|
Note: This essay first appeared in the
April 2009 Baptist Studies Bulletin.
Sometimes I wonder if Christ's agony in Gethsemane was in part
remorse over the knowledge that his death on the cross, while opening
the door to life for humanity, would also unleash endless human
violence and death. James Carroll's
Constantine's Sword reminds us that not only was
the cross not an early symbol of Christianity, but that
it's appropriation by the Emperor Constantine in his
battle against Maxentius in 312 positioned the cross as a
symbol of war rather than peace and love. From the fourth century
forward, nations bearing the Christian cross (whether displayed
literally, as in the Crusades, or in popular rhetoric, as in the Iraq
invasion), have waged war against the "other," while Christian state
officials have persecuted and killed unacceptable Christians
(including Baptists) within their own borders. The intertwining of the
Christian cross with war, death, and violence is so historically
pervasive that for the past 1600 years, Christian thinkers have
struggled to
establish philosophical foundations for Christian involvement in war
and violence, and during the early years of the current
Iraq conflict,
conservative Christians in America were among the greatest supporters
of the war. Such is the complicity that pacifism since the
time of Constantine has seemingly been a minority viewpoint among
Christians.
War-supporting Christians, of course, find little foundation
for their views in the Gospels. Christ clearly taught and practiced
peace and reconciliation, not war and violence, as the means of
opposing evil. On the other hand, many of his followers have for
centuries argued for the need to violently resist the worst
manifestations of evil (such as Hitler, in more recent times). In
addition,
some Christian leaders today sanction war and violence if it advances
Western democracy. Indeed, many contemporary American
Christians envision America as the guiding light of the world, placed
in a position of moral superiority and responsibility for spreading,
to the point of enforcement, westernized "Christian" ideals (the
Religious Right's
Council for National Policy for the past several decades
has played a significant role in
shaping America's militaristic foreign policy).
But what of America as the world's guiding light and moral
example? The United States, containing less than five per cent of the
world's population,
is home to one in every four of the world's prisoners. One
in 31 U.S. adults are
behind bars, on parole, or on probation. In the state of
Georgia, "one in thirteen adults is behind bars or under community
supervision." Among developed nations, the American Journal of Public
Health concludes that the U.S. has the
highest rate of gun ownership and homicides among developed nations.
Mass killings have become a routine part of American life, as we are
reminded almost weekly, if not daily. South of our border, the vast
majority of guns (including assault rifles) used by Mexican drug
cartels
originate in America. Worldwide, the United States
arms many
of the world's dictators, producing
roughly one-half of all conventional (non-nuclear) international arms
delivered throughout the entire world.
What's a Christian citizen, called by Christ to a life of
peace, justice, and mercy, to do in a nation routinely experiencing
mass killings, teeming with criminals, maintaining a love affair with
assault weapons, supplying arms to dictators and drug cartels
worldwide, and invading other nations in order to spread Western
enlightenment?
A re-affirmation of the Baptist heritage of separation of
church and state would be a good starting point; our Baptist forebears
understood the problems of aligning church with state. Perhaps we
should also recognize the fallacy of holding up America as a moral
example, much less a Christian example. Maybe a renewed openness to
Christian pacifism and opposition to violence is merited. And has the
time come for followers of Christ in America and around the world to
re-address the issue of the cross as representative of Christianity?
Rather than allowing the legacy of Constantine to trump the life and
teachings of Christ, what if we were to return to the faith symbols of
the earliest believers, bringing those symbols out of the catacombs
and into our personal lives and public witness? Of those ancient
symbols, I would probably choose the Good Shepherd or the dove.
Which one would you chose?
|
