Dave
Van Allen
Dave
is the webmaster of the popular www.exchristian.net
My
son was enjoying some time in a
small city park near our home
recently, when a scruffy
middle-aged man, accompanied by
a singularly obese 40ish woman,
walked up and began to preach
– at full volume.
My son, IPOD ear buds embedded
deeply in each ear canal,
watched as others lounging on
benches or in the grass, stirred
to their feet to seek out a
quieter perch.
“The sins of the youth in this
nation are stoking the fires of
hell,” shouted the evangelist.
“Repent and believe the Gospel
before the time of reckoning!”
My son, immune to such things
from living over half his life
under a strict, fundamentalist
father, and the other half under
a website building apostate, was
entertained by the scene. He
turned up his IPOD to filter out
the noise, smiled pleasantly,
and waited to see if there was
more than one act in this show.
The righteous monologue
continued for another 30
minutes, the guy barely pausing
for air. My son eventually
decided to leave the lunatic to
his rapt congregation of trees,
rocks, and empty benches.
The next morning in the local
paper, a nearly full-page
article exclaimed,
“Evangelistic Crusade for
Christ in North Park. Crusade
continues for a week.”
The article went on to interview
the “local evangelist and his
lovely wife.” Not
surprisingly, no one else was
quoted in the article.
Now, I happen to know these
self-proclaimed
"evangelists." Both
are on welfare and live in
subsidized housing. He is
legally blind and she is
unemployed. He doesn't drive,
but does manage to navigate
around town on a three-wheel
bicycle, usually down the center
of the street, with the text of
Psalm 14:1 boldly emblazoned on
his silver mesh basket filled
with groceries or random
objects.
Perhaps this man is an
illustration of one of the
things that draw people to
Christianity. People with
limited resources of mind, body,
and/or material, are made to
feel significant.
I know that my feeling of
significance was elevated by
Christianity. I felt I was
personally loved by the Lord of
Creation, for one thing. Then I
sought out and took on all kinds
of lay leadership roles:
teacher, musician, group leader,
mentor, street preacher, event
organizer, missionary, prison
minister, geriatric center
minister,... Oh yeah, I felt
significant all right. And I
didn't have to go to college,
learn how to write, understand
science, know much about
history, have money or good
lucks or develop six-pack abs,
or do anything else very
difficult. The only thing I had
to know was the basic Gospel
message. After all, the wisdom
of this world is foolishness to
God, right? And the end of all
things is near, with the Rapture
right around the corner, right?
It would be foolish of me to
invest much time or resources
into learning anything remotely
“secular" or "of
this world." And what could
be more important than investing
in eternity? Anything less than
everlasting has got to be
insignificant, right?
The need to feel significant and
part of something lasting — a
basic human longing — finds
quick satisfaction chasing the
metaphorical carrot offered by
Christianity. And in case the
Christian's "inner
beast" ever tires of
plodding along after the elusive
promise, there's always that
hell-stick to keep the dumb
animal on track. Not that
there's anything wrong with
wanting to feel significant. As
I said, it's a basic human
longing. It's just that the
significance found in
Christianity is illusory. People
spend hours sitting, reading the
Bible, praying for others,
talking, and for the most part, doing
nothing. Christians fret
and fume about “how much good
is done by Christians in the
world,” but I never hear
average Christians telling
stories that detail anything
they've personally done outside
of supporting their immediate
social group and occasionally proselytizing.
“Wait a minute! I'm a
Christian and I went to Ghana on
a mission’s trip once! We
built a couple of houses!”
OK, but why did you do
that? Did you do it because you
had a deep driving desire to
deliver relief to the poor, or
was it because going on a trip
organized by your church sounded
like fun? Someone who really
wants to help people might
devote long solitary years to
studying medicine, and then
freely give his or her talent
away to diseased etches in
Africa, and then maybe even die
from the sacrifice. “Dr.
Livingston, I presume.” Just
in case someone reading didn't
know, Livingston wasn't a real
Christian.
“I still say that Christians
have done more for the world
than anyone!”
Really? Do all Christians do
great humanitarian things? Do
most Christians do great
humanitarian things? Is finding
a Christian involved in
extraordinary self-sacrifice the
norm, or is it the exception?
Answer honestly. If you ask me,
I'd say that the bulk of
Christians hide behind their
heroes when it comes to actually
doing anything significant. What
I mean is, Christians satisfy
themselves that some other
Christians have done great
things. Then these same
Christians mystically adopt
those “accomplishments” as
their own. “So-and-so built an
orphanage for the children of
lepers with his own hands and
money -- money he'd earned while
cleaning toilets at the ballpark
for 10 years. He is a Christian,
and I am a Christian, soooo...”
Do Christians get vicarious
credit for good works the same
way they get vicarious
atonement?
Christians obtain a feeling of
significance without actually
having to do anything except
maybe think a pious thought,
pronounce a pithy prayer, or
peruse one or two pedantic
publications while snuggled in a
recliner.
So to the Christians, I say
“Repent!” Stop
congratulating yourselves for
how significant you “feel”
after blubbering, blabbering and
bitching about unbelievers. Make
something of your life and
actually be
significant.
