In your face Christianity
David McGrath has an interesting commentary in today’s Chicago Tribune about a gigantic white cross that looms over the prairies in southern Illinois. (The photo isn’t on-line, but it can be seen for miles.
But there's a different kind of feeling as you approach the Effingham interchange, about 225 miles south of Chicago, when you first catch sight of the 198-foot white cross that scrapes the sky. You get a chill. It's a reaction to power, or what might also be called intimidation.
Having been raised a Catholic, I don't usually find crosses scary. Their historic use for execution notwithstanding, crosses have connoted hope, compassion and the triumph of good over evil, or over vampires, at the least. You see lots of them poking unobtrusively above the neighborhoods as you drive the Dan Ryan and Kennedy Expressways and the feeling you get is a positive mix of reassurance and community.
But the steel "Cross of the Crossroads" punctuating the junction of I-57 and Interstate Highway 70 in the center of Illinois, does not induce the same warm feelings. Rather than beckoning from the distance, it towers as close to the highway as the Illinois Department of Transportation would permit, hovering over passing motorists, its white sheet-metal panels reflecting the glare of sun in order to command attention, to shout and to bully with its message of Christian morals.
Its intent is starkly different from what used to be called debate in this country, when individuals and groups would profess and explain their views and beliefs. They'd show their earnestness by clinging to those beliefs and attempt to persuade through example.
But, unfortunately, many radical Christians on the far right act in very un-Christian like ways as they attempt to force their beliefs on others. They are arrogant and they are mean-spirited bullies – certainly not something that we used to think of we the word “Christian” was used. That has changed.
For it's apparently no longer enough to express an opinion, or to simply be noticed, like those multiple churchlike spires decorating the Chicago skyline. Today's activists, after the fashion of the Effingham behemoth, demand conversion.... We have begun to confuse free speech with some perversely perceived expectation of compliance. It's the ultimate in politically correct arrogance, the assumption that my agenda should be your agenda.
But it must stop, not only because it trespasses on the rights of others, but because coercion is destructive and, ultimately, unsuccessful.
Exactly, being nasty toward someone is hardly going to convince them to convert to your religion, this is a very destructive aspect of the radical religious leaders so prominent today. I hope that someday, they’ll learn that and go back to trying to change others by example, but I don’t think that’s likely. This sort of behavior has become integral to their version of Christianity. How embarrassing for other Christians, who are trying to lead by example.
But there's a different kind of feeling as you approach the Effingham interchange, about 225 miles south of Chicago, when you first catch sight of the 198-foot white cross that scrapes the sky. You get a chill. It's a reaction to power, or what might also be called intimidation.
Having been raised a Catholic, I don't usually find crosses scary. Their historic use for execution notwithstanding, crosses have connoted hope, compassion and the triumph of good over evil, or over vampires, at the least. You see lots of them poking unobtrusively above the neighborhoods as you drive the Dan Ryan and Kennedy Expressways and the feeling you get is a positive mix of reassurance and community.
But the steel "Cross of the Crossroads" punctuating the junction of I-57 and Interstate Highway 70 in the center of Illinois, does not induce the same warm feelings. Rather than beckoning from the distance, it towers as close to the highway as the Illinois Department of Transportation would permit, hovering over passing motorists, its white sheet-metal panels reflecting the glare of sun in order to command attention, to shout and to bully with its message of Christian morals.
Its intent is starkly different from what used to be called debate in this country, when individuals and groups would profess and explain their views and beliefs. They'd show their earnestness by clinging to those beliefs and attempt to persuade through example.
But, unfortunately, many radical Christians on the far right act in very un-Christian like ways as they attempt to force their beliefs on others. They are arrogant and they are mean-spirited bullies – certainly not something that we used to think of we the word “Christian” was used. That has changed.
For it's apparently no longer enough to express an opinion, or to simply be noticed, like those multiple churchlike spires decorating the Chicago skyline. Today's activists, after the fashion of the Effingham behemoth, demand conversion.... We have begun to confuse free speech with some perversely perceived expectation of compliance. It's the ultimate in politically correct arrogance, the assumption that my agenda should be your agenda.
But it must stop, not only because it trespasses on the rights of others, but because coercion is destructive and, ultimately, unsuccessful.
Exactly, being nasty toward someone is hardly going to convince them to convert to your religion, this is a very destructive aspect of the radical religious leaders so prominent today. I hope that someday, they’ll learn that and go back to trying to change others by example, but I don’t think that’s likely. This sort of behavior has become integral to their version of Christianity. How embarrassing for other Christians, who are trying to lead by example.

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