megachurches in particular are guilty of this – which in part explains why they become megachurches, for relevance and efficiency sell well to baby boomers. (To younger folks, not so much.) Spencer refers to this, quite appropriately, as the “megachurch vacuity.”
Spencer wonders whether “the coming collapse” of Evangelicalism will “get Evangelicals past the pragmatism and shallowness that has brought about the loss of substance and power?” He’s not very optimistic, however. While he’s quite sure Evangelicalism will continue to decline, he also somewhat caustically anticipates that “[t]he purveyors of the evangelical circus will be in fine form, selling their wares as the promised solution to every church’s problems. I expect the landscape of megachurch vacuity to be around for a very long time.”
A second important factor, which both Spencer and Meacham stress, is that Evangelicals “have identified their movement with the culture war and with political conservatism.” Spencer notes that “[w]e fell for the trap of believing in a cause more than a faith.” Even some of the staunchest guards of conservative Evangelicalism are beginning to see this.
For example, Alert Mohler Jr., president of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, concedes that “[t]he worst fault of evangelicals in terms of politics over the last 30 years has been an incredible naiveté about politics and politicians and parties.” Manifesting typical Constantinian triumphalism, many conservative American Christians naively thought we could transform American society in a “Christian” direction by acquiring political power to enforce our (self-proclaimed) superior views on selected topics (especially abortion, gay marriage, creationism in schools and stem cell research) on the broader culture. It has not gone well, to say the least.
After 40 years of intense political involvement, Evangelicals have little positive to show for their efforts. To the contrary, we’ve arguably only succeeded in getting multitudes of non-Christians [or simply non-Evangelicals] to distain us and the “Good News” message we’re supposed to be bringing. (A great book on the [mostly negative] non-Christian perceptions of Evangelicals in America is UnChristian by David Kinnamen and Gabe Lyons). Now that the political parties and positions Evangelicals largely identified with have fallen on hard times, Evangelicals have, to a significant extent, fallen with them.
Is The Demise of the Christian Religion a Bad Thing?
For those who are heavily invested in the Christian religion, at least as it’s usually been understood in America, the news that America is entering into a “post-Christian” epoch is understandably alarming. As Meacham makes apparent in his article, people like Albert Mohler find the indisputable evidence of Christianity’s demise in America deeply disturbing. Mohler vows to fight this demise tooth and nail, predicting that a “new generation of young pastors” is about to rise up “to push back against hell in bold and visionary ministry.” “Expect to see the sparks fly,” he adds.
Personally, I strongly suspect that all such “spark flying” efforts on the part the righteous to protect us sinners from ourselves will only speed Christianity’s demise.
Others of us interpret the demise of Christianity and America’s descent into a “post-Christian” epoch quite differently. Indeed, I and many others see this as good news! Yes, the loss of a Judeo-Christian civic religion may bring about a greater degree of moral and religious relativism and intensify American’s moral decadence. This is admittedly unnerving. But here are six reasons why I do not think Kingdom people should weep over the demise of American Christianity.
1. America has never been, and will never be, a “Christian” nation in any significant sense. Among other things, America, like every other fallen, demonically-oppressed nation (see Lk. 4:5-7; 2 Cor. 4:4; I Jn. 5:19; Rev. 13), is incapable of loving its enemies, doing good to those who mistreat it or blessing those who persecute it (Lk. 6:27-35). By applying the term “Christian” to America, we’ve massively watered down its meaning — which undoubedly helps explain why the vast majority of American Christians assume being “Christian” is perfectly compatible with hating and killing your national enemies if and when your earthly Commander and Chief asks you to. The sooner the label “Christian” gets divorced form this country, the better. It provides hope that someday the word “Christian” might actually mean “Christ-like” once again.
2. Related to this, there’s a good bit of research demonstrating that the majority of American’s identify themselves as “Christian” when asked by a pollster, but when asked what this label actually means in terms of core values and lifestyle choices, it becomes apparent that for the majority of them the meaning of “Christian” is basically “American.” I submit that the main problem Kingdom people confront in spreading the Kingdom in America is that a majority of people assume they are already in the Kingdom — they are “Christian” — simply by virtue of being American or because they prayed a certain prayer or go to Church once a year, or whatever. If fewer people are identifying themselves as “Christian,” this is good, for it means there’s one less major illusion that Kingdom people have to confront and work through as they invite these folks into the Kingdom.
