Various Threads, Tied Together...

This year I got a little behind on my National Geographic reading, so I've been slowly catching up. Last month I read the December 2007 issue, which had a story about Bethlehem. Israel has built a massive wall around three sides of it, strictly guarded to protect Jerusalem from terrorist attack. The Christians inside Bethlehem have been systematically moving away, as they no longer feel safe. And just outside the city where Jesus was born, refugees find that there is no room for them - but these refugees are Muslim. Hatred breeds in the Holy Land on top of the cave where Love was born incarnate.

A few months later, someone responded to this article in the letter section of the magazine with: "Perhaps it is not money, but religion that is the root of all evil. Thank God I am an atheist!"

The snarky part of me wants to point out to this person that atheistic societies and governments tend to be at least as oppressive, corrupt, and violent as religiously led nations, and the same is likely true for individuals.

Then, I thought, perhaps this person is on to something - with a caveat. The letter-writer makes a common misquote of 1 Timothy 6:10, which says "the love of money is the root of all evil." Money itself is spiritually neutral - how you feel about it is not.

So with the correct phrasing in hand, is the love of religion the root of all evil? What's the difference between the love of religion and the love of God? That's the question that the Old Testament prophets sought to answer. It's a question the apostle Paul apparently spent some time sorting out. And it's the question at the heart of death of Christ.

One of the most revealing passages about the enemies of Jesus is John 11:4-50: "Therefore the chief priests and the Pharisees convened a council, and were saying, 'What are we doing? For this man is performing many signs. If we let him go one like this, all men will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away our place (i.e. the temple) and our nation.' But a certain one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, 'You know nothing at all, nor do you take into account that it is expedient that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish."

Brennan Manning comments on this passage in The Ragamuffin Gospel: "A terrible thing has happened to Caiaphas. Religion has left the realm of respect for person. For Caiaphas sacredness has become institutions, structures, and abstractions. He is dedicated to the people, so individual flesh and blood men are expendable. Caiaphas is dedicated to the nation. But the nation does not bleed like Jesus. Caiaphas is dedicated to the Temple - impersonal brick and mortar. Caiaphas became impersonal himself, no longer a warm human being but a robot, as fixed and rigid as his unchanging world.

The choice usually presented to Christians is not between Jesus and Barabbas. No one wants to appear an obvious murderer. The choice to be careful about is between Jesus and Caiaphas. And Caiaphas can fool us. He is a very 'religious' man.

The way we are with each other is the truest test of our faith. How I treat a brother and sister from day to day, how I react to the sin-scarred wino on the street, how I respond to interruptions from people I dislike, how I deal with normal people in their normal confusion on a normal day may be a better indication of my reverence for life than the antiabortion sticker on the bumper of my car."