September 30th is International Blasphemy Day - is that something for Christians to celebrate? Established a decade ago, "International Blasphemy Day encourages individuals and groups to openly express criticism of religion and blasphemy laws." Organiser Ronald Lindsay says, "We think religious beliefs should be subject to examination and criticism just as political beliefs are, but we have a taboo on religion."
There are a few good reasons why criticising religion is a fair and sensible thing to do: the tendency of religions to get caught up in sanctioning violence and oppressive actions of all kinds; the very noticeable gap between some religious people’s stated beliefs and actual practice when it comes to promoting peace and reconciliation, care for the planet, for the poorest and most vulnerable, and in practicing loving one’s enemy.
Some may disagree but I’d say that the examination and criticism of religion is at the heart of Christianity, as practiced by its founder. In the gospels we find Jesus repeatedly challenging the complaints and weasel-words of the leaders of a repressive religious system. He’s our Blasphemer-in-Chief: blasphemy was, after all, the charge they devised for his execution.
Self-examination is at the heart of Christian practice: that’s why church services include a confession, a chance to spill out all that troubles our hearts and by God’s grace, start again. And if we’re following Jesus faithfully then we’ll find ourselves in the business of pushing at the edges of our religion to let the light in (as he did, breaking the rules by healing on the Sabbath, breaking taboos by touching lepers).
But there is a world of difference between open-handed "examination and criticism" and hate speech. Some countries’ blasphemy laws do not criminalise "speech that expresses critique," but do sanction "speech that insults." International Blasphemy Day promotes scepticism: "a healthy habit of mind that welcomes and analyses new ideas" as part of "the quest for a more reasonable world." But problems arise when people - religious and secular alike - become closed to anything or anyone new or different, and will literally fight to ‘defend’ the world as they want it to be. So, it may be reasonable to question the clothes worn by certain religious groups (why is the vicar wearing a dress? I often wonder); it’s quite another thing to aggressively rip the veil off a young woman on a Yorkshire street. There’s a fine line between being objectively critical and being disparaging, and it is an unavoidable truth that whenever a public figure crosses it, bullying and violence results.
In a recent sermon on how we should speak ‘Christianly’ I quoted Barack Obama: "My faith is one that admits some doubt, that says that I believe in Jesus Christ and I believe in God, but I also recognise I may not always be right, that God doesn't speak to me alone, and that the only way that I could live effectively with people who have different beliefs and different faiths is if we have a civil society that is, in fact, civil."
What Jesus brings to "the quest for a more reasonable world" are the starting points of humility: "Judge not, so you will not be judged;" and self-examination: "He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her." If you’re spoiling for a fight, these are blasphemous words.
There are countless books critiquing Christian mission's historic complicity in the impositions of colonial empire; and other more recent writings bringing that critique into the present day, redefining empire as neoliberalism's global reach. Ryan Kuja follows this pattern, using the terms McMission and 'empire lite' in discussing North American Christianity's embrace of the prevailing culture and the sometimes subtle ways this works its way into missionary and aid projects.
But Ryan Kuja goes beyond the usual parameters of these familiar arguments in seeking a way to reimagine mission, to create a world where the distance between missionary and those on the receiving end of mission, is diminished. Daring to suggest that the missionary themselves may be the one in most need of healing, of receiving good news, Kuja meditates in the area of the missionary's motivation for doing mission: raising uncomfortable questions for the sake of liberating wholeness.
What secures the reader's attention and provokes an empathic response is that Kuja shares deeply his own sufferings and denials, and how they played a central part in both shaping his missionary activities and ultimately causing them to burn out in mental breakdown. Kuja is generous in sharing his story for the space it opens up for the reader to interrogate our own stories. Better still, and a constant throughout this engaging book, he celebrates how a God who is always making things new, finds a way for re-creation in all our stories.
"I glimpse a promise that despite the presence of brokenness, disease, and death, all things are being reconciled, restored, and reborn." Mission unites us with others with whom we are called to learn this together.
‘Putting away all falsehood, let us speak the truth to our neighbours, for we are members of one another.’ Christian speech is not just neighbourly in a soft way. It is a way of talking about all others which recognises that however different we may be in terms of culture, we are all equally valued and loved, upheld by God. With so many malign, corrupting voices in our ears all the time we need to check our influences constantly, as we train ourselves to learn to talk this way. But what a difference we each make in the world when we do.
...The crowd with its famished craving wants more and more feeding with healings and miracles and food. They want a sign like the manna in the wilderness to keep them fed until the hunger rises again. But Jesus wants them to understand that the bread that he gives is the bread that satisfies.
- from my talk today, The bread of life is no fad diet - it’s all the nutrition we’ll ever need.