On the Ethics of Emulating One’s Heros

Tonight I watched a movie called Luther, the content of which I bet none of you will guess. It was very well made and made me think deeply about controversy, my faith, and what it means to be Christian. I am impressed by how real a movie is capable of making historical events I have learned in history class to be true. Nothing the film communicated seems to be particularly false, except that Luther was apparently shorter and fatter than depicted. It was moving, and I admire Luther very greatly after having seen it. I’m well aware that it was made by fans of Luther, so that it might make Luther more appealing than he would otherwise have been, but I feel like whatever rhetoric the film certainly employed was only a vehicle by which it sold the truths of actual history to me. I like it when movies do that kind of thing.

What was incredible about this movie was how Christlike Luther seemed. Sure, he had a long face and big eyes and brown hair and smiled in a very Jesus-y kind of way. The actor and the wishful thinking of the die-hard Luther fans sure to be responsible for the script, etc., definitely helped it on. But other than that, the actions and dispositions communicated seem like that of a pretty hardcore disciple: his tendency to be absorbed in things higher than the common people, but yet to be one of them, somewhat obsessed with them, and constantly among them; to somehow treat religious enemies with a measure of compassion despite outright (and pretty venomous) disagreement; to oppose violence but seem revolutionary anyways; to mourn death but to look beyond it; to go as far as flipping possible to uphold people's unity and honor and peace, but to preach his vision of truth boldly; to love deeply; to be uninterested in fame and power for their own sake; to be absurdly more unkosher than anyone seems to remember him for; to strip away religion and its traditions to the core of what and who God is. Those are a whole bunch of the same things I really like Jesus for, so Luther seemed pretty awesome in this film.

Here is where the problem springs up on my little Existential radar: weren’t the Catholics right on their own frameworks? Didn’t they have a point? Was Luther really justified? Are we to be so fundamentalist and Utilitarian to say that we wouldn’t take back Luther’s actions to spare all those peasants’ lives? I’m playing devil’s advocate a bit – I don’t really think it’s fair to call Luther “fundamentalist” – but where is the boundary between militance and a willingness to engage militarily? What’s the difference bewteen firm reform and radicalism? Or even between firm speaking and radical speaking? Reading through John, as I have been, Jesus doesn't exactly come off as moderate. He's uncompromisingly self-assured. If both Jesus and Luther seem so firm in what they believe, so unwavering, what am I, as a Christian existentialist? As is the case every time I find someone or something I admire, I have to wonder how I might apply what I admire in whatever I’ve been exposed to.

Everything I’ve done at Bear Creek, in my peer group, and in family with regard to LGBT issues (and all the other controversial stuff I've talked about) has been intended as an imitation of the thinking I see reflected in the actions of people like Luther and Jesus. When I’m misunderstood as disrespectful or trouble-seeking or inspiring unnecessary unrest, I’m encouraged by history to regard those critics as Pharisees or as the Catholic Church in this film: to respect them and to go to all their trials and try to be on their side, but eventually be firm and public in your disagreement. I’ve been much less public than the people I'm trying to emulate, because I don’t want a war. But that also compromises speed and efficacy. Who knows? Do I even want a revolution? What’s really at stake here? What are we “fighting” for?

What’s funny is that I see and have always seen my mission as incredibly simple. The reasoning goes like this: 1) Love is good and its promotion is God-like. 2) It is decidedly unloving to perpetuate unloving environments by allowing them to go unchanged. 3) Promoting education helps environments to become aware that they are doing the above. 4) There is very little or no cost. 5) We are called to love even if there IS cost. 6) It’s a total no-brainer that we should at least be educated about this crap.

Furthermore, on a less meta level:
1) Love is good. 2) Gay couples love just like straight couples do. 3) The opposition to affirming gay relationships comes from very strict application of a very small number of verses in the Bible. 4) Jesus’ philosophy seems to be to love God and one’s neighbor first above all things, and to prefer concepts over legalism. 5) If condemning gay relationships is founded in legalism and affirming them is founded in love, then we should err on the affirmative side if there is chance of error.

And that’s if you’re not entirely sure what to do with the Biblical passages. If you are, as I am, well, then, this is like, a tripple-whammie. (That having been said, I'd love feedback, if you disagree, because my inability to understand people is where about 95% of my judgment comes from.)

But here's where I land, having made my rounds through this whole thought process: if love is so fundamental and so intuitive about this whole issue, why not be more firm in my conclusion? Why not at least go on the very most unoffensive, meta level - education - and try to force that through the system, even if people get a little agitated? That on its own a double-whammie compromise if you’re in the tripple-whammie club like me. That no longer seems outrageously radical at all. In fact, on my LutherJesus framework, my regular method of doing things seems to compromise a lot of opportunity to stand up for Love.

Sometimes I think it’s smarter for me to try not to be too much like my understanding of Jesus. I'll inevitably make myself an enemy of Christians if I try.