On Wednesday this week, I was conversing with someone I know in Denmark. In the midst of chitchat, they remarked how they had to make sure they went to the grocery store because everything would be closed the next day. I quickly scanned my brain and could not come up with any reason for a government holiday on May 14, so I asked if it was some kind of Danish holiday. “No,” came the response, “a Christian one. The one after Jesus is resurrected and goes into the heavens… I don’t know what it is in English.”
The Ascension is a national holiday in Denmark, as are many other Christian holy days, my friend shared. Despite most people identifying as agnostic or atheist, Denmark has retained Christianity as its national religion and many Christian holy days as national holidays.
I do not want the United States to have a national religion. I do not believe Christian holy days should be national holidays here. I am a staunch advocate of religious liberty and the separation of church and state. But I find the inversion of my expectations curious: the United States with 70%+ identifying as Christian and it didn’t even enter my mind that the Ascension might be a day off for anyone, while in Denmark where most are non-religious they have a holiday for a Christian holy day.
But then my friend shared something else I found even more provocative: she said that many Danes — despite being agnostic or atheist — are still registered as part of the state church. In her words: “it is culture and not belief.”
And that’s got me wondering whether there might more more similarity than I first felt. Plenty of Christians would balk at being called agnostic or atheist, I’m sure, but I can’t help but wonder how much of the “Christianity” in this country is “culture and not belief” at this point. To anyone with ears to hear, it is pretty obvious that a lot of those wielding Christian language are doing so in ways that are blatantly contrary to Jesus. Intensifying — not beginning — roughly a decade ago, the vast majority of Christian voters completely reversed their positions on a number of issues they previously claimed were rooted in their faith convictions. The pandemic only accelerated that process and further polarized those identifying for “cultural” reasons from the “belief” at the core of the Christian tradition. They may still attend a service most weeks, read a bible, and do other outwardly “Christian” things, but those things that identify one with Jesus (compassion, identification with the poor and marginalized, being a servant of all, etc.) are not just absent but an anathema to them.
If all of this depresses you, I apologize, as this is not my attempt. I’m “thinking out loud.”
And I’m in a way, I’m actually encouraged by some of this.
As others look less and less like Jesus, the distance between them and those who practice what Jesus teaches grows. That means those who are following Jesus will be less and less connected with those “false followers” and will be more seen as ourselves. The good we do will be allowed to stand for itself, instead of always having to somehow “make up” for the ill of others.
And even more than that, we really are in a position to “let our light shine before others.” My Danish friend remarked how ugly it looks to see religious people set on forcing their beliefs on others. Do we trust the good life of Jesus to shine for itself? Do we trust the Spirit to do the work in the lives of others? Do we trust God to be able to accomplish God’s hopes for the world — even through us?
Jesus says yes. And he invites us to follow.
Remember, we’re all in this together.
Pastor Michael