Mike Kelly’s forthcoming book American Lazarus and His Savior explores American Evangelicalism’s vision of Jesus by reexamining what he said and did (and didn’t do) in the Gospels. Below is an excerpt from the first chapter, “Creed, Country, and Confusion.”
But who do you say that I am?
Peter’s famous answer to that question has been repeated by countless saints for thousands of years. So has his ensuing confusion. Flesh and blood didn’t tell Peter that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God, but they still had their say. In a few moments, Peter’s flesh and blood would take Jesus to task for getting his Messiah job wrong and suggest a more popular version of his mission. He wanted Jesus to be Jewish. Of course, Jesus was Jewish. Jesus is still Jewish, but Peter wanted him to be Jewish in the same way he himself was Jewish. Israel needed a Messiah who would fulfill their national, cultural, and religious ideals. As David sang, “Why do the nations conspire in vain against the Lord’s anointed” (Psalm 2.1)?
That’s what American Lazarus wants, too, but it makes a lot more sense for Peter. Jesus was Israel embodied in every way except sin, and Israel’s cultural and religious ideals were forged in the Scripture itself. So, we might want to cut him some slack for reminding the Christ of Israel’s glorious destiny. Jesus, however, did not. He called him Satan and told him to get out of his way. Put in middle school terms, Peter got the fill-in-the-blank part right and blew the explain-your-answer section.
Peter soon learned his Savior’s true mission, but at this point in his story, he had the same problem as American Lazarus. Peter was a nationalist, if not an outright militant, and as those people are apt to do, he confronted Jesus and told him there would be no more talk of rejection and crosses. American Lazarus is mostly just a grumbler, but they both channel the devil, to use Jesus’ word. Peter couldn’t imagine a suffering Christ because he was sure Israel had suffered quite enough already. That’s not American Lazarus’ problem.
The humiliating crucifixion of the Son of God for our sins doesn’t shock us anymore. It would help if we were scandalized by it, but the American Church has convinced us that dying for sins is just what Saviors do. Some American Christians sound like they want Jesus to lead them into battle, but the vast majority just want to know why he hasn’t fixed things yet. To adapt a favorite measure of new Presidents, Jesus’ first one hundred years in office didn’t accomplish much, and the next 1,900 haven’t done a lot better. He could have stopped all the stupid stuff ages ago without hurting anyone and for reasons cataloged throughout this book, American Lazarus is running out of patience.
Of course, a more careful look at Jesus’ teachings and Church history will demonstrate the ignorance, if not the outright arrogance of that complaint, but American Lazarus and his family aren’t careful about how they feel, frankly. Like Peter on that day, we just assume the Savior is committed to our way of life. Peter had some grounds for that, but Jesus wasn’t American. He still isn’t American, and he never will be no matter how hard the American Church tries to assimilate him.
Whatever one thinks of our religious heritage, American Christians of every political stripe, cultural vision, and theological tradition make Jesus a model citizen of their ideal America. That may sound like the trademarked tactic of the Christian Right, but the Christian Left leverages America’s mythology and Christ’s ethic with the same zeal. Neither side would confront Jesus like the Apostle did, but both put the Savior to good use whenever they can. Evoking Jesus’ example is usually done without sinister intent. Most quote Jesus because they respect him. Others truly love him. Either way they’re sure he’d approve of their cause. Twenty-first century liberals and conservatives alike know why Jesus is on their side and have the Bible verses to prove it. But centuries into the American Experiment, careless assumptions do plenty of harm even when sinister intent is absent.
