This man is either nothing, or he is everything. Which is it?
In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis takes issue with those who hold the moral teachings of Jesus in great esteem while leaving to one side his more challenging and audacious claims. They are those who derive universal principles about forgiveness, “doing unto others”, and compassionate acts of kindness from Jesus’ preaching, yet politely sidestep all that awkward stuff about how he is the Son of God who will rise from the dead.
For Lewis, anyone who encounters the fact of Jesus’ life has only one of two options: acceptance or rejection. There is a hard binary of yes or no, of exclaiming either “I believe, help thou my unbelief” or “crucify him!”. This is a black or white choice with no shades of grey in between. Yes, Jesus might have given forth some exquisite and beautiful moral teachings that don’t leave many people unmoved. But he also said a lot of things which, if they are not true, meant he should’ve been immediately committed to an ancient psychiatric ward for his own safety.
Surely, “all those celebrating” should take its place alongside “diversity is our strength”
You cannot be so disturbed as wrongly to think you are the incarnation of God while at the same time having the sort of insight that grants profound and perennial spiritual wisdom. Messianic delusions discredit everything else a person says. Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. He is either a dangerously deluded madman, or he really is the Son of God. Which is it?
The question for every believer and every non-believer has thus remained the same ever since Jesus first appeared in Galilee and asked, “Who do you say that I am?”. Then, as now, many people decided he was deluded and irrelevant, and must therefore be cancelled.
In the current year, for example, the No. 10 Press Office wished a Happy Vaisakhi, a Happy Mahavir Jayanti, and Shubho Noboborsho to Napalis, Jains, and Bengalis respectively during Holy Week, while completely ignoring the liturgical and devotional centre of the Christian year. Meanwhile, a Hampshire primary school headteacher cancelled the Easter Bonnet parade so as not to upset followers of other religions during Refugee Week. English Heritage published a childrens’ information booklet with misinformation about Easter having pagan roots.
A more sinister counterpoint to the cancelling of Easter can be seen in Sadiq Khan’s 2024 Easter message: “As families and communities come together today, I want to take this opportunity to wish all those celebrating a very happy Easter”, it began.
Surely, “all those celebrating” should take its place alongside “diversity is our strength” and talking about “communities” in the plural, as among today’s most telling linguistic constructions. Until very recently, it would’ve seemed very odd to offer good wishes to those celebrating something you don’t believe to be true. Celebrations are something shared. When a child is born you do not send congratulations to “all those celebrating” as if you separate those who feel joy and gratitude at the arrival of a newborn baby and those who do not.
Kahn goes on, Easter is “a moment of hope and renewal, and a time to remember that whatever the challenges we face today we will prevail and together enjoy a better tomorrow”. Really? If I remember correctly, many of those who faithfully witnessed the Resurrection of Jesus had a rather difficult time of it, because those who rejected Jesus sought to put them to death, too. There is a better tomorrow for those who accept Jesus, of course, but it isn’t the “we shall overcome” tomorrow of a better life in the here and now. To draw attention to this fact, however, means getting into questions about redemption, heaven, and judgment — questions which are, ultimately, about truth. Ultimate truth claims, again, are usually black or white, yes or no, true or false. Which is it?
Things get more complex when the Mayor commends the “food banks, playgroups and community centres” which “our Christian communities” provide for London, which are “all empowered by the Christian values of love, forgiveness and compassion”. There are (at least) two major issues with this. Firstly, answering that most fearful question — “Who do you say that I am” — in the negative, can be avoided by platitudes recognising the distinct identity of those who answer by saying “I believe”.
Some of Jesus’ own disciples found his claims impossible to stomach, so even they rejected him. Those who remained did so because they accepted everything he said. What those faithful disciples did not do, was ask the others to acknowledge their feelings, respect their identities as Jesus-followers, ensure they are “seen”, or make them feel “included” in a world which ever-rejects the Christ.
Secondly, it’s hardly discrete “projects” like community playgroups which the Christian religion provides for London. The Christian religion provides the irremovable social backdrop to centuries of London’s history, defines the lineaments of the capital’s topography, and indelibly marks the distinct architectural and cultural character that gave birth to London in the first place.
This last point is more well recognised today than it was a few years ago, thankfully. We now even have the phenomenon of people appreciating the civilizational benefits of Christianity without being able themselves to say, “I believe”. Yet, harsh as it may seem, from C. S. Lewis’ viewpoint, such proponents of civilisational Christianity are no different to Sadiq Khan. Both sides cherry-pick the least challenging bits — selecting purportedly sublime civilisational nuggets like human dignity or “values of forgiveness and compassion”, and thinking these can somehow be separated from the decision forced upon us by the brute fact of Jesus’ empty tomb.
Faced with this decision, many people reject Jesus as a deluded madman — that’s always been the case. But the people we really need to watch out for are those who think they can sidestep this decision by saying the cornerstone need not be rejected at all, but can be tidily inserted among all the other diverse stones making up the inclusive temple of modern Britain. To such people the only response should only ever be — this man is either nothing, or he is everything. Which is it?
