Finding the Prize

This Easter, I would like to launch a competition. This is possibly a bit unorthodox, but I am reliably informed that lack of orthodoxy can be valuable if it bounces us out of an assortment of ruts into which we have comfortably settled. So here goes...

I don't know how you feel about art, more specifically about religious art. As a child of the Baptist church, I personally feel a bit uncomfortable on entering those highly ornate churches where you find yourself surrounded by images of the Madonna and child, of saints (suffering or ecstatic), and graphic depictions of the crucifixion. The words "idols" and "graven images" spring to mind. But I respond very differently when I come face to face with the work of the greatest religious painters of the past. The Giottos and the Caravaggios have the power to move me strangely and intensely.

More than just theology
Which brings me back to thoughts of Easter. If someone asks me about the meaning of Easter (which they occasionally do), I will say something like: "Jesus Christ, who was the Son of God, was crucified in order to save mankind from the consequences of their rebellion against God. Because God is holy and just, he must punish wrongdoing, so Christ, knowing that on our own, humans are hopeless and helpless in the face of God's holy anger, chose out of love to sacrifice himself in our place, thereby taking the punishment for our rebellion and letting us off the hook".

This would be a brief, but I hope reasonably accurate statement of the theology. But would it grab them personally? Would it stop them in their tracks and make their hearts beat faster? Would it make them drop to their knees, literally or metaphorically in humble amazement and gratitude that the Son of God would die to save them when he didn't have to and they didn't deserve it? Probably not.

I think much of the problem lies with the concept of sacrifice. To an older generation, the word sacrifice almost certainly conjures memories of the dead of two world wars; of wearing poppies and laying wreaths on war memorials "lest we forget" the sacrifice of those who died so we could live in freedom. It may also remind them of sacrifices made by parents on low incomes to give their children advantages they never had, or by unmarried children to care for elderly relatives. What resonance, if any, does the word sacrifice have for those born in late 20th century Western Europe?

A challenge to materialism
In this rational, sceptical, materialistic age, there is something old-fashioned and somehow not quite sane about the whole concept of sacrifice. What is the belief system underpinning modern market capitalism? It is that individuals will act according to enlightened self-interest. Not much room for sacrifice there. And I remember thinking, as a politics student at the LSE, that the singularly unattractive Marxist philosophy of historical materialism on which Communism is based didn't encourage much in the way of free will or love for others either. Plenty of people were sacrificed under Communist regimes in the name of a greater good, but that is not at all the same thing.

So what is to be done? How are we to penetrate the secular armour of our friends and neighbours? I managed to engage a non-Christian friend of mine, who is a journalist, in a discussion over lunch about the idea behind this article, and was surprised at the enthusiasm with which she set about trying to think of ways of conveying the power of Christ's sacrifice on the cross. We traded examples that we could call to mind, from books, films and news reports, of people who had made the supreme sacrifice.

The power of the image
I told her about a film I had seen once long ago set somewhere in south-east Asia towards the end of the Second World War. Yet another film about the sufferings of British and Australian servicemen in a Japanese prison camp – I don't remember the name of the film, but then I never do. At one point, the Japanese commandant signals he is about to execute a young British squaddy for some misdemeanor or other. The hapless soldier was a particularly unappealing individual: lazy, disrespectful and displaying no loyalty to his comrades, but obviously in an agony of fear at the prospect of death. The Christian Chaplain asks to speak privately to the Japanese officer and it suddenly becomes clear at the same moment, both to us watching the film and to the participants in the scene that the Chaplain has offered to die in the soldier's place and his offer has been accepted.

What happens next has engraved itself on my memory and I could see the visible shock on my friend's face, even in the retelling over a lunch table in a café. The Japanese commandant had confiscated the Chaplain's Christian books and his eye was caught by an illustration of Christ on the cross. Horror dawns on us all: on the audience, on the other prisoners, and on the poor Chaplain, as we realize the Japanese are hastily assembling a rudimentary cross. They drag the Chaplain to the edge of the compound, nail him to the cross, hoist him up and leave him to die in view of his comrades. I wondered whether the actor who played the Chaplain had turned to the Bible's account of Christ's crucifixion to help him decide how it might be to die on a cross, because I have to say that the agonized arch of his body, the frantic movements of his head, and the copious spray of sweat and saliva were utterly convincing.

So there is one image, admittedly secular but with a strong Christian symbolism, which got under the skin of one atheist. Perhaps it is film which must take the place of Raphael and Michelangelo, of Caravaggio and Bernini, if we want to bypass the merely intellectual communication of the Gospel and make people understand that Christ died for them, because he loved them, because there was nothing he would not do to save them and that it doesn't matter how unappealing or undeserving they are.

Speak to the heart
Music is another thing which does it for me. I am fully intellectually persuaded of the truth of the Gospel, but as a person I am more than mere intellect. There is one short, unassuming little song to be found in TRC praise, which takes the theological content of the Gospel and delivers it straight to my heart – number 93.

"Jesus Christ, I think upon your sacrifice, You became nothing, poured out to death. Many times I've wondered at your gift of life And I'm in that place once again.

And once again I look upon The cross where you died, I'm humbled by your mercy And I'm broken inside. Once again I thank you; By your death you've given me life."

So, back to this competition. All ideas for ways of communicating the true power and personal significance of the Easter story will be gratefully received and considered for practical application. Oh, and on the question of prizes...I can confidently say that nothing I could give you, not even if I were Bill Gates himself with all his billions, would come close to the prize you will receive from the Lord Jesus Christ when you find a way of trusting yourself to him - mind, body and soul.