Redefining our Heroes
Our heroes and heroines may not always be who we expect them to be. Their works and legacies may have inspired us, their ideas influence us, or their actions enable us. But there will always be times when we’d have to disagree with what they say on certain matters, what they encourage others unfamiliar of those matters to believe in, what they have done in the past, what they have done recently, and just about everything that contradicts the philosophy we sometimes associate with them.
To put into context: I am a believer of the Christian faith. I believe that God made the world and its people equal, and that Jesus Christ died so we may be saved and get reunited with God. But recently, an influential evangelist has posted a Bible verse on his Facebook page and it caught my attention. While it may be with good intention to use God’s Word as his source, the message he was trying to convey turned out to be quite problematic and could cause more harm than good. He used that Bible verse to support his stance against diversity, co-existence, and inclusion.
These are his exact words: “Any sanctimonious quest for racial diversity within the church ignores the biblical reality that God ‘made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth.’ (Acts 17:26).”
The moment I read it, I wanted to understand where he’s coming from when he posted that message in a time when the vicious system of judging people based on skin color, culture and heritage, and sexual orientation has become more visible and rampant. That evangelist preaches at a mega church with thousands of followers, has sold millions of copies of his books worldwide, and is probably earning more riches than the earliest Christians who gave up their wealth and vices to heed the words of a carpenter’s son.
There are three phrases that caught me reeling in his post: “racial diversity within the church”, “ignores biblical reality”, and “every nation of mankind.”
Now, those are the three words that I want to emphasize for my response. You see, since I was 12, upon my conversion from Roman Catholicism to Evangelical Christianity, I’ve considered Christian thinkers — from CS Lewis to John Piper — as my heroes. Their works have inspired me to write and express ideas that can only be perfected in words. However, this particular evangelical preacher (whose name I find unnecessary to mention because I want to focus on his message more than his identity) has also been a particular influence. It was only in college when liberal ideas started to shape my mindset and made me who I am today and who I might be someday.
But I want to regard the fact that liberalism exists in Christianity. In fact, I take a stand that Christianity, based on Jesus’ teachings, has built its kind of liberal ideas during its earliest time. When religious leaders cast stones on a woman who committed adultery, Jesus defended her (John 8: 6–11). This showed not only Jesus’ stance against the death penalty, but also a shift on how their society at that time viewed women. Another example would be Jesus’ condemnation against excessive financial greed (Matthew 21:12), a reality which religious leaders at that time condoned. Moreover, back during the time when people were divided based on their ethnicity (as it also happens today), Jesus introduced the idea of equality and inclusion, an idea that his believers continued proclaiming years after his death and resurrection (Galatians 3:28).
So, why do I find this particular evangelist’s message problematic?
Let’s start with this statement: “Any sanctimonious quest for racial diversity within the church ignores the biblical reality…”
Does he mean that efforts to bring in people from different racial background into the church –specifically believers of Jesus Christ — contradict the message that Jesus himself preached? What do we make of the Good Samaritan parable then, when Jesus encouraged people to recognize others for their actions and not limit their worth by racial profiling? And if we put that evangelist’s words into historical context, we can’t ignore the fact that many who once proclaimed to be Christians in the age of colonialism (1400s to 1800s) interpreted Christ’s message and preached the essence of Christianity with force, violence, and murder.
History tells us that European settlers who used to acquire land and territories from what are now known as developing countries have weaponized Christianity by putting innocent lives at stake. Do not forget the slave trade when colonial masters used to think that people who come from a particular continent (Africa) are only good in chains. Do not forget the millions of Native Americans who had been hunted down because they didn’t easily yield their land to invaders. Closer to my home, I will never forget the Moros (Muslims in the Philippines) who had been slain in Mindanao after their efforts to reclaim their land from the colonizers (see the tragic and infamous Bud Dajo Massacre).
Unfortunately, it’s racial profiling and the refusal to welcome anyone into the church based on skin color and ethnicity — and even belief system — that perpetuates division. And this division is not just limited to race. Think of the “us” against “them” messages we often hear in sermons. Who’s “us”? The believers who follow Christ’s teachings to judge “them”? Who’s “them”? Those who aren’t part of the church because sermons preach messages of judgement against their lifestyle and culture? Are we sure we’re following the same Lord and Savior who promotes peace and understanding above all else?
