HTR(13): Jesus is the measure

Tom Holland has pointed out, in a way that has gained quite a bit of social traction, that the West's sense of value, of what is good and bad, right and wrong, is inextinguishably Christian. In particular the idea that care of the vulnerable is a positive good, the inclusion of the excluded – that idea which has been taken to a parodic and idolatrous extreme in our own time – this is something which is Christian in character. It flows from the example of Jesus, both in how he lived and related to people and in how we understand what eventually happened to him. The true King wears a crown of thorns.

What this means is that if we are to understand and navigate our world we are to take Jesus as the measure and guide for what is right and good and holy. Those who resemble Jesus are, to the extent that they do so, sharing in the divine will and purpose, they are 'incarnating the word' in their own lives. In contrast, those whose lives and character stand in contrast to Jesus are to the same extent trapped within the structures of the world, and in so far as they actively embrace the world then they serve the prince of this world (John 12.31).

In what does this 'worldliness' consist? Well, to channel a dozen of my Good Friday sermons, it's like this. Given our human nature, our world functions in large part through reputation. Without the good opinion of others we are in danger of being excluded, and in the primitive conditions within which homo sapiens came to be, exclusion is likely to be fatal. So we are extremely eager to be accepted by our peers. We find acceptance by conforming; in other words, we imitate others. We go along to get along.

More precisely, and perhaps more contentiously, the vessel through which this is done is the ego, which is the socially constructed persona that we deploy in our public interactions. It is the ego which is concerned about our public reputation, and it is the ego which deploys all sorts of psychic resources to preserve a self-image, a trait which is taken to an extreme with narcissistic personality disorder, when the image has consumed the self. For the self is not the ego, we are not our public personae, the ego is only ever – and can only ever be – a part of who we are, and “for what does it profit a man if he gain the whole world but loseth his own soul?”

So we copy each other in order to survive, and we do this because we are afraid of death and those who wield the power of death. These fears give rise to culture, all the ways in which a human community manages the inevitable tensions that flare up between human beings jostling to be in the safest position, where safest is assumed to be most powerful. In what does that 'most powerful' consist? It consists in the management of social approval. Those who can direct the flows of common consent are those who steer the world. They may not be politicians, those with the nominal power. They might be more or less visible 'influencers' who direct the course of events from behind the scenes. In particular, and to use the contemporary idiom, what is most to be feared is to be 'cancelled', to be excluded, to be sent to Coventry, considered to be beyond the pale and so on. So the one who has most power in the world is the one who can accuse. Which is why the enemy is called the satan, which means 'the accuser', 'the adversary' – essentially the prosecuting counsel in a court case saying 'you are bad'.

There is an intimate link between the culture of accusation and the social psychology of the crowd, in that if there are simply two people arguing then there is little direct fear of death as such. Yet as soon as a crowd is involved the sense of mortal fear is triggered in our amygdalae and the pressure to conform can become overwhelming. This is why crowds are considered dangerous to virtue – and it is why when Jesus teaches his disciples to pray he first says 'go into a room by yourself'. It is not a random accident that Jesus ends up as the victim of a mob shouting 'Crucify!' This is a revelation of our fallen human nature, this is the way of the world, this is what shows most clearly the character of the ruler of this world: mob rule, rule by violence and exclusion, fit in or be executed.

So the crucifixion is the revealing of the truth of our world, it is the demonstration of who we are. If that was the end of the story then it would be bleak but harshly realistic: this is the nature of the world, adapt or die. Those who are the key actors in the drama no doubt pride themselves on their realism, their hard-headed, no-nonsense attitudes, 'it is better for one man to die for the people' and so on. The wonder of the resurrection is that it is God saying, 'you think crucifixion is righteous, now see...'

What the life, death and resurrection shows is (for my purposes here) three-fold. The first is that it is a vindication of Jesus himself. It is God quite clearly declaring, most especially to the religious authorities, 'you thought that you were right and Jesus was wrong. No. Jesus was right and you were wrong.' Which is a very happy thought. The second is that in the resurrection death, the last enemy, is overcome. In other words we don't need to be afraid of death any more; so we don't need to be afraid of those who wield the power of death any more; so we don't need to be trapped within the ego-shell of social approval any more; which means that we are set free. Which means the third thing: the ruler of this world has been overthrown, cast down, “I saw Satan fall like lightning” and so on. This is salvation: to recognise that what the world tells us is not the final truth, it may not even be any sort of truth, but that at the heart of creation is a creator calling us ever deeper into life; that we belong here, that we are eternally safe here. That the creator is Christ-like, “God is Christ-like, and in Him is no unChrist-likeness at all” (Michael Ramsey).

To live life in the Holy Spirit is to recognise that all the judgements of this world, whether formal or informal, are temporary and that, most especially, we do not have to defend ourselves from them. That is the role of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is technically the paraclete, the comforter – and to use the legal analogy, just as the accuser is effectively a prosecuting counsel, the paraclete is the defence counsel, whose job is to defend us against those accusations. The gift of the Spirit is to free us from what I call the game of blame and shame. Our position in the social hierarchy has no bearing on our standing before God; indeed to be in a high position in the social hierarchy, to 'win the world' is to place our souls into great peril.

Which means that what we must most avoid is entanglements in what I call the satanic dynamic, the strive to dominate in worldly terms, to defend ourselves against the accusation of the world. It is why the paradoxical teachings of Jesus are so important: those who lose their lives will gain them, those who wish to be great must be the servant, take up your cross and follow me. To accept the world, and to accept the world's standards as the measure of success (numbers, power, influence and so on) – is precisely to lose what makes Jesus distinct, unique and salvific. It is a fool's errand.

Jesus is the measure by which we judge and assess the world, the light by which we navigate and discriminate within the world. He is the way, the truth and the life. If we are to resist Islam righteously then we must first understand the nature of Jesus, for it is only if we resist under the authority of Jesus, and in the manner of Jesus, that we can know that we are doing God's will, and not becoming unwitting servants of the enemy.