I was recently at a conference and had the opportunity to preview a piece of Christian media that has been picked up by one of the major streaming services.
After the showing ended, the director of the program addressed the room of people who had just finished viewing his work—a work that required much time, effort, and, surely, money.
Some of the questions posed by those in the room revolved around the production or the actors involved. But it seemed that the room developed a sort of heightened buzz when the topic of discussion turned to the fact that a major streaming service had picked up this Christian program.
Sentiment like, “Wow! Can you believe it? They have finally acknowledged us,” and, “It’s amazing to think there are Christians working at [major streaming company],” characterized much of the conversation. In fact, an executive from the streaming service was in the room and exuded optimism about doing more such Christian film and TV in the future. The folks in the room sounded more thrilled with the legitimacy allegedly provided by the streaming service’s endorsement than they were with getting more Christian media to consume.
What the executive implied was that the streaming service finds Christian media inherently worthy of production and promotion, without much mention of the reality that any hope of future Christian media on major streaming services relies heavily on the monetary success of those that have already been picked up. The executive did a great job of making it seem like the streaming service cares about Christians’ media interests and agendas more than Christians’ money.
Anyway, I felt sort of bad for the director of the program because it felt like many in the room who had just viewed his art were most amazed by the fact that a major streaming service had picked it up—as opposed to being amazed by the art itself.
Put another way, what grieved me the most was that there seemed to be a significant degree more excitement around the validation that comes with a major streaming service picking up Christian media than there was excitement about the media itself.
It felt, to me, like another in a long line of examples of American evangelicalism’s adoration of power.
It is almost as if the goal all along hasn’t been getting more Christian media out into the world, but getting recognized and validated by the power brokers who control the biggest media platforms in the world.
The most glaring example of an evangelical obsession with power is, of course, in the realm of politics and making sure “our guy wins” at all costs.
Historically, the foolish evangelical lust for power and influence through politics has been subject to an unequally yoked wedding with the wise consideration of electing officials who will rule closely to the biblical understanding of justice and righteousness.
Obviously, as of late, one of these spouses has cannibalized the other.
I guess what I mean to say is that I just wish that we Western evangelicals didn’t care so much about power.
I wish we saw power for what it really is—a temptation toward idolatry and an invitation to build our lives on the ephemeral authority of the self rather than an eternal reliance on Another.
I am reminded of Jesus being tempted by the devil in Matthew 4:8-9:
Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.”
Likewise, we should take note of who is blessed in the beatitudes of Matthew 5:2-12:
And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
The ones who find themselves happiest kneeling at the feet of Jesus are the ones who are least likely to have anyone kneeling at their feet.
The way up is down. The path to true power is on the road of weakness. This doesn’t play well in politics and it doesn’t necessarily lend itself to impressive revenues for streaming giants.
Of course the clearest teaching of Jesus on this subject comes later in Matthew when Christ interacts with the mother of James and John. She approaches Jesus, and the following conversation takes place:
And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” He said to them, “You will drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” And when the ten heard it, they were indignant at the two brothers. But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:21-28, bolding mine)
Real power comes in sacrifice, not in political appointments or mega-corp board rooms.
Toward the end of his great little book, Absolute Surrender, Andrew Murray writes:
So long as you have got your own wisdom and thoughts and strength, you cannot fully trust God. But when God breaks you down, when everything begins to grow dim before your eyes, and you see that you understand nothing, then God is coming nigh, and if you will bow down in nothingness and wait upon God, He will become all.
As long as we are something, God cannot be all, and His omnipotence cannot do its full work. That is the beginning of faith—utter despair of self, a ceasing from man and everything on earth, and finding our hope in God alone.
….
If I am something, then God is not everything; but when I become nothing, God can become all, and the everlasting God in Christ can reveal Himself fully. That is the higher life. We need to become nothing.
The higher life is found in total and utter reliance on God, not in the pseudo-validation of the monetarily rich and politically powerful.
The higher life is to be made low.
Jesus addresses the powerful harshly in accordance with a sort of “righteousness” they believe comes with power.
Jesus deals with the weak graciously because they know the only power they will ever receive will have to come from someone else.
So many of us in American evangelicalism believe that might leads to right, though most of us have the wisdom never to utter what our heart believes.
Jesus acts as though might is a blight, so let’s not pursue it.
Let us not clamor for the validation of the world, but cling to the humiliation of the lamb so that, one day, we may be raised to share in a kind of power not measured in dollars or votes piled high, but in crowns cast down.
Oh yes!
Well done!