To Treasure Christ & Atticus Finch
Do you treasure Christ?
You get his message. You hear the gospel reading and you likely nod along. Yes, as Jesus notes, treasuring material things is a sad predicament. We can only gather so much, and we know deep in our hearts we can’t take it with us. What’s more, material things don’t embrace us or cry with us in our grief.
To treasure material wealth means a sad, empty existence.
Thankfully most of us treasure simpler things – the togetherness of our families, the enjoyment of a meal with friends, the love and companionship of a life partner.
But let me ask you and myself, too – do we treasure Christ?
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this metaphor, the metaphor of a water tank and a fish. For a fish, the water it swims in is all there is. Water for a fish is essential to its existence. The water it swims in is its world.
To treasure Christ means to value him so much that he becomes the water, the living water, we swim in.
The Evangelical Christian tradition informed my childhood and my rearing in profound ways. Our faith and our church were the water my family swam in. Faith and church defined our world.
My family all remain within the Evangelical church world. Most of them would wholeheartedly agree that Christ and his church remain the waters they swim in. Christ and his church are the center of their worlds. Church isn’t just a place they go to on Sundays. It defines who they are.
Now, there’s a danger in this. I experienced it firsthand. What if the waters I swim in become toxic to me and I want to swim in different waters? If I decide to do that, I leave my whole world behind. Trust me, that is really, really hard. Who wants to lose their whole world? Who enjoys what that feels like? It’s also hard for that world to see you go. That world you leave behind doesn’t know what to do, really. "How can you reject what defines me and is so perfect," the idea goes. Often, the one who leaves is shunned either directly or indirectly.
That said, when it comes to the matter of faith and the following of Christ, Christ and his church ought to be the water we as Christians swim in. Christ should be so treasured that he defines our worlds.
It seems to me as a relative newcomer to the Mainline world, the Mainline church, which we are a part of, in many ways finds this kind of treasuring of Christ difficult. Maybe I’m wrong, but the notion that Christ and the church are the waters our lives swim in seems less ubiquitous. Christianity and the church is something we do, not who we are.
Let me use a literary figure to get at what I'm trying to say.
Atticus Finch. Remember him? He’s the lawyer in the Harper Lee's classic novel and the film based on it, To Kill a Mockingbird.
Atticus Finch is portrayed as a man of profound moral integrity, courage, and compassion. His profound sense of justice and fairness moves him to defend Tom Robinson, a Black man falsely accused of assaulting a white woman. Finch does so at great cost. In the racist culture surrounding him in Maycomb, Alabama, defending a Black man is a treacherous thing to do. It can cost you your life, a real threat Atticus experiences in the story.
However, to Black people in Maycomb, as well as more progressive minded folks there, Finch epitomizes kindness, compassion. He is the just lawyer standing up for what is right, even when it’s hard. Folks know Finch as an honorable, just figure in the community.
Scout, Atticus’ daughter, narrates the story. Interestingly, Scout and her brother Gem call their father by his first name, Atticus.
Yes, Scout sees Atticus as an honorable, just figure, too. But she knows him as her father. Their relationship goes far, far deeper than community observer. Scout knows Atticus as father and even friend whom she as a daughter treasures. Atticus, his love, his guidance, are the waters she, her childhood, swim in.
Mainline churches like ours do well honoring Christ and his fight for a more compassionate and just society. Like Scout seeing her father doing right in his community, we adore Jesus as a nonviolent warrior for love and justice.
Our Evangelical brothers and sisters, on the other hand, struggle with this honoring of Christ, often dismissing his stand for social equality and justice. They struggle with Jesus, the prophet. This is like Scout seeing Atticus Finch as just a loving father at home yet glossing over his struggle for justice and equality in the community.
Evangelicals thrive in the mystic bond with Christ.
But I’d dare say Mainliners struggle with Christ as our personal refuge and redeemer. We struggle with the necessity of a close, intimate, daily relationship with Christ. Deep, personal devotion to Christ, a treasuring of Christ as our eternal father, brother, and son, that we find more difficult.
You get his message. You hear the gospel reading and you likely nod along. Yes, as Jesus notes, treasuring material things is a sad predicament. We can only gather so much, and we know deep in our hearts we can’t take it with us. What’s more, material things don’t embrace us or cry with us in our grief.
To treasure material wealth means a sad, empty existence.
Thankfully most of us treasure simpler things – the togetherness of our families, the enjoyment of a meal with friends, the love and companionship of a life partner.
But let me ask you and myself, too – do we treasure Christ?
