Oh happy day! Oh happy day-ay! Oh, when Jesus washed. Ohhh, when Jesus washed. Washed our sins away. Oh happy day.
Yes. I am a man who has been baptised. I am a man who has gone to reconciliation. I am a man who has received his first holy eucharist, I am a man who has been confirmed, I am a man who went through 12 years worth of Catholic education. And yet, despite all this, despite being, as far as I can tell, only a few places away from Ratzinger himself, I'm still not a man who was entitled to see (via webcast) our elected/soon-to-be-elected/potential/putative/definitive/happy-go-lucky/Tom-Hanks-and-Meg-Ryan-in-You've-Got-Mail-esque party leaders, Kevin Rudd and Tony Abbott, have their first ever face-to-face debate on how they would govern this fair nation of ours. In front of an assembled congregation of... Christians?
I don't know why I wasn't there. Might have something to do with not going to church. Might have something to do with the alcohol intake and pre-marital sex. Might have something to do with my penchant for games of "
Where is Jesus?". Might be the fact that I use the words "Jesus Christ" as a go-to-expletive when referring to everything from a train derailment to spilling a cup of tea to the prospect of actually having to get up and open the front door, despite it really only being three and a half/four metres tops from my bed. Yeah, that's why this guy died for my sins. Or it might be because I maintain this is the best picture I've seen in the last calendar year:
Haaaaaa. Yeah, Creepy Jesus might be it.
But irrespective of my non-attendance, there they were, Abbott and Rudd, fielding questions from Christian types, assuring them that, while they weren't Christian politicians, they were definitely politicians who were Christian... At which point they spent the rest of the evening explaining exactly how much their electoral platforms had in common with the Christian lobby. In fact, it wasn't so much a "debate" as it was "two guys trying to sound exactly the same".
But it's hard to know what these churches even are that they deserve
such special attention. The Christian majority? Hardly. An address to
the fervently Muslim population of Australia would probably reach a
similar audience. Which isn't so much a statement on
demographics as it is a reflection on the fact that these days although we might
claim to be believers in Jesus, by and large we devote more of our time
to Masterchef than we do to the mysteries of living in a beatific
relationship with our one Lord and master. Matt Preston.
But what I do find remarkable at these sorts of junctures in the electoral cycle is just how resolutely anti-democratic "the Church" starts to appear. For a couple of reasons. First up and quite fundamentally: us non-believers aren't allowed to see it. These are happenings that only the Chosen are entitled to hear and participate in. Only they could understand. It's like that point in primary school sex ed where the girls were taken off to learn about periods and the various other mysteries of femininity while the guys were left in the classroom re-watching that ever so exciting animated version of 'What's Happening To Me' where you got to see a naked, animated girl hit puberty. Man, those were the days... of being taught sex ed by a nun. A curious experience for all involved.
And second: both leaders attended this debate as a result of, and spent their time kowtowing to the purportedly influential opinion of "the Church". Whatever that means. I mean, let's be honest, by this point in history Jesus is pretty much the delicious ranch sauce on an entire table's worth of religious mixed grill (Catholic cow parts, Lutheran lamb chops, Anglican alpaca fillets, Hillsong ham hocks etc), so you can't really throw to him as a unifying module in your political positioning. Lest we forget, the Unitarians and Anglicans are already in the midst of far-reaching, difficult debates over the question of the ordination of lesbian bishops. It's not like they can stand wholly together with those Manpower Catholics in an argument over what it means to live a holy life. A shirtless life.
God, even by my standards that was an unnecessary picture.
No, "the Church" of this debate is something beyond that, a strange, ossified version of Christian faith that is more a political expedient than it is a relationship with the Almighty. A version of Christianity that is reduced down to a few base talking points that then stand in for the deeply individual and - for some - assuredly rewarding instances where they feel the divine.
But there's little divine in these parades of half-cocked political reassurances, where Christianity throws again to those singular, monolithic church structures that have done so well for themselves over the last couple of millenia of faith, good times, child sex crimes and brutal colonisation. In these kinds of absurd theatres it feels like the Church has simply become another lobby group, swamping the myriad people and voices and opinions that comprise a rich and composite faith and compressing them into a supposedly unified body that stands as one against such horrors as gay marriage, compassion towards refugees and a Parliamentary day that doesn't involve the Lord's Prayer. But I doubt it's really that simple, any more. Christianity has become a background thrum to our lives rather than the strident chorus. Which is not to place anything against Christianity or its, at their best, quite remarkable and society-shaping values. But simply to say that the spectacle of both leaders supplicating themselves at the feet of a politicised and increasingly unrepresentative Christian church isn't really the most edifying spectacle doing the rounds right now. But then again, in this election, what is?
Now: fart jokes!