3. If Evangelicals lose all their political clout, we may be less tempted to lust after political power, which means we may have one less distraction from actually doing what God called us to do — namely, manifesting God’s reign by how we humbly live, love and serve.
4. As my friend Alan Hirsch demonstrates in his great book, The Forgotten Ways, the Kingdom has always thrived — and really, has only thrived — when it was on the margins of society. The Kingdom is, by its very nature, a “contrast society.” If Christians lose all their power and position in society and become marginalized, this can’t help but be good for the Kingdom. If Christians become persecuted, it likely will be even better. We’d be turning back the clock from the disaster of Constantinian triumphalist Christianity in the direction of Apostolic, servant Christianity.
5. The “Christian” element of American culture was never deeper than the thin veneer of a shared civic religion. A major problem Kingdom people have faced on the mission field of America is that the majority of people mistook the civic religion for the real thing. So it is that so many think that being “Christian” is focused on preserving the civic religion (e.g. fighting for prayer before sports events, keeping the ten commandments on government buildings, holding onto a “Christian” definition of marriage within our government, etc.). Not only this, but this veneer of Christianity causes Jesus followers not to notice the many ways foundational assumptions that permeate American culture are diametrically opposed to the values of the Kingdom. If the civic religion of Christianity were to die, Kingdom people would be less tempted to associate Christianity with symbolic civic functions and would become more aware of how the Kingdom sharply contrasts with foundational aspects of American culture.
6. Finally, and closely related to this, if Jesus followers lose all their position and power and become a minority (or better, revealed to have always been a minority) in American culture, this will expose the idol of American individualism we have bought into for far too long and perhaps help us realize that we need to cling to each other and that the Kingdom is inherently communal. We are called to manifest God’s uniquely beautiful love and bear witness to the reality of Jesus Christ by how we share our lives and serve one another (e.g. Jn. 17:20-26; Acts 2: 42-47. 4: 42-45). But its very difficult for many of us to embrace radical Kingdom community when we can get along very well (by American standards of “well”) without it. The demise of Constantinian American Christianity would serve us well by stripping us of the privilege of individualistic living.
Other possible positive outcomes of the demise of American Christianity could be listed, but this must suffice for now. I hope it is enough to show that, from a Kingdom perspective, the demise of American Christianity is not something we should weep over. To the contrary, its actually good news. Yes, it will likely bring about cultural disarray. But, as has often been noted, the Kingdom thrives best when the broader cultural is falling apart. The God-given mandate to Kingdom people is not to keep the broader culture from falling apart, but to offer all who are hungry a radically different, far more beautiful, way of doing life. And often people will not take this offer seriously until everything else is crumbling around them.
Let the civic religion die. And if the culture crumbles, it crumbles. Our task is to live in a way that gives people hope.
Think about it,
Greg
Locational privacy (also known as "location privacy") is the ability of an individual to move in public space with the expectation that under normal circumstances their location will not be systematically and secretly recorded for later use.
"Speeches made to the people are essential to the arousing of enthusiasm for a war."
"Fascism conceives of the State as an absolute, in comparison with which all individuals or groups are relative, only to be conceived in their relation to the State. "


GRAND ERRATUM. THE NON-EXISTENCE OF NAPOLEON PROVED.
BY JEAN-BAPTISTE
Napoleon Bonaparte, of whom so much has been said and written, never even existed. He is nothing more than an allegorical personage. He is the personification of the sun; and we can prove our assertion by showing how everything related of Napoleon the Great has been borrowed from the great luminary. Let us see briefly what we are told of this remarkable man.
Ye are told:
That he was called Napoleon Bonaparte:
That he was born in an island in the Mediterranean sea;
That his mother's name was Letitia;
That he had three sisters and four brothers, three of whom
were kings;
That he had two wives, one of whom bore him a son;
That he put an end to a great revolution;
That he had under him sixteen marshals of the empire, twelve of whom were in active service;
That he prevailed in the South, and was defeated in the North;
To conclude, that after a reign of twelve years, begun upon his arrival from the East, he departed, and disappeared in the Western seas.
