I spent this morning getting ready for Sunday in YWBC, when
we’ll be carrying on our series on the Sermon on the Mount with a reflection on
Matthew 5:13-16, Jesus’ famous words on the role of the church, to be ‘the salt
of the earth’ and ‘the light of the world.’
As I’ve mulled over the passage, a question has occurred to
me which we might want to think of ahead of Sunday: is be better to be
deliberately different to others, or does being salt and light mean we model a
lifestyle which is a redeemed and more attractive version of what everyone else
is doing?
My reason for posing this question arises from time checking
out the website of Sorted, which
makes the claim to be ‘The UK’s Only Christian Magazine for Men.’
At this point, it’s probably only right to declare my
prejudices ahead of browsing the site. I’ve had one or two bad experiences of
men’s Christian gatherings. I realise they’re very helpful to some chaps, but
my abiding memory of Mandate in Belfast several years ago was a lecture from a
retired US Army General who didn’t actually tell us all to ‘man up’ even if
that was the gist of his message. Think of Robert de Niro from Meet the Parents in a pulpit and you’ll
get a picture of what I’m talking about. I’ve decided I like a mixture of
testosterone and oestrogen in church, I’m not ‘wild at heart’ and I’ve never
been able to share the angst of those who feel the church is somehow
overly-feminised.
Perhaps because of that, I came to Sorted in particular need of convincing. But I didn’t expect to be
so taken aback by the way in which it’s so obviously in thrall to our culture’s
idea of what it means to be successful and a proper man. Can someone explain to
me the redemptive nature of articles like ‘the ultimate guide to cool winter
coats’ or a review of the latest smartphones?
The underlying message is clear – to be a credible witness
means we need the latest gadgets, clothing, and a body that we wouldn’t be
ashamed of at the gym? But in the Sermon on the Mount, doesn’t Jesus go on to
say that it’s ‘the Gentiles who strive for all these things,’ before calling us
to ‘strive first for the Kingdom of God’? How can we ever redeem shallow
notions of what it means to be successful or masculine, if we’re so obsessed
with our need to somehow prove ourselves as being capable of reaching those
standards ourselves?
This isn’t call for all of us to live like Amish
communities, trading in our cars for horses and carriages. But there are
serious grounds for concern here. Five years on from a financial meltdown of global
proportions, having chased the idols of credit and conspicuous consumption,
lots of people in our country face the prospect of struggling on, either unemployed,
underemployed or overworked. When so many are asking big questions about the
sustainability of our current economic mode, are we really being salt and light
if our message is simply that you too can have Jesus, an iPhone and a great six
pack?
