Politically Correct

The disciples had said the right thing; their confession would last for generations as one of the great affirmations of all times. In response to Jesus' question, "Who do you [disciples] say that I am?, Peter proudly stated: "The Messiah of God." (Luke 9:20). It was the right thing to say; Jesus was pronounced "The Anointed of God." Jesus was the special man who would fulfill Israel's sagging hopes. There is no question that Peter and the rest of the disciples meant every word of it too. But in a few days the right thing was not politically correct. To avoid disgrace and misery in the face of the community, this same Peter denied associating with Jesus, and did so with oaths. It was one thing to confess Jesus in the small company of like-minded people, quite another to confess him in the company of angry unbelievers.

I am not one of those people who likes to beat up on Peter, who would later become one of the greatest apostles in the history of the Church. It is an easy triumphalism to insinuate that if "we" were there, warming our hands by the fire outside the judgment hall, "we" would have done better than this fisherman turned disciple. Neither am I excusing Peter's ready willingness to flee rather than fight under pressure. Tradition says that he would later be crucified upside down rather than deny his Lord, and that tells me something happened to him that a thousand threats could not undo. At the same time, Peter's actions that troubled night sound all too familiar at the beginning of the twenty-first century.

I do not know a single social critic who thinks the Church in America is strong and prophetic. I would be happy to read the work of such a person. Rather I read that the Church is weak, hesitant, and self-protecting. This is not to say there are no isolated examples of ecclesiastical self-forgetfulness and daring, of those eager to identify with the needs of the marginalized. I am sure there are many Christians pleasing to God, women and men, children too, who are tiny incarnations of Jesus' spirit and love. These are the kinds of people who inspire and challenge me to greater self-denial and cross-bearing.

As a very young Christian I read the lives of people who seemed to live "on the edge" of faith. By that I mean they seemed, at least in books, to be willing to risk all in their service to Christ. Some of these people served in overseas missions, some in the inner city, others as laypersons whose faith in God was unmixed, straightforward. I have known people like these, Christians whose overriding joy was love for God and who were unashamed in their simple and direct witness to their faith. Very often their faith was innocent, uncluttered with the cynicism and doubt that characterize many in Christian ministries. Too often though, their examples have been more admired than copied. My own seminary studies often revealed a tendency among clergy to favor head over heart, critical studies over prayer and silence.

Political correctness can be deadly, fostering favoritism and manipulation. Political correctness can substitute unthinking alliance for creeds, a herd mentality instead of shared convictions. The antidote to political correctness is not revolt but submission to Christ, not anger but humility, not blind following but Christ's love for others.

Jerry Mercer