After the last posts, the little bit of history, and a discourse on our right to life, I’d like now to explore how we, ordinary people, have been influenced down through the centuries to accept the unacceptable. (I will return to this theme in the Chapter on Energy when I attempt to chart the process of how we come to believe myth).
I believe that one of the most difficult things that war mongering conquerers had to do down through the ages – and still have to do – is convince parents, particularly mothers, to be compliant proxies in war, utilising their sons as tools in the killing. (Nowadays of course women can join armies but traditionally the vast majority of people who kill and were/are killed in battles are men – almost always at an immature impressionable age).
In order to convince a mother that her child’s right to life was lower than the right of the state to send him to his possible death in war she must believe that there is some greater good in the sacrificing of her son in war (even a so-called just war) than in the non-sacrifice of her son, that is, persuading him to stay at home – and alive.
In my view this project required a fairly extensive degree of conditioning, the principal element of which was keeping women powerless, and rendering women’s opinions, and therefore their influence, less important than men’s over many centuries.
I have no idea how mothers who adhere to religious beliefs in the Middle East, Asia and parts of Africa have been conditioned to accept this sacrifice (because, obviously, judging by the history of those parts of the world, they have) but a very powerful archetype in the Christian world is the willingness of Mary, the mother of Jesus, to accept that she had to give up her only son to a greater cause – to save the rest of humankind. This is a very powerful Christian message and I do not know enough about other religions to know whether or not it, or an equivalent, exists as part of them.
And while in a general way I have a strong belief in most of the messages of the Gospels the mother-must-sacrifice-her-son story seems, for the military industrial complex (which will be referred to again later in this Chapter) almost too good to be true.
Jesus was a radical change agent and posed a significant threat to the establishment of the time. Was the story of his untimely, violent death with his mother accepting the will of God doctored to suit vested interests that did not have justice, peace and non-violence as their central aim? And is it not ironic that Jesus (or his equivalent – God) has been invoked down through the centuries to support the very kind of establishment that wanted rid of him?
Another depowering symbol in the Gospel might be the sheep. This (generally portrayed to be humble) animal is surely one of the most referenced in the New Testament.
The hymn, ‘The Lord Is My Shepherd – I shall not want’ implies that God cares for us ordinary mortals, who, obviously, have the status of sheep. The psalm has beauty and invokes warmth and love but the reason that it interests me is that sheep are generally thought to be very meek and compliant animals.
In fact, the writers could hardly have picked a more submissive image than the sheep, who always seems a little worried and anxious. Sheep also have an image of being gentle, calm, a little serene, and trusting; and lambs are among the most appealing of young animals.
But the overall meekness symbolism is striking. Like the image of the mother making the ultimate sacrifice does it set us up to be, well, a little bit too controllable, and – if we allow ourselves – to be manipulated?
Even our expression that describes being duped into doing something we don’t want to do – like lambs to the slaughter, which itself comes from the Old Testament – is interesting!
The Gospel also encourages us – if we are hit on the cheek – to offer the person who hit us the other cheek, implying that we are okay with him hitting that one too. I have never met any person who actually does this. And, looking around me, I observe the entire world of many billions of humans who are born into Christianity and who claim to follow the teachings of Christ to be built on the belief that, if someone hits us – well – we hit him back. A more humane, and probably progressive and modern belief might be that, if someone hits us, we make ourselves safe, forgive him, and, perhaps, let go – but crucially – make ourselves safe.
To actually offer a second cheek to invite further punishment goes against all modern child protection and safety of vulnerable persons practices – and also flies in the face of ordinary common sense.
Once again, there is such strong parallel between turning the other cheek and the domination of poor and powerless people by their lords and masters that it is impossible to ignore.
All Christians will be familiar with monikers such as Christ the King, the Kingdom of God etc. – such terminology is used a lot in the Gospel. From my knowledge of Jesus’ life and teachings I don’t think that he wanted to be associated with royalty – in fact his Sermon on the Mount promoted the opposite of the disingenuous room values that I mentioned here that originally gave rise to, and then perpetuated (and still perpetuates) the injustice that sustains royalty, and which, of course, preceded Christianity.
It is interesting that over 2,000 years of history – because, once again, the Gospel is irrefutable – no Christian leaders have questioned the contradiction between the humility promoted in the Sermon on the Mount and Jesus as a royal figure (including pictures of him with a glittering crown on his head – even as a little child) which parallels the imagery used to keep people in their place for countless generations.
Another message from the Gospel that might be interpreted (or manipulated) by powerful people so that harm could be visited on others was the disvaluing of doubt by Jesus. When he arose from the dead his disciple Thomas doubted that he had been dead at all. However Jesus proved that he had been dead by asking Thomas to put his hand in the wound in his heart. In fact, according to the Gospel, Jesus is reported to have said “stop doubting and believe“.
This diminishes Jesus’ leadership skills. After all, good quality leadership allows the gift of doubt – from it may come new directions, truths, or better alternatives. And why did Jesus have to say anything at all?
I couldn’t help thinking that this set up the Christian world very nicely to preach that doubting our leaders was an undesirable trait – and proving someone wrong is something that has to be done to garner loyalty.
Consider also the term Saviour. Instead of saving ourselves, we have to be saved by Jesus. Once again, the image of helplessness is evident in the term. The symbolism suggests that if we do not place all our trust in Jesus, who, remember, is King – and we try and save ourselves, we won’t succeed.
This leads me to the phenomenon of original sin. When I was young the purpose of the sacrament of baptism was to clean our soul of original sin. Now in a more enlightened era it is to welcome us into whatever Christian religion our parents want us to be part of. But this interpretation of baptism, to the best of my knowledge, has only been popular for the last 40 years or so. Can you imagine the effect of being born flawed in some way on generation after generation of children over hundreds of years?
I can’t help thinking that there’s a link between original sin and keeping people powerless and dependent on our betters to save us.
Finally, consider the strong parallels between the corner-stone of the Christian religion, the resurrection, and the notion of the glorious sacrifice (that I mention in this post) that has been used for centuries to motivate populations to go to war. The resurrection that followed the sacrifice, i.e. the crucifixion of Jesus – if we die we will live again – is a fundamental of Christianity. And the word glorious turns up in the Rosary, where the Glorious Mysteries follow the Sorrowful.
Jesus’ crucifixion involved not only death, but also torture and suffering, all of which he endured to save us flawed sinners. The strong message that comes from the story is that if we endure enough pain and trauma we will win out in the end – and it will be worth it.
I am sure that all these messages from the Gospels can be contextualised in a kind of theological framework but only a minority of the population know enough to do that. I am merely going on the immediate felt-sense impact of such imagery – not the more educated, informed, metaphorical or symbolic interpretations of which I am sure there are many.
Were the Gospels written by very devious people who invented this very good man so that people would be attracted to him and then introduced all these images of helplessness and suffering so we’d be happy being dominated?
I am not really being critical of Gospel messages here – I actually believe that the New Testament in general is a brilliant (and very challenging) blueprint for living. I am merely inviting people to look at their impact, and remember, as Shakespeare said – the devil can cite Scripture for his purposes.
And he’s right – manipulative narcissists (mostly of the grandiose variety) have interpreted Gospel messages to benefit themselves and undermine and dominate others for centuries – and are still doing so.
And I mention them because Christianity has been such a powerful influence in Europe for over 2000 years – so surely its messages have had significant impact!
(By the way I return to, and expand on the use of metaphorical and/or theological references in this post in the Chapter on Organisational Matters).