This past Christmas was a special day for me. Not only did I celebrate the feast of the Incarnation of Christ, but it was my thirtieth birthday. That’s right—I share a birthday with Jesus. There are both positive and negative aspects to being born on Christmas. I imagine there are ups and downs to celebrating your birth any other day. One particular challenge of celebrating Christmas, the New Year, and another year of my life all within a week of each other is that I tend to be overly pensive this time of year. I spend an inordinate amount of time reflecting on highlights of the past year, regrets, things left undone. I begin to think about my hopes and fears for the coming year.
As I reflect on the events of the past year and look to what lies ahead, I would like to begin my fourth decade of life with a confession.
I’m embarrassed to be a Christian.
I am not embarrassed by Jesus at all. In fact, the more I learn about Jesus, the more I am in awe of him. I am mostly embarrassed by the things people do in his name sometimes. I’ve been a Christian, in one form or another, for my entire life. Thirty years spent learning, un-learning, and re-learning what it means to be a follower of Jesus. I have made lots of mistakes, and by no means do I want to even pretend that my way of practicing Christianity is THE way. But I have learned a few things about what following Christ means. And I have also learned a few things—through my own mistakes, and through observing those made by others—about what is incompatible with Christianity.
Like many Christians, part of my Advent routine includes re-reading the Scriptural passages that foretell and recount the birth of Christ. In reading these familiar passages over the past few weeks, I was struck this year by a phrase that seemed like something of a refrain.
Do not fear.
The old priest Zechariah is surprised when an angel tells him that he and his wife will bear John the Baptist in their old age. “Do not fear,” the angel tells him (Luke 1:11-13).
Startled to learn that she will conceive a son despite her virginity, Mary is told by the angel, “Do not fear” (Luke 1:29-31).
An angel, announcing the birth of Christ the Savior in Bethlehem, proclaims to shepherds in a nearby field, “Do not fear” (Luke 2:9-11).
During this season when Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the Bible seems to be saying, among other things, don’t be afraid. Something about the good news of Jesus Christ’s birth was intended to allay our fears.
So why is it that so many people are so often afraid of Christians, the ones who are supposed to be spreading that good news?
As I tried to understand more about the scriptural injunction to not fear, I investigated the original Greek texts. The Greek word used in each of these texts—phobia—got me thinking about all the ways that fear is alive and well in our culture: xenophobia, homophobia, islamophobia. Many in our culture are afraid of those with whom they have differences, and more frequently than I am comfortable, those who perpetuate these fears do so in the name of Christ. Some in my own tradition are so concerned about loyalty to their own conception of Christianity that they miss opportunities to talk with and learn from their Muslim, liberal, atheist, lesbian, homeless or immigrant neighbors.
I believe that the love that motivated God to become a man offers us more than fear of strangers and hate toward those with whom we have differences. Christianity teaches that we are to see the image of Christ in all. In fact, Christ himself teaches that whenever we show kindness and love toward strangers, its as though we do it unto him (see Matthew 25:44-46). Not only that, but we are to show hospitality to all, for in so doing, some have entertained angels unawares (Hebrews 13:1-3).
So to all my friends, colleagues, and fellow contributing scholars who have ever been hurt by, attacked by, or afraid of Christians:
As a Christian, I feel the same way sometimes. Please forgive us when we do not embody the best of our beliefs. And please forgive me if I ever cause you to be afraid.
excellent portrayal of deepfelt thoughts and convictions. It would be beneficial for all of us to think of those we may have offended or made fearful; and, indeed, the word “be not fearful” is timely and wise.
when our beliefs are our constant measure it is easier to be staid in them. it is when we falter or forget the cost of the cross, that we take up the old, more harmful ways.
i am blessed by your thoughts.
Thanks for this. Embarrassment at our own (Christian) shortcomings, both individual and collective, is entirely natural, and even should not be surprising: we remember that it was the Prince of the Apostles who denied Our Lord; we remember the parable of the wheat and the tares. So, on the one hand, we ought not to expect perfection (“See everything: overlook much: correct a little,” goes a saying attributed to Pope John XXII). That is a part of charity as it is of realism. But at the same time, and crucially, as we do not demand perfection, we must demand repentance. Eastern Orthodoxy as a Christian denomination is very good at individual repentance, but at collective repentance it may be the very worst. Something for us to work on …
Christ is born,
Victor
Beautiful post, Oliver–I love your link of the “Do not fear” refrain to the phobias so often attached to “faithful thinking and living.” As I am now closer to 40 than 30, I have been shifting–wondering more about how the “they” I once would have criticized are actually manifest in “me.” I am realizing my most important work will be within–and that through this I can be a model to others who are willing to take this on as well. In your apology at the end, you arrive at the same point–we can all better learn how to love…. Thank you for writing.
@Jennifer – I believe that the ability to identify with “they” is key to overcoming differences. I also agree that much of the “work” of inter-religious dialogue happens within. My strand of Christianity (Greek Orthodoxy) calls this “interior work.” We need to be self-critical before we are critical of others.
Thanks for the feedback.
Thanks for this post, Oliver. I, from time to time, have identified similiar feelings and have struggled to prevent the guilt of what the Christianity has done from destroying my identity within it. Thank you for these re-focusing words.