And while a part of me thinks that this evangelist may have meant that race refers to humankind as a whole, then why did he bother to bring up the context of diversity in a time when racial issues have become more prevalent and visible? All lives matter, sure. But when records of brutality committed by people in authority point to a specific people whose ethnicity and cultural practices are different from the rest of the citizens, then how can we be certain that all lives do matter when theirs is in danger? If we preach that all lives are truly equal, then why be complicit to the danger and fear experienced by those who do not look, speak, and believe like us? Why even attempt to silence the voices of those who need to be heard most?
This leads me to my next point based on the evangelist’s statement about “biblical reality.” Now this is crucial because the Bible is the source of Christianity’s belief, and the dangers of misinterpreting it would lead to warfare. And we don’t want that to happen, especially when the world is now sick with the pandemic. But when it comes to biblical reality, we consider that God is the ultimate creator. Biblical scholars point out to six days of creation, while scientists explain how the world developed for millions of years. And while both are experts on their field, biblical reality gauges on the belief that everything and everyone is a creation. Since people are part of “everyone”, that means the most basic thing. God made you and me. And if God made people, then who has the right and authority to say that certain people deserve more rights and inclusion than others? Did Jesus separate the listeners in his sermon and gave only loaves and fishes to one group and gave nothing to the other? Did God drown a Hebrew when Moses led them to cross the sea?
If the Bible, especially the New Testament, shows us one claim of exclusion, it would probably have to be when Jesus condemned religious leaders who hid their arrogance by looking pleasant on the outside (Matthew 23:27–28). Maybe it’s not really exclusion but more of a condemnation. But this isn’t to judge people who want to look pleasant on the outside. By all means, go for whatever look you want, but just make sure you don’t judge others because they look differently from you. Also, please wear a mask these days when you go outside because the pandemic is not over yet.
But the point is, equality that is based on the phrase, “every nation of mankind” which the evangelist took from Acts 17:26, exactly means what it says — that God’s love and care is not just limited to particular group of people, but for every nation (and every person thereof). How to measure that love is beyond what I understand. The point I’m trying to raise is that Christianity in its essence does not condone and support division, exclusion, and inequality. It’s the people who misinterpreted the belief system due to their personal agenda that makes the kind of Christianity that we often know today, and statements rooted in this religion, problematic. In contrast, Christians aren’t supposed to draw divisions, but instead support inclusion and safe spaces, just like how Jesus accepted gentiles, tax collectors, the leper, the sick and criminals punishable by death in a time when his society looked down on them.
Here’s the catch about getting disappointed with people who we used to look up to. They may post statements or do actions that we don’t agree with, and sometimes we take their word or deed into context or analyze their intent. But how do we make sense and reconcile with our previous choice of following them? I think no one really has the exact answer to that because nothing is absolute. People change. Systems change. The world changes. And whether or not this change is for the better or the worse, we can only accept the fact that people, unlike ideas associated with them, are flawed. Some know they made their mistakes. Some are unaware of their mistakes. Some are aware of their mistakes but continue to do them because of their convenience or pleasure.
A best-selling children’s author makes controversial statements against the trans community. A national artist subtly supports press persecution. A former bar topnotcher whose score remains unmatched to this day was responsible for imposing martial law that led to the deaths of thousands. A former president whose short reign had abolished slavery once urged African-Americans to return to their continent. An evangelist attempts to overshadow a movement aimed to magnify the sorrows of a minority by sharing a Bible verse with an interpretation that harms more than helps.
That’s why I think we don’t have to necessarily put the people we follow in boxes and group them according to absolutes. People have vast potentials and whether these potentials are used for the good or for the worse, it’s up to them; just as it is up to us if we still follow them or not. It is also up to us what to believe in or what to respond to. But should we consider that phase when we used to get inspired by them a waste of time? If that phase or experience made you a better person — a person who can differentiate what’s right from wrong on the basis of understanding people’s circumstance and situation — with or without your hero or heroine’s validation, what do you think?
