I find it interesting that we are so scared of terrorists of the Muslim faith.  We spend so much time and energy fearing a group from far away, when we have our own, good ‘ol made-in-America  “terrorists” to contend with.  Let me explain. I just watched a documentary called Jesus Camp.  It’s an eye-opening (and scary, if you are like me) look at the indoctrination into the world of extreme evangelicalism.   

It features the daily life of kids in extreme, fanatical Christian families.  Many of the kids are home schooled, and all live in homes that are saturated with white-bread Christian culture.  Not the Christian culture of Jesus’ community—in fact, except for the Bible, Jesus is talked about as if he is somehow separated from the world he walked, talked, slept, preached, and probably got sick in.  It seems to ignore, except for the bloody (and I mean bloody—there’s definitely an emphasis on his bloody death) crucifixion, that Jesus was a real person—he got pissed off, felt lonely, worried, and ate real food (and it wasn’t from Chik-Fil-A!).  It ignores that his favorite friends weren’t very respected—hell, they weren’t even Christians.  The kind of religion practiced in the film seems so artificial and political—like the plastic cross one purchases at the bible bookstore to hang in their rear-view mirror (which is supposed to somehow help other believers identify them).  It’s so one-dimensional.  This kind of faith doesn’t look at all like the deeply spiritual, truly life-altering faith of some believers that I can think of, such as Brian McLaren, St. Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, or even the evangelical favorite (more beloved than Jesus, perhaps?) Paul.  Their faith was multi-dimensional, and it really changed the world.  It didn’t piss off and even alienate those outside the faith (or inside, for that matter).  I would rather be identified as a Christian (by those a part of and apart from the faith) as a result of my love, service, listening skills, compassion for all, etc. than the Christian rock blasting from my radio. 

So what do you think goes on at Christian camp?  Team and self-confidence building?  Bible lessons designed for children about how they can better serve their community and be good at home?  How about those good old ghost stories (that we know aren’t real—at least I think they aren’t—but love anyway?)?  Not at Jesus Camp.  Oh, you’ll find team building—but it’s of a Republican sort.  One scene features a “visit” by the beloved president himself—a cardboard cut-out of Bush was presented at the pulpit, where the children were required to greet him and pray for his efforts to achieve the conservative agenda. I was scared nearly to tears as I watched little kids cry and shake over their “sins”.  One child was brought to the floor in shame because he had dared to question whether or not the Bible was true.  Wasn’t it in the Bible that Thomas questioned Jesus about his authenticity?  Was he not rewarded for his seeking? Another child dismissed quiet, contemplative churches (like many Quaker Meetings) as “dead”.  She thought God only showed up to loud churches like the mega-church she was a part of. Probably the saddest part was the opinion voiced by one little boy—a child considered to have great leadership potential (by the camp staff).  He said that he didn’t feel good around non-believers—in essence that they creeped him out.  He said they made him sick, then promptly noted that that was perhaps the case because they were sick.  I was immediately reminded of a passage of Scripture:“Very few people will die to save the life of someone else.  Although perhaps for a good person someone might possibly die.  But God shows his great love for us in this way: Christ died for us while we were still sinners.”  (Romans 5:7-8) 

God loves all of his creation—even when they aren’t (and perhaps especially) squeaky clean.  Remember Jesus discussing the prodigal son?  The greatest celebration is saved for the return of the lost.  So, it was with great sorrow that I heard a child saying that those out of the Christian faith make him sick.  Jesus’ best friends were the dirty and criminal.  

A final note about the film—the pastor of the camp is a woman named Becky Fischer.  Well, I guess those particular Christians don’t always interpret the bible literally…  

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