Still running short of material, so once again here’s yesterday’s column from the Examiner.
Playing the Jesus card
In the business world, playing the boss card is a phrase used in a sardonic fashion to indicate decisions being made on the basis of rank alone as opposed to logic and reason. It’s the professional version of “because I said so, that’s why” commonly used by exasperated parents as the final word to cranky children inquiring about the rationale behind an unpopular decision. The difference between the two is parents generally use their version of the expression as a means of cutting off fruitless attempts at defining decisions and the thought process behind them to a six year old none too keen on structured debate above and beyond repeated use of the word “why.” The boss? They’re the boss and that’s that.
In the day to day, different versions of the boss card are commonly dealt. One is the Jesus card.
The Jesus card is related to the “what would Jesus do” fad of a few years ago. More often than not it’s a gambit played against others as a method of deflecting criticism of oneself and the actions — or lack of action — thereof. Employed in the spirit of a general who in the heat of battle commented, “Our center is crumbling? Our flanks are routed? Very well then. Let us attack!”, the card comes out in belief that the best defense is a good offense. “What am I doing? Why, the Lord’s work! The Lord’s will! I’m imitating Christ! Don’t question me!”
Sure.
It’s natural to try and defend personal behavior. Sometimes we drag Jesus into it. No, I’m not being judgmental; I’m repeating His words about sin and eternity. No, I’m not partying my brains out; haven’t you read where He commented on being criticized by the Pharisees for eating and drinking and hanging out with publicans and sinners? Be it pinched-in hyperfundamentalism swinging the sword of the Lord at every believer not toeing the party line or brain-leaking liberalism preaching saccharine in lieu of salvation as a means of justifying their dynamic inaction while talking a good game, playing the Jesus card is often the first line of defense against the harsh light of…
… what Jesus said and did.
The imitation of Christ is not subject to our pet theorems. His way was often unpredictable. The same Jesus Who turned water into wine at a wedding reception to keep the party going physically drove out the merchants from the temple. The same Jesus Who commanded His followers to love one another and forgive their enemies also unequivocally stated hell wasn’t a scare tactic. The same Jesus Who said follow Him for His burden is easy and His yoke light also said pick up your cross and follow Him. Christ’s message and life while on this earth was salt and sweet, light and dark. He understands the human condition and contradiction.
Ultimate care should always be taken when playing the Jesus card. A reminder to others should always be a reminder to ourselves as well. The full spectrum of Christ’s message cannot be codified into our neat little categorizations of mentioning what we wish to mention while genteelly ignoring whatever refuses to fit. We’re not the boss here. We’re not the parent. We are the disciples. All of us.
Cards are printed on paper made from wood. The only Jesus card worth anything is the one made from blood-soaked wood, held by a nail-pierced hand. It’s the one that reads “I love you.” Printed on the cross that forever testifies “I said so.”
