An Atheist and a Minister Walked Into a Bar. . .
An Atheist and a Minister Walked Into a Bar. . .
Virginia Beach, VA
Actually, I walked into a theater to see Bill Maher’s new documentary, Religulous, but one theater worker definitely stared at me as if she were waiting for the punch line when she found out I was a pastor who had paid to see this film. No doubt many Baptists will be boycotting Religulous if not decrying it. Maher stated in an interview with Larry King in August that he hopes Religulous will become “The Passion of the Christ” for the 16% of Americans who are non-religious. Personally, I hope his docu-comedy will serve as a wakeup call to people of faith
For much of my life I, like Maher, attended church simply because my parents insisted that I go. In my early adolescence I spent many a Sunday morning crouched in the floorboard of the family car to avoid going to Sunday school. Worship was boring and I didn’t see the point. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t much difference between people I knew who went to church and those who did not. The Christians I saw on TV in the mid 1980’s were nothing but big hair and saccharine smiles. If that qualified as “real” Christianity I was prepared to pass.
While watching Maher interview a series of ostentatious preachers, Jesus impersonators, faith-exploiting politicians, and self-proclaimed Messiahs, I cringed as much as laughed—and found myself often siding with Maher. The theme-park musicals, theologically validated homophobia, and kitschy gift shops that are the outgrowths of their “ministries” have nothing to do with why Jesus lives or what He stands for. They certainly have nothing to do with why I have given my life to Him since my floorboard days. Yet, these people and these enterprises form Maher’s image of religion in general and Christianity in particular.
It should be emphasized that Maher is about as fair and balanced in matters of religion as Sean Hannity is in matters of politics. The film is limited strictly to his preconceptions. In his quest to “understand” Christianity, Maher doesn’t seek out a single respected theologian to answer his questions. He doesn’t ask the Pennsylvania Amish where they found the strength to forgive the man who gunned down their children at school. He doesn’t mention the many ecumenical mission teams still volunteering to help rebuild post-Katrina New Orleans. He doesn’t visit Baptist AIDS ministries in New York, Catholic orphanages in Central America, or any number of faith-based homeless shelters and soup kitchens around the world. For these (and many other) omissions people of faith can rightfully criticize him.
But we must criticize ourselves as well. As much as we might like to, we cannot blame Maher for the caricatures of religion portrayed in the film. The sad truth is that, by and large, religious people have constructed Maher’s myopic image of faith for him. More than twenty-five years of vocal religious activity centered on narrow ideological agendas, partisan political activism, and the merchandising of orthodoxy has come to define broader public perception of what faith is. Maher didn’t buy 65 million copies of the Left Behind series. Maher didn’t raise $27 million to build a Creation(ist) Museum. Maher hasn’t sold his soul to the Republican Party because he believes his Bible tells him Christians can’t vote for Democrats—or vice versa. The parody of faith acted out in Religulous is staged by people of faith.
Rewriting this parody into something more cogent and Christ-like is the challenge of the twenty-first century Church. Even if we ourselves did not help construe the parody as it exists, we are guilty by association in the minds of Maher and those who share his image of religion—a segment of society that is growing faster than any congregation out there. We are also guilty in that our passivity has allowed the cartoonish religion featured in Religulous to gain center-stage. If we desire to be faithful Christian witnesses in this culture of skepticism, we must move beyond church programs and campaigns. Indeed, we must move beyond the church. The sacrificial, inconvenient, and intentional living of our faith is the only thing that will cut through the negativity now so widely associated with organized religion.
Jesus still has hope, peace, joy, and love to offer this world that science cannot explain, reason cannot fully fathom, and materialism cannot supply. However, people outside the church will not see those things in Christ if they do not see them in Christians. It was a relationship with a smart, articulate, and devout college professor that pulled me out of the floorboard and into the fold. His Christ-like example—not his flashy presentation or self-righteous certitude—showed me who Jesus is. Even Maher recognized the difference. While leaving the Trucker Chapel in Charlotte, NC, he thanks the congregation for “being Christ-like and not just Christian.”
Religulous concludes with Maher chiding humanity to “grow up.” He’s right. We need to—all of us. For those of us who are followers of Jesus, that means owning the faith we profess rather than outsourcing it to pastors or lobbies or marketing firms so that when those who are not devoted to Christ think about Christianity they think of profound forgiveness, ministry to “the least of these,” and other forms of Christ-likeness rather than theme parks, media genres, or party platforms that have come to be labeled “Christian.”
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