Answering My Christian Friend, Sort Of

Yesterday she asked this question:

If you were a Christian pastor/priest/church leader, what would you do to help change the negative image of the the church?

There was some conversation about it in her comments section, but the question is still bugging me. I'm not a Christian religious and can't really think like one. But as a non-Christian, I can provide a little insight into what might affect me.

Let me start with the simple notion that if I have (somebody else's) religion shoved at me all the time it creates resentment and a negative atmosphere. I have heard some Christians complaining lately about not being able to freely exercise their religion. But even the most enlightened folks routinely fail to grasp the fact that they keep imposing their religion on folks who don't want it. The Renegade Rebbetzin (Rabbi's wife) said it better than I can. She begins:

I'm going to scream. I've just opened yet another business-related email from someone who knows my husband is a rabbi, and who still managed to express the hope that my family and I enjoyed "a wonderful and happy Easter.

Ok, I'll cut them more slack because some folks just refuse to comprehend that not everyone behaves like they do. But there's more:

This comes on the heels of my having read the following letter on p.30 of the current issue of Parents magazine:

I often visit my daughter's kindergarten class to read books to the children. Is it okay to read a Bible story for Easter if some of the kids in the class are Jewish?

Um - no. It is not okay. You want to read something that explains the meaning behind Easter, in order to educate those who don't celebrate it? Excellent. You have my blessing. But "a Bible story for Easter?" Major "duuuh!"

As I do every year, I wished my Christian friends and neighbors joy and peace as they celebrated their holiday yesterday, and I know they will wish me the same when Pesach (Passover) arrives (they mostly aren't as aware of Purim). And I am relieved to report that they, at least, are aware that as a Jew, Easter means nothing to me, except inasmuch as it's important to them, and they are important to me. But they know I do not believe Jesus of Nazareth was resurrected. For that matter, they know I don't believe he was the messiah, either, nor the son of anyone especially important.

There's more, though. The response by the magazine was almost as irritating, although it started off on the right foot. Here it is:

No. Since there are non-Christian kids in the class, focusing on the religious aspects of Easter could confuse them. [so far, so good] Your best bet is a story about a spring theme, such as baby animals or gardening. [still good - but here comes the kicker:] It might be all right to read a nonreligious story that focuses on cultural customs, such as hiding eggs or the Easter bunny [?!?!?!?] - but check with the teacher first. She probably has a plan for discussing the spring's religious holidays and can tell you whether your Easter story works with her curriculum.

Uh - is it just me, or is the first word in "Easter bunny," um, Easter?? Doesn't that, perhaps, imply that while this particular custom may be nonreligious in nature, it has still, over time, come to be associated with a religious holiday? That holiday being Easter? And as such, it's possible, perhaps, that Jews and other individuals who do not celebrate Easter might also not feel a connection to that particular custom (whatever it is - I don't quite get the Easter bunny), or to the custom that involves hiding Easter eggs? . . .

Valentine's Day is short for Saint Valentine's Day. I do not believe in the holiness of Christian saints. So please, do not decorate my child's Gymboree class with red hearts and cupids, and do not distribute Valentine's Day cards. This just confuses them, and makes them feel uncomfortable and excluded when they are the only ones who don't know what's going on. This is not our holiday and it has no meaning to us.

And for that matter - bear in mind when December comes around that the first part of the word "Christmas" is "Christ." This word means "savior" and is most commonly used to refer to an individual who I, personally, do not believe was anybody's savior. Therefore I do not celebrate his birth.

In truth I feel a lot like she does. How can it possibly be so difficult to understand these simple concept? In fact I don't think it is difficult. I think these folks get it on some level but just don't want the answer they are getting. It's like the husband who fails to 'notice' that the trash needs to be taken out. Part of him forgets, or fails to notice, but part of him likes things just the way they are.

But it's time to talk about harder things, things that RR articulates so well. There is a lot of history to overcome, especially with regard to Jews. Muslims seem to be developing quite a history as well, although I'm not comfortable speaking for them. Listen to the Rabbi's wife, a good and kindly woman.

And if, for some reason, I were to be forced to form an opinion on the matter, I would let you know that the only personal meaning that this person's birth holds for me is that his birth, and the mythologies surrounding his death, resulted in the cold-blooded murders of untold numbers of my brethren, including individuals from whom I and my immediate family are directly descended.

In other words: Jesus of Nazareth may be your "son of God," but to me he is suffering and death. The suffering and death of my family members who were butchered in his name.

Folks in the present may argue that this doesn't happen today (although it does), that they aren't responsible (which is no doubt true) but it's a lot like slavery in the US and many other historical travesties. It takes more than a couple of decades to get over what has happened in the past, to get past the fear that it is around the next corner.

One of the kindest, most gentle people I know is a woman with a tattoo on her arm who spent her adolescence in Auschwitz. She is quite old now, but she remembers the most recent wave of butchery for many of us. Never forget, she reminds us.

If Christians want to change how people like me view them, they have to be more like Jesus. Gentle and soft-spoken, reaching out a hand instead of shoving, offering to walk beside me instead of rushing ahead and demanding that I keep up. There has to be room for dialogue, conversation that allows me to question without being branded as some modern-day version of a heretic.

I'm not finished but I'm going to stop now, because I am too sad to have the will to continue.