It remains for us to ascertain whether these various details are borrowed from the sun, and we hope that every reader of this disquisition will rise convinced that this is the case.
i. In the first place, every one knows that the sun is called Apollo by the poets. Now, the difference between Apollo and Napoleon is not a great one, and it will appear very much less still if we go back to the meaning and origin of these names. It is unquestionable that the word Apollo means Exterminator; and it seems that this name was given by the Greeks to the sun on account of the injury it did them before Troy, where a part of their army perished from the excessive heat, and from the pestilence that followed at the time of the outrage perpetrated by Agamemnon on Chryses, priest of the sun, as we read at the beginning of the "Iliad" of Homer. The brilliant imagination of the Greek poets transformed the rays of the luminary into flaming arrows, hurled on all sides by the angry god, who would soon have exterminated everything if his wrath had not been appeased by the release of Chrysei's, daughter of Chryses, the sacrificial priest.
This, then, is probably the reason why the sun was called Apollo. But whatever the cause or circumstance which occasioned the giving of such a name to this luminary, it is certain that the name means Exterminator.
Now, Apollo is the same word as Apoleon. They are derived from Apollyo, or Apoleo, two Greek verbs which are really the same, and which mean "destroy," “kill," "exterminate."
Thus, if the fictitious hero of our century were called Apoleon, he would have the same name as the sun, and would besides fulfil the meaning of the name; for he is pictured to us as the greatest exterminator of men who ever existed. But this personage is called Napoleon, and thus his name contains an initial letter which we do not find in the name of the sun. Yes, there is an
extra letter, an extra syllable even; for, according to the inscriptions cut in every part of the capital (Paris), the real name of this supposed hero was Neapoleon, or Neapolion. This is more particularly to be seen on the column of the Place Vendome.
Now, this extra syllable makes no difference whatever. The svllable, no doubt, like the rest of the name, is Greek; and in Greek ne, or nai, is one of the strongest affirmations, equivalent to our veritably, or yea. Whence it follows that Napoleon means Veritable Exterminator, Veritable Apollo; it
means, in truth, the sun.
But what is to be said of his other name? What connection can there be between the word Bonaparte and the star of the day? At first it is not at all evident, but this at least can be understood: that as bona parte means "good part," it has no doubt to do with something consisting of two parts, a good and a bad, with something which in addition is connected with the sun, Napoleon.
Now, nothing is more directly connected with the sun than the results of his diurnal revolution, and these results are day and night, light and darkness; the light produced by his presence, and that darkness which prevails during his absence. This is an allegory borrowed from the Persians. They have the reign of Ormuzd and Ahriman, of light and darkness, of good and bad spirits. And it is to these last, spirits of evil and darkness, that people used formerly to devote their foes, using the following imprecation: Abi in malam partem. If by mala parte was meant darkness, no doubt bona parte meant light, day as opposed to night. There can then be no doubt that this name is connected with the sun, especially 'when it is seen to be associated with
Napoleon, who is himself the sun, as has been already demonstrated.
2. According to Greek mythology. Apollo was born in an island in the Mediterranean (the Isle of Delos): an island in the Mediterranean has, therefore, been fabled as the birthplace of Napoleon; and the preference has been given to Corsica, because the relative positions of Corsica and France, where he was to be made to reign, correspond best to those of Greece and Delos, where were situated the chief temples and oracles of Apollo.
Pausanias, it is true, calls Apollo an Egyptian divinity; but it does not follow that an Egyptian divinity must be born in Egypt: it is enough that he should be there regarded as a god, and that is what Pausanias meant. He designed to inform us that the Egyptians worshipped Apollo, and that establishes yet another connection between Napoleon and the sun; for Napoleon is said to have been held in Egypt to be invested with supernatural qualities, to have been regarded as the friend of Mahomet, and to have received homage partaking of the nature of adoration.
3. His mother is said to have been named Letitia. But by the word Letitia (or "joy") was meant the dawn whose first tender light fills all nature with joy. It is the dawn, say the poets, which brings forth the sun, flinging wide for him the portals of the Kast with her rosy-tipped fingers.
