(Looking up towards the Old Man of Stour, Isle of Skye, Scotland. One of my favourite places)
[Manifesto A public declaration of intentions or opinions. A list of principles.]
I’ve challenged myself to distil some principles for living authentically and faithfully in a secular culture. I am me, and I am comfortable in my skin. I am not an exceptionally holy or good Christian, as I’ve tried to make clear in what follows. I wrote this as an exercise in reflection, not to dismiss people who think differently. It’s more a checklist that helps me clarify what I can and should bend with, and what warrants my active resistance to the status quo.
It’s not complete of course; more a living document than a definitive one. I hope you find it interesting or food for thought.
So, to begin, in no particular order.
Some things matter. Some don’t. Things like wealth and possessions seem like they matter, but they don’t. On the other hand, people always matter. It’s wise to hesitate before putting principles and things ahead of people.
Winning arguments doesn’t matter, but giving in and compromising values in the face of bullying is cowardice, and does matter greatly.
It’s tempting to look for simple solutions and pat answers. It can also be foolish.
There are all sorts of simple remedies for complex problems. Some would be effective if people were willing to listen to them. Be kind. Work hard. Give generously. Have respect. Spend wisely. Avoid blaming. Drive carefully. But then I guess we don’t like listening to advice, do we?
Life is complex and messy. People are too, and sometimes they need some slack cut for them. Certain behaviours and choices don’t warrant my approval, but neither do I need to spend my life running around condemning them.
I will resist the temptation to apologise for who I am. Admitting to having Christian faith carries a social cost. It is regarded variously with degrees of embarassment, amusement or contempt. The surest way to silence a social gathering is to mention the God or Jesus words. I will be polite and sensitive, but I will say what I think and believe regardless of any social cost.
Religion and faith are two quite different things. One does not presuppose the other. Religion is about outward conformity with ceremonies, rules, dogma, and power structures. Churches generally do religion quite well. Faith on the other hand is an intensely personal thing, not governed easily by those rules, dogmas or power structures. In my experience, churches do not do faith as well as they do religion. As I grow older I am becoming less religious and more faithful.
Life is a gift. It is not to be taken lightly or thrown away. Killing someone is wrong, whether it is done in retribution, in a fit of temper, or for social convenience. Abortion and euthanasia come to mind here, as although both practices have powerful emotive justifications, killing is what they involve, and killing is what they are. I should and will speak out against the unjust taking of life.
Having said that, I can think of a few scenarios when I would be sorely tempted to take someone else’s life.
I’ll take miracles when they come, every time. Some would rather tell me at length and tediously why miracles are impossible and that only stupid people would believe they occur. I leave them to their opinions. May they bring them comfort.
A lot of people I know have dismissed Jesus Christ on the basis of caricatures met as a child, or as a result of abuses committed by churches in his name. They would do well to reconsider with adult eyes. His message of radical love transforms lives and undermines the power structures of secular society (and churches). Today the establishment ignores him, ridicules his followers and thinks it has won. They have never understood who they are dealing with.
Prayer is not just a wish list, like something I might once have left in a Christmas stocking. Closer to me than my breath or my heartbeat, it transcends time and space, and opens dimensions of experience those bound in the everyday could not imagine. When I pray I can be completely myself, open to my creator God. That’s on a good day. Sometimes I admit I stare at my hands and wait for inspiration that doesn’t come.
Truth is not determined by popular or majority opinion. Wrong does not become right, or right become wrong simply because 51% of citizens vote that way. My conscience and values are not manipulated by popular opinion. That doesn’t mean I don’t listen to and learn from others, or never change my attitudes. It means just what it says.
Evil is real. It is personal and it walks among us. Those who ignore or deny the existence of evil aren’t paying attention.
It’s not all about me. Our culture has been obsessed with self gratification for so long now, it seems natural and a self evident good.
It is not. We have allowed ourselves to be conned.
How often have I heard “I/we should be able to do whatever I/we like as long as we are not hurting anyone else” trotted out to justify a self indulgent choice? It is a nonsense; a deceptive argument. How can I know I’m not hurting anyone else? I am not a reliable judge of whether others are unaffected by my selfishness. The ‘not hurting anyone’ defence of self indulgent, decadent life choices deserves nothing but contempt. Having said that, I’m rather fond of wine and can become a tad defensive when my wife suggests I might be too fond of it.
It is not wise to worship myself. If I value my choices, my desires, my interests, above those of my fellow travellers (and don’t we all, here and there and now and then), I am effectively worshipping myself. Placing myself at the centre of things is delusional and ultimately destructive.
In the same way, trying to control other people, in whatever way I try to do it, is self defeating, as the very intention and act diminishes both myself and those I seek to dominate. Humility doesn’t come naturally, but anything less is inevitably an abuse of power. Removing myself from the throne of self regard is a step on the road to genuinely appreciating others and becoming fully human.
‘Turning the other cheek’ is a misunderstood and misused Christian principle. It does not mean Christians should make wimpy doormats of themselves. Turning the other cheek can be an act of defiance when my adversary seeks to make me cower. It is a metaphor for non violent resistance. Meekness is a world away from subservience. However, in confronting evil, I should be careful not to become that which I resist by fighting evil with evil. I should be careful, for example, that my blog posts do not reflect the ugliness that characterises much commentary on social media. Abuse, name calling and demonising those who see things differently is always counter productive. It never leads to a just solution, or brings people together. However, driving in traffic, sitting in meetings, or waiting in supermarket checkout lines, I can tend to forget this.
I should remember that confronting evil can exact a high personal price. Talk is cheap. Standing up in the face of evil can not only cost me my peace of mind, my friends and my reputation. It could cost me my freedom and my life. I am not a particularly brave person however, and am not prone to poking my head above the parapet, except in blog posts.
I could go on, but will content myself with an executive summary:
Western culture seeks to have me adapt my faith to fit with its norms. Ultimately, when push comes to shove, I reserve the right to refuse. I hope the necessary courage is there when I need it.
Thanks for reading.