Some folks you just know are Christian by looking at them. They look Christian. Perhaps I look Christian. That’s a huge problem because the stigmata of Christian faith defy surface signals such as race, gender, ethnicity, language, dress, gender preference, or nationality. The stigmata — the signs — of Christian faith are relational. We should not be able to tell whether an individual is Christian by that individual’s outward appearance or language. And, yet, we all routinely make that call. I, for example, assume that urban African Americans are either Baptist, African Methodist Episcopal, or Church of God; and just as routinely I assume that, when a European American’s dialect betrays her or him as a “southerner,” she or he must be Southern Baptist or some more conservative strain of evangelical. Stereotypes are short-cuts. But, just as with mushrooms, looks can be deceiving.
In the first century, if you were a Christian and resided in the eastern Mediterranean, chances are that you were born into a Jewish family; but, if you were among Saint Paul’s converts in Corinth, Galatia, Philippi, Thessaloniki, or Colossi, there was an equal chance you might be a pagan convert. Appearance, language, and custom would, in this case, be of little help. As late as the 80s and 90s CE, the Apostle John’s communities are still pondering the question: how will you recognize another Christian?
The children of God and the children of the devil are revealed in this way: all who do not do what is right are not from God, nor are those who do not love their brothers and sisters (1 John 3:10).
Do not be astonished, brothers and sisters, that the world hates you. We know that we have passed from death to life because we love one another. Whoever does not love abides in death (1 John 3:13-14).
How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sisterb in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. (1 John 3:17-18).
By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments (1 John 5:2).
But then we try to translate this “love” into a surface appearance. If you love God, then you will oppose taxes on wealth. If you love God, you will hate men who love men and women who love women. If you love God, you will hate . . .
I am thinking about the stigmata of Christian faith today because I know, in less than a month, that I will once again be thrown into the arena of Fall Semester with an entirely new group of Junior and Senior Economics majors. My mostly Asian and Eastern Mediterranean students will be confused. I look like a Christian. But the sound coming from the speakers in the lecture hall is (I haven’t decided) Radiohead, alt-J, Drake, FKA twigs, who knows. I look like a Christian — white, European American, short hair, in my 60s, but . . .
And, then, over the course of the semester we will conduct a deep reading of Adam Smith, David Ricardo, Thomas Malthus, GWF Hegel, Karl Marx, Carl Menger, and a long list of others, tracing in their economic models the unfolding of a world that is patently not Christian, not religious, not ethical, and not loving. “He must not be a Christian.”
Stigmata. Because were I a “Christian,” I would simply tell them what the Bible says about obeying governing powers, about avoiding works righteousness, and about the “Jesus prayer.” Instead I am inviting them to master rigorous mathematical modeling of an increasingly integrated, comprehensive economic world. “He must not be a Christian.” “Did you notice how passionately he taught Marx?”
The stigmata of the Christian faith are relational.
Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matt. 26:34-40).
The world thinks that the Christian faith is something superficial — a language, a sexual preference, a nationality, a race. The world thinks that the Christian faith can be read off the surface of a person’s life — their clothing, the music they listen to. And, yet, if these are the stigmata of Christian faith, then it is just as superficial as it seems.
So, once again, this Fall, I will step out into the great lecture hall of Economics 105, History of Economic Thought, and I will test how closely my students are reading me. Is he a Christian? He looks like a Christian. He doesn’t listen to Christian music. He doesn’t sound like a Christian. He can’t be a Christian. Is he a Christian?