Thomas Merton wrote the following on 22 July 1963, and I believe it to be as true — to me — today as it was — to him — then
How true it is that the great obligation of the Christian, especially now, is to prove himself a disciple of Christ by hating no one, that is to say, by condemning no one, rejecting no one. And how true that the impatience that fumes at others and damns them (especially whole classes, races, nations) is a sign of the weakness that is still unliberated, still not tracked by the Blood of Christ, and is still a stranger to the Cross.
A Year with Thomas Merton: Daily Meditations from His Journals; reading for July 24.
I find “hating no one” to be a challenge. I’m pretty good at it in the categories of “races, nations,” but I struggle with the “whole classes” bit. If classes are upper, middle, and lower, I can say with a relative confidence that I don’t hate anyone because of their status. But I struggle with the stubborn ignorance, the grasping, self-absorbed greed that seems inherent at all social levels. This probably means that it’s human and takes conscious effort and hard work to overcome.
Recently a couple of Facebook friends — one a beloved cousin — sent me a link to a song titled “Here in America” or “In God We Still Trust” or maybe “Here in America, in God We Still Trust.” My cousin asked me to forward it “if so led,” but I can’t in good conscience do so. The lyrics of the song are flat and clichéd (worse even in this trait than Lee Greenwood’s career-killing “God Bless the U.S.A.”), and the images in the accompanying video are saccharine patriotic and religious sentiment.
The song is American Christianity at its most sappy and, I believe, despite the pretty music, at its worst — the putting of America before (or at least equal to) Christ.
The older I become, the crankier I become about religion. Not about faith, the teachings of Christ, and the attempt to walk in his way, but about American Christianity as empty religiosity laying claim to an all-but-forgotten Christ who has — absolutely against his will and the life he lived — become just another icon of American mythology.