Recently it was my privilege to preside over a funeral for a stranger who didn't attend church, and never really talked about spiritual matters much.
Usually when I'm asked to do these types of funerals there is a embarrassed background, often unspoken, mostly just hinted at, that the person I'm burying was basically good, not religious, but a good person. It's as if folks are trying to check in and see whether or not I might say, "Oh God, have mercy on this sinful wrecked soul, release him from the fire pits of Hell that he so worthily deserves." Or something of that nature. It's as if folks are worried that I might articulate the logical implication of the media preacher's version of Christianity: that all are born sinners who fail to measure up to God's standards and therefore are only worthy of God's anger and wrath.
But I wonder. Do folks really, actually, truly believe that our Creator would torture us forever and ever just because we couldn't stomach going to church, or affirm a litmus test of dogmas that are often incomprehensible? Are we really that unreflective about ultimate matters? If so, no wonder that, on everyday matters, we've become a nation that can wantonly invade and slaughter other nations, torture at will, target people of color, and turn away from our own citizens in their time of need of health care, housing or a job. Folks who unreflectively affirm the demonic cruelty of God will inevitably start to unreflectively live in that image. It will all seem so perfectly normal.
But what if we started affirming that life is born under an original blessing, not an original sin? What if we understood that our life is a journey of discovering our affectionate connection with each other? What if it dawned on us that living inside our bodies is a fun-filled adventure? How might such thinking heal our fears, calm our anxieties, and turn us toward creation as a gift to be shared, rather than treasure to be hoarded? How might such religion tame the violent, selfish frenzy of our current politics?
Now, more than ever, we Christian preachers need to take Jesus off the Cross and let him rise into resurrection. It is never the violence of empire that has the centering or final word. Rather, it is always the amazing surprise of solidarity, redemption, and renewal, it is the embodied creation of all things made new that becomes the guiding image of hope. For indeed, what we image we become.
And just in case you were wondering, that guy in the grave, we welcomed him with thanksgiving into the eternal community of God complete with all us sinners and saints. It just seemed so perfectly normal.