During my extended vacation in Utah, I chose to take a little drive out into the desert to a town called Rowley so I could stand on the western shore of the Great Salt Lake. I drove about an hour outside of Salt Lake City to head towards Rowley, enjoying a lovely semi-cloudy sky that let sunlight through with truly artistic shade patterns. The parts of the water I could see were mirroring this unbelievable sky.
By the time I got to Rowley, the clouds had overtaken the sky and it was nearly dark.
Well…correction. The sky was covered in clouds by the time I got to where Rowley was supposed to be. See, apparently Rowley is a ghost town that was abandoned several decades ago. The whole area is now a magnesium plant without a single public road to the shores of the Great Salt Lake. And yet…it’s still on the map as Rowley. Go figure.
So I quickly turned around and headed back towards the hotel.
If you’ve ever gone for a drive out west, you have likely noticed some key differences from most eastern cities. See, the land out west typically comes in two categories: jagged peaks of dizzying elevation or completely, entirely flat.
One of my favorite views of Atlanta is when I-75 South merges with I-85 South just north of North Avenue (blegh) and you see the glittering lights and skyscrapers for almost the first time since a few isolated hills above the city a few miles back. We have trees and changes in elevation that keep us from really getting a clear look at what’s ahead until we are right up on it.
Driving back into Salt Lake City on the I-80, I could see just about the entire metro area lit up like a bundle of Christmas tree lights that someone had dumped on the floor. And we’re talking about a metro area that spans almost 100 miles north-to-south.
When I was about 25 miles away from Salt Lake City proper, I started to notice one exceptionally bright spot on the horizon. Even from that far out, it was obviously the Salt Lake Mormon Temple, the 253,000 square-foot behemoth that dominates the city.
Sure, there are larger buildings in the city, but the temple sits away from the downtown towers and is lit up by what I can only assume are bulbs that someone stole from the airport while nobody was looking. It is unmistakable.
For what I believe is the first time in my life, I felt a strange weight on my chest. This structure was a physical reminder of the spiritual and political dominance that the LDS church holds over the region.
Growing up in Georgia, I always felt more or less like a member of the majority. Let’s be realistic. I’m a white Southern Baptist. I am part of the majority. The predominant faith in my region has never been a dominating force in my life because I am part of it.
It occurred to me in that moment that there are a lot of people who probably feel a similar weight in their stomach when they see a Christian church or hear talk about the Christian faith. I had been in the vague presence of this Mormon temple for a few minutes and had noted a heavy pressure on my soul in that moment. What about people who have been living under the pressure of a dominant, oppressive faith for the entirety of their lives?
I can imagine that it is a certain type of a struggle, no doubt. For most of my life I’ve heard people talk about how Christianity is oppressive and harmful and awful.
All along, I have been very quick to jump in and defend Christianity. I am quick to tell people that Christianity is not oppressive.
On the other hand, perhaps I was a bit too hasty in that defense.
But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume. And who is adequate for such a task as this?
You see, we are not like the many hucksters who preach for personal profit. We preach the word of God with sincerity and with Christ’s authority, knowing that God is watching us.
2 Corinthians 2:14-17 (NLT)
The more I think about it, the more I realize that Christianity is oppressive by design. But not in the way that people think.
Because I’m a bit of a nerd when it comes to Roman history, I want to dive into the extended metaphor that Paul is using here in this passage. He is referring to the tradition of a general’s triumphal procession when returning from a great battle.
In these processions, the general would ride his four-horse chariot through a carefully prescribed route through Rome, followed by his soldiers and a heaping pile of treasure. At the front of the procession, though, would be the captured soldiers and the women and children from the conquered army. Nearby there would be a phenomenal incense burner releasing the most beautifully pungent aroma, married up with various perfumes and crushed flower petals.
So this fragrance was a mark of victory to all the triumphant soldiers returning with their general and the citizens of Rome witnessing the parade. To the captives, however, this fragrance was the aroma of death. And not just because it was reportedly stronger smelling than a Bath and Body Works.
Many of the captives who led the way in a Roman procession were literally marching to their death. That strong fragrance would be the last they would ever know.
Paul plays a little literary trick on us in this passage, though. Remember the original passage? In Paul’s example, the captives are the ones who are celebrating. Those of us who are in Christ are already Christ’s captives, and yet we are “the fragrance of life” in Paul’s eyes.
But how is that possible? How can the captives be the ones who are celebrating in a triumphal procession?
There are countless passages in the Bible that talk about being “dead to self” or being “slaves of Christ.” For example:
Since we have been united with him in his death, we will also be raised to life as he was. We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power in our lives. We are no longer slaves to sin. For when we died with Christ we were set free from the power of sin. And since we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him. We are sure of this because Christ was raised from the dead, and he will never die again. Death no longer has any power over him. When he died, he died once to break the power of sin. But now that he lives, he lives for the glory of God. So you also should consider yourselves to be dead to the power of sin and alive to God through Christ Jesus.
