On Justice Sunday and losing my religion

I’ll begin with an admission: No, I didn’t watch “Justice Sunday III” over the weekend. I don’t quite get the whole politics/religion/judiciary mashup that’s the newest craze among all the hip Christians. I saw clips of the event, read a bunch of recaps (both online and in print) — and, well, it just seemed sort of a depressing event.

Everyone was so angry. Angry at “activist judges.” Angry at proponents of gay marriage, at the protesters outside, at whoever seemed to oppose their view of the world. Not that the protesters outside were any less angry, but, well, they’re protesters. They’re supposed to be angry and annoying and make stupid signs to get on television. The clips I caught were the angriest I had ever seen anyone in a church, even angrier than the priest who was trying to get we seventh grade alter servers to practice to serve the Confirmation mass. (We, of course, paid little attention, being seventh grade boys.)

Check out this quote from the Rev. Herb Lusk, the head of the Greater Exodus Baptist Church, where the event was held. A person I know who covered the Eagles in the 1970s says he was a very nice man, and I’m sure he is, but, well, come on: “My brothers and sisters, I will not go down without a fight! Be careful how you fool with the church! Don’t fool with the church because the church has buried many critics. All the critics we have not buried, we’re making funeral arrangements for!”

Pardon my language, but Jesus Christ.

I was raised Catholic. I went to 12 years of Catholic school, grew up in a very Catholic neighborhood in Northeast Philly, was an altar boy and went to mass on Sundays and holy days. I even taught first grade Sunday school during my junior and senior years of high school. (The kids called me “Mr. Dan.”)

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve slid into the habits of any other twentysomething who went to 12 years of Catholic school and has moved out into the real world. Meaning: I don’t know how I feel anymore. I don’t always go to church. (Sorry, mom.) I haven’t been to confession in forever. But every time I do attend mass, I feel like I’ve done something wrong. Maybe I have; I probably missed mass the week before, so, you know, mortal sin and all. But most of the sermons when I do go aren’t about being a good person or facing temptation to do wrong; they seem to mainly whining about why it’s so hard to be a Christian today in America and why nobody goes to church anymore. It’s like the Catholic church has fallen in step with all the other right wingers simply because they share a hatred of gays and abortion and liberals. (Not that this is the Catholic church’s biggest problem, of course, especially in this city. But, oh, you’re right, Mr. Santorum, that’s the liberals’ fault, too.)

Religion isn’t for everyone. But, when I was little, I thought we were taught a little more about being good, kind people than worrying about whether two dudes want to enter a legally binding agreement to be together forever, or whether an “activist judge” is going to allow women to get birth control. I know that people are going to be, well, people, but aren’t men of the cloth supposed to be above this kind of bitchiness? (Not to mention that Christians claiming persecutions from the secular world is kind of ridiculous.)

Martin Luther King Jr. — and, yes, his neice Alveda King was present at Justice Sunday III — once said that “any religion that professes to be concerned with the souls of men and is not concerned with the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them, and the social conditions that cripple them is a dry-as-dust religion.” And I think sometimes we just need to throw out the old stuff — like, say, really worrying about whether a two women hook up — and just focus on injustice more. Worrying about someone’s soul is nice, great; but doesn’t it to more work to fight against homelessness than lecture homeless people about not fornicating?

Not that church groups don’t work to fight injustice (they certainly do) but it seems like that’s taken a back seat to right wing politics. I don’t mean it’s every church, or every religious person, but, well, the mainstream image of religious people today is Pat Robertson claiming a direct link with the big guy upstairs or the Pope — who I’m sure is a very friendly, nice man — telling Africans they shouldn’t use condoms to prevent HIV because God doesn’t like that. Or, you know, the Rev. Herb Lusk saying how the church is going to bury you if you disagree with them.

And really, I think that’s sad.

Click here for the essay archive