I’ve not
posted much in recent months, a combination of busyness and waiting for an
issue to arise that I feel strongly enough about to write. But a few days ago, I
read Mark Driscoll’s post, ‘Is God a Pacifist?’ where he explains distinctions
between killing and murdering, before coming to the conclusion that the coming
of the kingdom ‘is only possible if an
all-powerful, benevolent Authority vanquishes his enemies. In other words, the
Prince of Peace is not a pacifist.’
Greg Boyd has already provided a response to Driscoll which is
more articulate and cogent than anything I could produce. Leaving aside
Driscoll’s failure to acknowledge than the vanquishing he speaks of is actually
achieved through the non-retaliation that takes Jesus to the cross, where he
disarms the rulers and authorities and triumphs over them, his article has also
got me thinking about the sort of language which is appropriate for us to use
when we talk about Jesus.
The line which stood out most to me in Driscoll’s article, and which has
been disturbing me ever since, is the statement that, ‘Jesus is not a pansy or
a pacifist.’ Maybe my perspective is skewed by the three years I spent at
Junior High School as a prime target for bullying (in case you’re wondering I
wasn’t a pansy, I was the school swot instead, and I’m still getting over the
scarring that comes from a sustained period wearing 1980s style NHS children’s
glasses). But since when has it been acceptable to use the word ‘pansy’ when
talking about Jesus? I’m not just angered by the thinly-veiled homophobia, but
rather the bigger implication than anything which smacks of being gentle,
sympathetic or kind-hearted isn’t somehow tough or impressive enough to keep up
with people’s expectations of all action hero figure God. Are there any other
clarifications we need to offer about Jesus: that he wasn’t a namby-pamby or a
goody-two-shoes?
I know that
I write from the perspective of a European with a humanities degree (it appears
from later in his article that these are two further attributes which could
earn someone the dis-approval of Driscoll). But can there ever be any place for
this sort of vocabulary when we speak of Jesus? To me it betrays the insecurity
of the playground intimidator, who doesn’t like what he sees when he comes
face-to-face with the ways in which God has worked to bring in his new kingdom,
a disappointment that God has revealed himself to be different from the tough
guys who are celebrated by our culture.
Earlier this
week, David Cameron was rebuked in the Commons for his use of the phrase ‘con-man’in relation to Ed Miliband. It wasn’t the first time this sort of thing has
happened to our Prime Minister. Under pressure, he has a tendency to hit out
with disdain, but these moments stay with us, the use of language which reveals
our true colours to others. All of which goes to underline the need for each of
us to use such care and precision in the words we use to talk about God, and
in our relating to each other.