Romans 6:5-11 (NLT) (Emphasis mine)
This passage in Romans 6 talks about us dying with Christ. It also does a little to explain the ever-confusing paradox of dying with Christ, while living in Christ. Then a little later on in the same chapter:
Do not let sin control the way you live; do not give in to sinful desires. Do not let any part of your body become an instrument of evil to serve sin. Instead, give yourselves completely to God, for you were dead, but now you have new life. So use your whole body as an instrument to do what is right for the glory of God. Sin is no longer your master, for you no longer live under the requirements of the law. Instead, you live under the freedom of God’s grace.
Well then, since God’s grace has set us free from the law, does that mean we can go on sinning? Of course not! Don’t you realize that you become the slave of whatever you choose to obey? You can be a slave to sin, which leads to death, or you can choose to obey God, which leads to righteous living. Thank God! Once you were slaves of sin, but now you wholeheartedly obey this teaching we have given you. Now you are free from your slavery to sin, and you have become slaves to righteous living.
Romans 6:12-19 (NLT) (Emphasis mine)
In this part of the passage, Paul does a good job of explaining the paradoxical dichotomy between slavery to sin and slavery to Christ. We can choose slavery to sin and death, or we can choose slavery to life in Christ.
That theme continues in the final segment of Romans 6 that I’ve pulled out here.
When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the obligation to do right. And what was the result? You are now ashamed of the things you used to do, things that end in eternal doom. But now you are free from the power of sin and have become slaves of God. Now you do those things that lead to holiness and result in eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 6:20-23 (NLT) (Emphasis mine)
Let me summarize this as best I can. The ones who are captive in Christ are the ones who have found freedom from sin. We are free from a power that corrupts and destroys everything it touches. That doesn’t mean that we never engage in sinful activities, of course we do from time to time, but we are no longer bound to that power. Instead, we are bound to one who gives life.
It amazes me that Paul talks about Christians as the captives at the front of the line because, in the Roman procession, the captive soldiers were supposed to reflect the glory of the Roman general who brought them to the city. In the same way, we are supposed to reflect the glory of Jesus Christ who has captured us and delivered us from death and into life.
That’s all the positive side, and it sounds great, but we have to also focus on the opposite end of things to fully understand Paul’s metaphor. Those who are outside looking in are the ones who are still subject to the power of sin. They have not yet yielded to the power of Christ and are still fighting that battle. They are still bound to the power of sin and they are still subject to spiritual death, even while they are physically alive.
The heart that refuses Christ, watching those who are being led to life, will innately endure an oppression of the spirit. It may not be entirely fair of me to say that Christianity is oppressive by design, but it is certainly oppressive by nature.
We are walking an incredibly precarious edge here when we talk about something like this. I will acknowledge that Christianity is oppressive in the sense that people who are living outside of Christ will always experience life differently from those who are in Christ. The paradoxical freedom that we find in captivity with Christ is the “aroma of death” to those who are without Christ, and that would be an oppressive reality.
However, what we also have to realize is that this is not generally the type of oppression that people think they’re referring to when they talk about Christianity. They are generally talking about the type of oppression that sees women held back, knowledge repressed, minorities defamed, and the list goes on.
Paul’s statement here in 2 Corinthians also touches on this subject.
In v. 16-17, Paul says, “And who is adequate for such a task as this?” while acknowledging that “we are not like the many hucksters” who preach for personal gain.
One of the chief problems with Christianity is that there is authority in the name of Jesus Christ. There is authority in preaching the name of Jesus Christ. And that is a tremendous type of authority, when you’re talking about the power that of God.
How exactly does that old saying go about power and corruption?
There is an immense temptation to wield the power and authority of the Christian faith for personal gain. Look at the televangelists and the “Prosperity Gospel” preachers who have made millions by mishandling that authority.
Now consider the unfortunate marriage of governmental authority and Christian authority. You will never hear me say that Christians should abstain from government or that Christians in public service should hide their faith. However, we cannot use our faith as an excuse for poor behavior or poor treatment of others.
If we are going to stand up to the task of preaching the Gospel, we have to engage in a type of self-policing that prevents us from using the immense authority we hold in the name of Christ improperly. We need to maintain our humility with a prayerful attitude.
As Paul says, who is adequate for such a task as this? Who is adequate for reflecting the glory of Christ? If we choose to take advantage of others and defame the name of Christ, then we disqualify ourselves. If we choose to contribute to the added, unnecessary oppression that can ruin the reputation of Christ’s Kingdom, then we are doing a disservice to the world around us and those who need to hear the saving Gospel of Jesus Christ.
I cannot apologize for all of the millions of people who have misused the Gospel for their own personal agenda, whether that be for financial gain or for political power to punish their enemies. I would be somewhat remiss if I ignored these realities, and you will have to take my word for it when I say that these improprieties anger me as much as they do you.
What I can do is acknowledge that there is an element of oppression to Christianity that we cannot ignore or hide from. And this oppression is inescapable. You can either choose the oppression of freedom that comes with following Christ, or you can choose the freedom from Christ that brings the oppression of sinfulness.
Even though a type of oppression is inescapable, we do have the luxury to choose who we follow. We have the freedom to chain ourselves to Christ. We have the freedom to choose captivity, and to choose life.
If the freedom from spiritual death is oppression, then I will happily accept.