Is Christianity Relevant? (or, Why I'm not a Religionist, V)

Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm getting into deep, hot water here.

Saturday afternoon I made my way downtown and headed to the Lied Performing Arts center to watch a production of C.S. Lewis' classic The Screwtape Letters. I was especially keen to watch it since I've read the book more times than I care to count, and I was curious as to how they would adapt it to the stage.

I was not disappointed, and, happily, they left the moral intact. Delivered in monologue form, with some skits here and there to illustrate Screwtape's examples in his letters to his bumbling Junior Tempter nephew, Wormwood, the execution was powerful. I especially liked that they started with the sequel (here performed as a prequel) Screwtape Proposes a Toast, and I thought it worked well.

I had chills running down my spine throughout the play. It reminded me why I read the book at least once a year: I see myself, as in a mirror, when Screwtape mentions how to tempt the human Wormwood has assigned. C.S. Lewis has a knack of finding my tender spots.

I left the play awake. Fully awake. For those not inclined to theatre, the monologue style for 90 minutes was a bit much to follow. Some of the people (yeah, I dropped some eaves . . .) said they fell asleep at parts. I could not understand why . . . at least for the time being. The play, to me, drove a point home: I am a filthy sinner, and there is a very real and vivid, intense battle happening right here, right now, for my soul. And it's all up to me, the outcome.

Leaving the Lied Center, I overheard more conversations critiquing how well the play stuck to the source material or maybe discontent with the delivery style. Yet I didn't hear anyone assessing the effect it had on them, as an individual.

The friends I rode with stopped at Starbucks before heading back to campus. I was not in the mood for Starbucks, though. I sat at a table and pondered more. Then, I opened the program and a review for Screwtape Letters from a New York production jumped out at me.

The title said, "Is Christianity Alienating?" I read.

When I finished, I understood why people fell asleep, or why the production itself was what was being critiqued.

Christianity sounds, to be frank (and in the fairest, nicest way possible), bizarre. As the article put it, "Christianity is something for bible-thumpers and right-wing conservatives—something that we are predisposed to mock rather than venerate." I realized then that I was a part of a movement that is losing its relevancy.

Being a believer is now more closely associated with being a "Belieber" (I probably slaughtered the spelling), and church attendance among my age is dropping--quick. One friend in High School told me, "I don't like the idea of relying on someone, something, I know nothing about. I'm far too independent for that." I didn't know how to answer. The pre-cooked answer is "He'll take your burdens!" or "He's been there before, you can trust Him!" How could my friend, and those who don't relate with the book, trust in someone, something, they haven't experience? Much less the "bad" force portrayed in the story!

Hold on, before you lynch me. It's not losing its relevancy because of the message, rather because we have forgotten how to spread it. Christianity is alienating simply because we make it so. When we talk about it (when we're brave enough), we make it sound distant, proper, strict, and rather mystical. More like a cult than a movement. Instead, we should portray it as Jesus did: practically.

Everything Jesus taught has a practical application. It's when we become Pharisees and make rules that take the practicality out of worship for the sake of keeping worship "pure" (and what does that mean, anyway?) that we turn Christianity irrelevant, alienating: open to the select few, an elite club of insiders.

By living out the message I carry I can assure its relevancy. This works in all phases of life (i.e., practical). For example, when a candidate runs for office, they are expected to practice what they are promising the citizenry. As a journalist, I am expected to keep the audience's trust by being trustworthy myself. Giving myself ten thousand rules and regulations as to how to make, manipulate, the audience trust me is worthless if I do not try to become trustworthy.

So what do I say to my friend? How do I make the sleepy theatre patrons question how Screwtape impacts their own life?

In the book, Screwtape advises Wormwood to use the human's acquaintances and friends he surrounds himself with against himself. In other words, poor company makes for great opportunity, Wormwood! But, if the human surrounds himself with the right people . . . it's all over.

Why not I be the right person? Why not I be the Love the Jesus was every day on His life here on Earth? That is what drew people to Him (as opposed to alienating them): His lifestyle was a practical experience in Love.