Again it is worthy of remark that, according to Greek mythology, the mother of Apollo was called Leto. But if the Romans made Latona of Leto, it has been preferred in our century to change it into Letitia. Then, this Letitia, no 1ess than her son, belongs to Greek mythology.
4. According to tradition, this son of Letitia had three sisters, and there can be no doubt that these three sisters are the three Graces, who, with their companions the Muses, were the ornaments of their brother Apollo's court.
5. This modern Apollo is said to have had four brothers. Now, as we shall show, these four brothers are the four seasons of the year. Let us not be startled, at the outset, at seeing the seasons represented by men rather than women. It ought not even to seem an innovation, since, in French, only one of the four seasons, the autumn, is feminine; and even with respect to that
our grammarians are disagreed. But in Latin autumnus is no more feminine than the other three seasons, so there is no difficulty on that point. The four brothers of Napoleon may very well represent the four seasons, and what follows proves that they really do so.
Of Napoleon's four brothers, three, they tell us, were kings; these three kings are Spring, who reigns over the flowers; Summer, who reigns over the harvest; and Autumn, who reigns over the fruit. As these three seasons derive all their potent influence from the sun, we are told that Napoleon's three brothers held their sovereignty at his hands, and reigned only by his authority. And when it is added that of Napoleon's four brothers one was not a king, it is because one of the four seasons Winter, reigns over nothing. But if, to invalidate our parallel, it were alleged that Winter was not without sway, and if it were wished to ascribe to him the dismal principality of the frosts and snows which whiten our land at this melancholy season, our answer would be ready: that, we should say, is what was designed to be shown by the empty and ridiculous principality with which this brother of Napoleon is said to have been invested after the fall of all his family. This principality has been described as in connection with the village of Canino, in preference to any other, because Canino comes from cani, which denotes the white hairs of chill old age, and they recall winter. For, to the poet, the forests crowning our hill-sides are locks of hair; and when Winter covers them with his hoar frost, it is the white hairs of failing nature in the old age of the year.
Cum gelidus crescit canis in montibus humor.
Thus the pretended Prince of Canino is nothing more than the personification of winter. Winter begins when nothing more is left of the three good seasons, and the sun is at his greatest distance from our country, which is invaded the furious children of the north, the poet's name for the winds: the winds come from northern climes, discolor our land, and cover it with a detested
whiteness. This has given rise to the fabulous account of the invasion of the northern nations into France, where they are said to have done away with a parti-colored flag adorning it and to have substituted a white one which entirely covered it, after the exile of the fabulous Napoleon. It would be idle to repeat that this is merely emblematical of the rime that the winds from the north produce in the winter, and which obliterates the charming colors that the sun produced in our land, before he waned and departed from us. It is easy to see the analogy of all these things with the ingenious fables conceived in our century.
6. According to these same fables, Napoleon had two wives; hence two wives have been attributed to the sun. These two wives are the moon and the earth : the moon according to the Greeks (Plutarch is our authority), and the earth according to the Egyptians ; with this noteworthy difference, that by the moon the sun had no issue, and by the earth he had a son, an only son. This child was the little Horus, son of Osiris and Isis; that is to say, of the sun and the earth, as may be seen in the "History of the Heavens," Vol. I., p. 61 and following. It is an Egyptian allegory, where the little Horus, born from the earth impregnated by the sun, represents the fruits of agriculture. Even so the birth of the supposed son of Napoleon has been fixed at the
2Oth of March, the period of the vernal equinox, because in the spring agricultural produce undergoes its most important phase of development.
7. Napoleon is said to have put an end to a devastating scourge which terrorized France, and was called the Hydra of the Revolution. Now, a hydra is a serpent, of what kind matters little, especially when the serpent is fabulous. The Python, an enormous serpent, was the cause of great terror in Greece; Apollo slew the monster, and dissipated the fear of the people; this was his first exploit. Hence we are told that Napoleon began his reign by crushing the French Revolution, which is itself as much a chimera as everything else. For revolution is obviously derived from the Latin word rwolutus, which denotes a curled-up serpent. The Revolution is the Python, neither more nor less.
