Rich Mayfield
For: 2-6-10
For most of my younger years the only authority I questioned was my mother who responded to my queries by chasing me around the house with a wooden spoon. I accepted the universal assertions that Ike was a hero, Khrushchev was the anti-Christ and Jesus was Norwegian. The first premise was affirmed by my fourth-grade teacher Mr. Albright, the second by our wild-eyed neighbor Frieda Hellman and the last by the plethora of paintings that hung in our little Lutheran church.
There He was, sculpted by his fine Scandinavian features…the long thin nose, the square jaw, the beautifully flowing hair with just the faintest of blond highlights. Anyone with an objective eye could see the heritage…especially if your name was Sven or Olav. That Bethlehem was over two thousand miles to the south did not seem to hinder the Aryan assumption that permeated our parish. It wasn’t until I had done some traveling that I realized Jesus probably looked more like Yasser Arafat than Charlton Heston.
That the image of Jesus has been altered by his adoring followers is evident right from the very beginning. Even the gospel writers didn’t completely agree on what he said or how he said it. (Passages happily provided.) By the time of Constantine in the early 4th century, Jesus’ cross had been flipped into a sword by which the converted Christian emperor could slay all those who opposed his new found faith.
More recently, Jesus’ fans have turned his teachings into polemics for free-market capitalism, Marxist-styled socialism and world-rebuking asceticism. Even Hitler had a task-force created to prove that Jesus didn’t have any Jewish blood.
In the 1970’s Jesus turned into a free-spirited superstar with a hit Broadway musical. In the more progressive churches, the Norwegian Jesus was replaced by one more closely resembling yippie Abbie Hoffman, contemptuously laughing at our uptight social mores and incessant material acquisitions. By the turn of this century, Jesus was primarily used to bolster big-time athletics with players bowing their heads before blasting out of the locker room hell-bent on being #1. TV evangelists by the score promise that Jesus wants us to be rich, beautiful and as buff as Brad and Angelina.
So I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that surprised when I read this week of the new alignment some of Jesus’ disciples have made with Mixed Martial Arts. If you’re not familiar with this apparently pleasant pastime for thousands of primarily young men, it involves getting into a ring, or sometimes a cage, and trying to beat the crap out of your opponent. This newly sanctified sport involves kickboxing, wrestling, fisticuffs and just about any other form of violent conflict this side of a .357 magnum. As I understand it, there are a growing number of churches that are sponsoring these testosterone-driven dramas as a means of garnering favor for Christianity among the violence-prone set. Interestingly, Ryan Dobson, son of Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family fame, is one of those spearheading (no pun intended) this evangelical campaign. According to Dobson the younger: “We’ve raised a generation of little boys.” Which I can only assume means Christianity is in need of big boys who like to fight each other. As a former pastor and sometimes Christian, I can report that Christianity already has enough of those guys.
I suppose there may be some believers who fall back on the old evangelical premise: “Whatever works” in their fervor to convert the fallen but I also suspect there are more than a few followers of Jesus who are scratching their heads over the logic employed. After all, what would Jesus say? (That’s easy)
“Uff da!”