For a Christian, Lent operates as a moment to renew the choice to be a
disciple. The ministry of Jesus begins in the early part of the
Gospels, with an overt confrontation with the devil. Three archetypal
temptations are played out. Jesus exposes the pattern of temptation,
overcoming and rejecting it. He leads the way through the blandishments
of evil, through death, and towards eternal life; on Ash Wednesday,
Christians renew their commitment to follow him.
But the second temptation might have caught the eye of the
establishment this year in particular. It warns that political power and
influence must not be gained at the expense of spiritual integrity.
That seems to have posed a dilemma to King Charles, which he may have
failed to understand.
When the King was crowned, there was a great deal of interest in the
way in which he intended to exercise his constitutional role as Supreme
Governor of the Church of England – the state church.
He had already, over the years, expressed an interest in the rights
of all religions. He spoke of being a defender of faith in general,
which, at first sight, seemed a noble and wise cause. But having made
the choice to defend faith in general, a second choice then appeared
swiftly on its heels.
Despite the relativism of our culture, it is clear to any reasonably
well-read observer that the different religions present different gods
with different goals and different ethics. And while they do share some
universal values in common, at certain points they stand against and
contradict one another, and the would-be pilgrim is forced to choose
between them.
It is deeply unpopular to point out that Mohammed and Jesus present
two different gods, with two different sets of ethics, requiring two
different modes of surrender.
The saviour and the warlord do not follow the same road. Indeed, the
warlord claims that the records describing the saviour and his work have
been falsified. The warlord claims the saviour did not overcome death,
nor does he have the right to forgive sins.
The warlord tells the followers of the saviour that they have been
misled by their documents, that they are to revoke them and to submit to
him and his different God. The warlord declares that the saviour was
wrong in offering a relationship with God as a tender father. God is
instead beyond reach and unknowable: a fierce ethical power that
requires submission as the response to an encounter with his warlord
prophet.
This presents a serious conundrum to anyone promoting a multicultural
society. The essential problem is that the religions founded by
Mohammed and Jesus are antithetical to one another. The history of Islam
is one of conquest and control. When it constitutes a majority in
society, it will tolerate the followers of Jesus only in very strict and
humiliating conditions.
Christianity is more generous. It is more confident that when faced
with a choice between the warlord and the saviour, the human heart is
more vulnerable to love and forgiveness than it is to the presentation
of power and control.