8. The celebrated warrior of the nineteenth century had under him, we are told, twelve marshals at the head of his armies, and four were not in active service. Now, the twelve first are obviously the twelve signs of the zodiac, marching under the orders of the sun Napoleon, each of them commanding a division of the innumerable army of the stars, which is called the celestial host in the Bible, and is divided into twelve parts, corresponding to the twelve signs of the zodiac. Such are the twelve marshals who, according to our mythical chronicles, were actively employed under the Emperor Napoleon. The four others, in all probability, are the four cardinal points, which, fixed amid universal motion, are very well symbolised by the inactivity of which we have spoken.
Thus, all these marshals, active and inactive, are purely symbolical beings, with no more reality than their leader.
9. We are told that this leader of so many brilliant armies overran in triumph the countries of the south, but that, having penetrated too far north, he was there unable to maintain himself. Now, these details precisely apply to the sun's course. The sun, it is well known, rules supreme in the south, as is said of the Emperor Napoleon. But it is most worthy of note that, after the vernal equinox, the sun makes for the northern regions, and moves further away from the Equator. But when he has taken his course in this direction for three months, he encounters the North Tropic, which compels him to retreat and go back the way he came to the south, following the sign Cancer, or Crab ; which sign, according to Macrobius, derives its name from the retrograde course of the sun in this region of the globe. This, then, is the material from which has been drawn Napoleon's imaginary northern expedition to Moscow, together with the humiliating retreat by which it is said to have been followed.
Thus everything we have been told of the success or defeat of this strange warrior is nothing more than a series of allusions to the course of the sun.
10. Finally, and this needs no explanation, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, as all the world knows. But to the spectators at the extremities of the earth, the sun seems to rise from the eastern sea in the morning and to plunge into the western sea at night. It is, moreover, thus that poets describe his rising and setting.
That, then, is all we are to understand when we are told that Napoleon came by sea from the east (Egypt) to reign over France, and that he disappeared in the western seas after a reign of twelve years. The twelve years are nothing more than the twelve hours of the day during which the sun shines on the horizon.
"He reigned but a day," says the author of "Les Nouvelles Messeniennes," speaking of Napoleon: and the way in which- he describes his rise, decline, and fall shows that, like ourselves, this delightful poet saw in Napoleon nothing more than an image of the sun. And in truth he is nothing more. His name proves it: his mother's name proves it; his three sisters, his four brothers, his two wives, his son, his marshals, his exploits. all prove it.
It is proved, moreover, by his birthplace; by the regions whence we are told, he came before entering on his career of dominion; by the time he employed in traversing those regions; by the countries where he prevailed, by those where he succumbed; and by the place where he vanished, pale and discroivned, after his brilliant course, to quote the poet Casimir Delavigne.
It has, then, been proved that the supposed hero of our century is nothing more than an allegorical personage, deriving his attributes from the sun. It follows that Napoleon Bonaparte, of whom so much has been said and written, never even existed; and this fallacy, into which so many people have fallen headlong, arises from the amusing blunder of mistaking the mythology of
the nineteenth century for history.
We might further have appealed in support of our contention to a great number of royal ordinances, whose indisputable dates are evidently irreconcilable with the reign of the pretended Napoleon; but we have had sound reasons for letting them alone.

“But this sacrifice was not made in order to create in the Father’s heart a love for man, not to make Him willing to save. No, no! “God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son.” John 3:16. The Father loves us, not because of the great propitiation, but He provided the propitiation because He loves us. Christ was the medium through which He could pour out His infinite love upon a fallen world. “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself.” 2 Corinthians 5:19.” – Steps to Christ.
“God does not force the will of His creatures. He cannot accept an homage that is not willingly and intelligently given” – Steps to Christ.God does not force the Gift of Salvation onto us; love never forces. He offers it gladly, and we are free to accept or decline it. We are free to choose life or death; however, God pleads with us to choose the former life, not the latter (Ezekial 33:11).
“None are so sinful that they cannot find strength, purity, and righteousness in Jesus, who died for them. He is waiting to strip them of their garments stained and polluted in sin, and to put upon them the white robes of righteousness; He bids them live and not die.” – Steps to Christ.
