Tosa Rector

The some time random but (mostly) theological offerings of a chatty preacher learning to use his words in a different medium.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

The Martyrs of Uganda and the Jesus of Suburbia

Today the Episcopal Church remembers thirty-two young men, who, in 1886, were burned to death by the King of Uganda for their refusal to renounce the Christian faith. The king who instigated their deaths intended to send a message -- follow the Way of Jesus and die. Ironically, the deaths of these men didn't squelch the spread of Christianity, but instead fueled a Gospel fire that blazed ferociously throughout the country as more and more people were converted and baptized.

There was something in the way these witnesses met their deaths that captured the hearts of their fellow citizens. Rather than begging for mercy or wailing at their fate, these men faced their deaths singing hymns, clapping their hands and praising God. They could have renounced their Faith and lived -- but for these followers of the Way, the only life worth living was a life lived in integrity.  They were faithful to the very end.

Contrast these witnesses in 19th century Uganda with a description of the followers of the "Jesus of Surbubia" (from a book of the same title by Mike Erre): 

"What keeps us from a life of faith is that we have become very good at assessing and minimizing risk. Our culture is all about risk management. We want to hedge our finances against future market downturns, and we have home insurance, life insurance, car insurance, fire insurance, flood insurance...We have become people who focus on managing and minimizing risk everywhere we can see it...We want Jesus to be the same way: all reward and no risk...We want the illusion of faith as long as we are safe...This is one of the reasons we settle for the mundane Jesus of Suburbia; he is predictable and safe." (pp. 34-35)

I'm writing this blog post from the comfort of a climate-controlled house, looking out on a street lined with perfectly manicured lawns, each with its own immaculately maintained house perched perfectly upon it. I sit across the parking lot from a fastidiously maintained building that is set apart for the faithful to gather in comfort from Sunday to Sunday for a brief liturgical respite from the rigors of day-to-day living -- topped off with appetizing refreshments. 

Christians in the "wilds of Wauwatosa" will likely not have to choose loyalties. Our lives aren't in danger because of our religion -- and our religion poses no threat to our every day lives either. 

O God, by whose providence the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church: Grant that we who remember before you the blessed martyrs of Uganda, may, like them, be steadfast in our faith in Jesus Christ, to whom they gave obedience, even unto death, and by their sacrifice brought forth a plentiful harvest; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

2 Comments:

Blogger Dr. KNS said...

I was listening to the BBC recently when they did a spot about how "average Americans" were dealing with the recession. They interviewed some couple in McMansion-suburban-Atlanta:guy had already lost his job, gal was about to lose hers. Summary of their response:"Oh no, we're not angry about it. America is still the land of opportunity." Brain-dead.

Umm, no, for far too many people, America is a theatre of obscene violence, both physical and economic. And I include violence under the aegis of the state in that. There is a responsibility for all of us, whether we follow the Jesus of Suburbia or the Jesus of the Piedmont Countryside, to engage with a theology of resistance to that violence. Yes, it can be risky...but I know from my own experience that there is a wildly radical grace that comes with taking those risks. "No" is such a small word, but it can still trigger an earthquake.

12:41 AM  
Blogger Dr. KNS said...

PS Honestly, your post reminded me so much of this poem that I wanted to repost it here, in the hopes that someone other than me and thee read these comment threads:

Manifesto:
The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

1:04 AM  

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