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this metaphor, the metaphor of a water tank and a fish. For a fish, the water it swims in is all there is. Water for a fish is essential to its existence. The water it swims in is its world.
To treasure Christ means to value him so much that he becomes the water, the living water, we swim in.
The Evangelical Christian tradition informed my childhood and my rearing in profound ways. Our faith and our church were the water my family swam in. Faith and church defined our world.
My family all remain within the Evangelical church world. Most of them would wholeheartedly agree that Christ and his church remain the waters they swim in. Christ and his church are the center of their worlds. Church isn’t just a place they go to on Sundays. It defines who they are.
Now, there’s a danger in this. I experienced it firsthand. What if the waters I swim in become toxic to me and I want to swim in different waters? If I decide to do that, I leave my whole world behind. Trust me, that is really, really hard. Who wants to lose their whole world? Who enjoys what that feels like? It’s also hard for that world to see you go. That world you leave behind doesn’t know what to do, really. "How can you reject what defines me and is so perfect," the idea goes. Often, the one who leaves is shunned either directly or indirectly.
That said, when it comes to the matter of faith and the following of Christ, Christ and his church ought to be the water we as Christians swim in. Christ should be so treasured that he defines our worlds.
It seems to me as a relative newcomer to the Mainline world, the Mainline church, which we are a part of, in many ways finds this kind of treasuring of Christ difficult. Maybe I’m wrong, but the notion that Christ and the church are the waters our lives swim in seems less ubiquitous. Christianity and the church is something we do, not who we are.
Let me use a literary figure to get at what I'm trying to say.
Atticus Finch. Remember him? He’s the lawyer in the Harper Lee's classic novel and the film based on it, To Kill a Mockingbird.
Atticus Finch is portrayed as a man of profound moral integrity, courage, and compassion. His profound sense of justice and fairness moves him to defend Tom Robinson, a Black man falsely accused of assaulting a white woman. Finch does so at great cost. In the racist culture surrounding him in Maycomb, Alabama, defending a Black man is a treacherous thing to do. It can cost you your life, a real threat Atticus experiences in the story.
However, to Black people in Maycomb, as well as more progressive minded folks there, Finch epitomizes kindness, compassion. He is the just lawyer standing up for what is right, even when it’s hard. Folks know Finch as an honorable, just figure in the community.
Scout, Atticus’ daughter, narrates the story. Interestingly, Scout and her brother Gem call their father by his first name, Atticus.
Yes, Scout sees Atticus as an honorable, just figure, too. But she knows him as her father. Their relationship goes far, far deeper than community observer. Scout knows Atticus as father and even friend whom she as a daughter treasures. Atticus, his love, his guidance, are the waters she, her childhood, swim in.
Mainline churches like ours do well honoring Christ and his fight for a more compassionate and just society. Like Scout seeing her father doing right in his community, we adore Jesus as a nonviolent warrior for love and justice.
Our Evangelical brothers and sisters, on the other hand, struggle with this honoring of Christ, often dismissing his stand for social equality and justice. They struggle with Jesus, the prophet. This is like Scout seeing Atticus Finch as just a loving father at home yet glossing over his struggle for justice and equality in the community.
Evangelicals thrive in the mystic bond with Christ.
But I’d dare say Mainliners struggle with Christ as our personal refuge and redeemer. We struggle with the necessity of a close, intimate, daily relationship with Christ. Deep, personal devotion to Christ, a treasuring of Christ as our eternal father, brother, and son, that we find more difficult.
This is the thing, as I wrap this up: the Christian life calls for both.
We are called to be like Scout who sees Atticus Finch for what he is in the community - the compassionate, just, courageous lawyer making things better for vulnerable people. But we’re also called to be like Scout who daily treasures and cultivates the father-daughter bond. Scout admires Atticus the public figure, and has a personal, loving relationship with him as her father.
To treasure Christ means to both admire Christ for the transformative prophet he was, and to love Christ as our personal redeemer and friend, growing in our relationship with him daily.
Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. To treasure Christ means to give him your heart. To treasure Christ means to swim in the living waters he is. How’s our swimming going?
We are called to be like Scout who sees Atticus Finch for what he is in the community - the compassionate, just, courageous lawyer making things better for vulnerable people. But we’re also called to be like Scout who daily treasures and cultivates the father-daughter bond. Scout admires Atticus the public figure, and has a personal, loving relationship with him as her father.
To treasure Christ means to both admire Christ for the transformative prophet he was, and to love Christ as our personal redeemer and friend, growing in our relationship with him daily.
Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. To treasure Christ means to give him your heart. To treasure Christ means to swim in the living waters he is. How’s our swimming going?
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