“There are those who profess to serve God, while they rely upon their own efforts to obey His law, to form a right character, and secure salvation. Their hearts are not moved by any deep sense of love of Christ, but they seek to perform the duties of the Christian life as that which God requires of them in order to gain heaven. Such religion is worth nothing.” – Steps to Christ.No amount of good doing contributes to what God has done for us. If it did, it would insinuate that Jesus’ sacrifice was not good enough, was not perfect. Our salvation is not Jesus’ righteousness plus some of our righteousness. It is only Jesus’ righteousness on our behalf. It is Jesus only. The only contribution we make is to accept God’s perfect salvation for us.
“When Christ dwells in the heart, the soul will be filled with His love, with the joy of communion with Him, that it will cleave to Him; and in the contemplation of Him, self will be forgotten. Love to Christ will be the spring of action.” – Steps to Christ.
“…if one is, for example, a Mormon, and you believe what you're told 100%, and you're absolutely sure about it - you STILL end up in hell? …it just seems sort of unfair.”



Okay, so I saw Religulous (2008). After hearing so much bad rap about it, I was surprised by finding myself actually liking it. However, I didn’t find it funny. The only partially funny part of the documentary are the posters. Wasn't this film supposed to be humorous? It is after all hosted by comedian Bill Maher. For some reason I thought that comedy was the intention; but truly, I didn’t laugh once. Then again, I didn’t laugh watching Borat either – thought it was the stupidest film I’ve ever wasted time and money on. Why do I mention Religulous and Borat in the same sentence? Simple, they were both directed by Larry Charles.
Back to Religulous. I liked it because it highlights some very pertinent questions that I also ask. For instance, why do Christians believe in things that are not in the Bible? An example would be the celebration of Jesus’ birth on December 25th. Or keeping Sunday holy. These observances are nowhere to be found in Scripture, but still it is practiced as Biblical truth by the majority of Christendom. And that’s, in part, why I liked Religulous. It asks some valid questions.
A theme from Religulous is how Christianity does not reflect Jesus. I think this is in part what I tried to address in a post earlier this month: Religion vs Real Christianity. Maher asks some religious figures about the example of Jesus, versus their own; comparing religious figures with rock stars, which is so contrary to Jesus. Again, good and very valid questions. Standing in front of the Vatican Maher asks: “Does that look anything, like anything Jesus Christ had in mind?” A valid question. While I don’t believe God has anything against being wealthy (there were many examples of godly and wealthy men in the Bible), it is true that many religious figures seem to be in it for the money – this is foiled sharply against the example of Jesus. If anything, the purpose of the Church is NOT to make money for itself. Instead, it ought to be a conduit of encouragement, love and grace. And money received is to be channeled into helping others, not itself.
After an interview with some Christian truckers, Maher finishes his conversation with: “Thank you for being Christ-like and not just Christian.” How sad that there should be such a clear difference between Christians and the Christ they follow; and that the real thing is the exception, rather than the norm. It is for this reason that I often do not want to call myself a Christian. I honestly find little in common with Christianity, and the vindicative hateful “God” they represent.
For instance, in Religulous, Christians are shown with posters saying “God hates fags!” One lady announced “I don’t hate them [homosexuals]; God hates them!” (So one is to believe that, a mere mortal is more loving that the God of love?!) What these depictions show me is that these Christians do not know what the Bible teaches when read cohesively. God does not hate sinners, God hates sin; and God doesn’t hate sin arbitrarily, but because of how it hurt us or those around us. Actually, the Bible teaches the opposite of what these posters say: God loves sinners (Romans 5:8)! And speaking of homosexuals, in the Bible homosexuals are listed among a group of other sinners, like drunkards and envious people (1 Corinthians 6:9, 10). Why don’t we see Christians with posters shouting God hates drunkards and God hates envious people? Probably because half of them like to take to the bottle or are jealous of their neighbors. These kinds of double standards by “Christians” is a terrible blight on the religion. Jesus clearly taught not to point the finger, and on many occasions proved by word and example that He is not judgmental. Now, if a perfect person like Jesus did not judge the “sinners” of his day, who are we – full of faults and sins – to judge anybody?
I also have to agree with an Amen, when Maher says: “Two things that are completely incompatible is Christianity, as Jesus taught it, and nationalism.” This is probably one of the main purposes of this blog – my protest against Church and State. The Kingdom of God is not of this World, let us never forget it; and not try to make it otherwise.
