Now that its original meaning has been hopelessly distorted by hatred
and bad vibes, the term "Christian" really should be banished to the hall
of linguistic abominations where it belongs.
Say "Christian" in mixed company and the image of a bejeweled
evangelist hawking a right-wing social agenda will come immediately to
mind.
Very few think of Christians as the same folks who embraced lepers and
other social outcasts even before faith-based tax credits kicked in to
provide "incentives" for doing the Lord's work.
Once upon a time, being called a Christian was an invitation to
participate in one's own beheading. When Christians weren't worshipping in
catacombs or refusing to bend a knee to the emperor, they were turning up
their noses at every form of social control.
Christians were once anarchists who believed in a kingdom that
transcended the petty ambitions of politicians and assorted antichrists.
A mere three centuries after the Galilean Jew who got the ball rolling
was strapped to a gurney and executed, Emperor Constantine "legitimized"
the wild-eyed cult of peace by turning it into the mascot of imperial
power it has remained ever since.
Over the centuries, the term "Christian" has become identified with
piety and economic striving for its own sake. Lost in the scramble for
respectability is a sense of indignation at the machinations of empire.
Never mind the example set by the itinerant rabbi Christians claim to
follow. Not too many of them seem to notice the religious wars, pogroms,
inquisitions and rationales for chattel slavery that occur whenever hands
clasped firmly in prayer also clutch the reins of temporal power.
In a country that flatters itself with the sobriquet "Christian
nation," the majority of American "Christians" support the death penalty
without experiencing a second of cognitive dissonance.
A disturbing number of Christians can't get past the book of Leviticus
without gathering rocks to stone every stray "sodomite" crossing their
path.
Alas, the Jesus that reigns over America takes delight in schemes to
expel illegal aliens from the land.
Because her blond mane and feral eyes give her an uncanny resemblance
to all four horses of the Apocalypse, the American Jesus has a soft spot
for Ann Coulter, despite her hateful shtick.
In her latest best-selling tirade "Godless: The Church of Liberalism,"
Ms. Coulter demonstrates why she's a "Christian" and her political
opponents are the spawn of Satan.
In "Godless," a book that proves there is often truth in advertising as
far as titles are concerned, Ms. Coulter proves her love for humanity by
questioning the motives of the widows who successfully lobbied for the
creation of the 9/11 Commission.
When she's through with her shoddy hit-piece that includes speculation
about whether the widows' husbands were planning to divorce them before
al-Qaida spared them a visit to divorce court, you can't help but feel
you're in the presence of something supernaturally despicable.
No one slings mud imported straight from the Stygian depths quite like
Ms. Coulter, a McCarthyite-smear artist who loves generating revulsion
across the political spectrum every time she has a book to flog.
Her exaggerations, hackery, lies and bad faith are dutifully pointed
out by critics every time she hits the book circuit, but the insincerity
of her Christian profession is rarely commented upon. This has always
bothered me.
Recently, I realized that Ann Coulter's gall in calling herself a
"Christian" isn't any of my business. The problem is my own stupidity in
identifying myself as a "Christian" when the word is devoid of its
original meaning and has even come to stand for its metaphysical opposite.
I continue to believe in the things I've always believed about the
faith, but I can't be a Christian in a world where Ann Coulter can call
herself a Christian without fear of contradiction.
I'm open to suggestions about a new spiritual handle since I've already
removed "Christian" from my lexicon of spiritual name-dropping.
I wouldn't mind being called a Jew of some sort, but I don't think
those good people will have me. Since they're only 3 percent of the
population, you'd think a brother could catch a break. Alas, I bring too
much baggage to the table.
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