Maher interviewed a Catholic priest at the Vatican observatory discussing religion versus science. The priest remarked: “The Scriptures are not teaching science.” How true. And that is part of the problem – people do not know how to read the Bible. I’ve written about that before too: Who Wrote the Bible? While I agree that the Bible is not a science book, I disagree with the assumption that Science and Religion are on all things mutually exclusive. There definitely are areas of overlap. And his blanket questions, like “Do you believe in Evolution?” is very much naïve on the topic. Firstly, there are many types of evolution. For instance, cosmological evolution, macro biological evolution, micro biological evolution and here we find three further types: divergent, convergent and parallel evolution. I, for instance do not believe in macro evolution, but I do believe in micro evolution. On many occasions in the documentary Maher would ask such blanket questions, and did not allow his interviewees to explain their views in full.
He also makes big deals out of strange things. For instance, the fact that the virgin birth is not recorded in all four of the Gospels is of pivotal value to Maher. Or the fact that very little is known of Jesus' childhood is heavily troublesome for Maher. Why should this be the case? Jesus’ childhood is actually of very little consequence for the Gospels. That Jesus’ birth is covered is what ought to be surprising. The Gospels (first four books of the New Testament) are not biographies, as Maher believes. A biography covers the majority of a person life. This is not what the Gospels do or intends to do. They only substantially cover the three years of Jesus’ ministry and only touch on the highlights. His criticism of the Gospel in this regard is unfounded. It’s like criticising a news article for not reading like a good screenplay.
Further, Maher addresses the great old Question of Evil: “Why doesn’t He [God] just obliterate the Devil and therefore get rid of evil in the world?” This is an old theological / philosophical question and which I addressed on this blog before as well. It is a question that Maher, who is a champion of freedom (and freedom of speech in particular), ought to be able to figure out the answer of for himself. I’ve addressed this dilemma in parts in various posts here before, but let’s try to summarize it:
God is Love and the highest value for God is Love and God wants us all to share in that Love. A requirement for Love is the Freedom of Choice. Forced love is an
oxymoron. Bribed love is not love, it’s prostitution. Coerced love is not love, it’s harassment. Forced love is not love, it’s rape. We, therefore, have freedom of choice to love or not to love. Many people choose selfishness, i.e. not to love, and the result is pain and suffering to others and ourselves. If I rape you, I have used my freedom of choice not to love you. Shockingly, God cannot do anything about it, without taking away my freedom of choice. It is all good and well to ask God to take away all the suffering in the world, but at what cost? To do so, God has to take away our freedom of choice, in which case God would not be Love, but a Tyrant.
Religulous’ reference to Christianity being a copycat religion I well addressed in my post on the Zeitgeist film, and it would seem that Religulous did exactly the same type of ridiculously lame scholarship that Zeitgeist did. Then again, that’s what one would expect from Hollywood, isn’t it?
Religulous also addresses Faith and Maher describes it as follows: “Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking.” This is sadly, actually what most religions including the majority of Christianity does. This, of course, is not what Biblical faith involves as I explained in a recent post on "Faith". Maher praises doubt throughout the movie, saying: “Doubt is humble.” It is true in part. Admitting how little we know is humble. Not pretending to have all the answers is humble. But boasting doubt? It might be honest; I just don’t know whether it is humble.
I have a list of probably another ten points I can write about, but I think the above mentioned is enough.
To conclude, in general I liked Religulous for the simple reason that it asks some pertinent (and honest) questions. While there are some moments one could argue somewhat blasphemous, it was very clear to me that Maher actually have very high esteem for Jesus and much of his questions revolved around why Christianity are not like the "Christ" they profess. Much of the film, however, was based on the doubt of Maher (and assumingly also that of Larry Charles), and at times (deliberate?) misrepresentation of those involved. I cannot say that there was anything in this documentary that presented new questions, or facts to shake my trust in God. (It might shake one's faith in Religion, but that's nothing new -- my faith is not in Religion.)
In my opinion, a much better documentary on the topic of religious fundamentalism is CNN’s three part documentary God’s Warriors.