By now you’ve probably seen the shot from Houston.  If not, take a second and make yourself happy by watching it here.  Do it for yourself.

It’s ironic, of course, that the home of NASA’s “mission control” would be the place where a great deal of the Christian world claims the Gospel is going out of orbit.

I’ve been sitting on this post for a bit because I wanted to see the continual fall-out of this.  It’s no surprise that many church leaders across denominations are taking umbrage with VO’s remarks.  Article upon article, meme upon meme, floating around either point-by-point refuting her, or simply making fun of her.

I wouldn’t even call it “mocking.”  They’re not mocking her, they’re making fun of her.  Which is shameful. Mockery, actually, is a high form of critique.  Paul Woodruff notes this in Reverence, and I think he’s largely right.  Mockery actually takes the person seriously.

No.  I’ve seen people just more outright making fun of her.  Even Bill Cosby’s 40 year-old self has a response.

But, with all of this negative press, I’ve just been thinking of my Shakespeare. As Hamlet says, “Thou dost protest too much.”

In other words, I think much of the Christian world is so pissed about her words, so quick to say, “No way!  That’s not what we do. That’s not how it goes…” because underneath the skin, deep into the soul, there is a real fear that VO’s words are true.

True about the pastor who is quick to deride her for her words, and true for the parishioner sitting in the pew.

She meant them as prescriptive, of course.  But I take them, her words, as descriptive.

I mean, when we trumpet around that Christianity is all about “Jesus-and-me” for so long, are we really surprised that we are where we are here?  Osteen is not a theologian.  In fact, I dare to say she’s been raised and taught in the classroom of the pew her whole life.  Civil American Christian Religion has been a warm blanket for many pockets of society, and I’ve rarely if ever heard it seriously challenged from most pulpits.  And Victoria Osteen was just repeating what she’s heard her whole life, I think.

“Not from my church…” you might say.  But remember your church is one small thread in a whole tapestry of the Christian industrial complex, and whether or not you have heard it within your walls, I seriously doubt you’ve heard it challenged in any real, life-shaking way.

Why?  Because people might leave.  And no one wants to be down on a Sunday morning.  And we really do want it to be that personal, we really do want permission to be happy, and if we can’t get it from God, where can we get it from?

The theology of “feel good/do good” is a powerful force because it feeds a need within us to have permission to be happy and have a purpose.

That might be a bit cynical, which is not like me.  I’m an optimist, or at my best, one who lives on hope.

But sometimes when an opportunity comes to point at the emprorer’s pink parts because everyone caught a glimpse, a flash, of his nakedness, it’s important to take a moment and analyze the strong reactions we have.

Perhaps it’s because we realize that Christian culture has created these words, and Osteen is just repeating what she’s learned.

Perhaps it’s because deep down we realize that many do come to church to get their shot of Jesus, the drug of choice for many.

Perhaps it’s because deep down we realize that in many pockets of the world, VO’s message is exactly what people are hoping we’ll say from the pulpit on Sunday morning because one of the biggest motivators for us getting up in the morning is to chase that elusive rabbit of happiness in a dark hole existence.

…and it should be noted that there is nothing wrong with being happy, wanting to be happy, or searching for happiness in life.

But when we’ve turned that into the point of the Gospel, well, we can’t get mad when someone repeats it back to us.

And if that’s not the point of the Gospel, which I do not think it is, then instead of getting mad and making fun of Osteen (either of them), we should look at ourselves, our message, and realize that we’re largely sucking at getting it across effectively in many pockets of Christianity.

See, I think Victoria Osteen said something really true about Christianity today, and I think that our vehement reactions against her words are not just because we disagree with her assessment (which I truly do), but also because we know that she’s just, on TV, pointed out that the emperor is naked in many places.

Which means we have more work to do.

Osteen is not where the Gospel is going out of orbit.  Osteen is a product of a Gospel that is largely out of orbit, and has been for a long time.

Donald Sterling is a one-man study in insulation.

He should be an insulation salesman; he’s his own best example.

In his interview last night with Anderson Cooper, which I only was able to see part of (but a telling part), he convincingly argues for his own ineptitude without meaning to.

To him, he’s not hated by players.  To him, he’s not hated by fans.  And while he knows that he has done wrong and has “hurt many people,” he then proceeds to prove that he does not, in fact, know this in any way that might lead to behavior change because he starts berating Magic Johnson, the black community, and basic sensibility all in one fell swoop (see link above for the spectacularly terrible soundbite).

This shows me that either he is a) going slightly mad (not out of the realm of possibility) or b) absolutely insulated from the general public.

My hunch is “b”.

There are many insulators.  I think money is probably one of his greatest insulators.  With the ability to be taken everywhere by hired car, what need do you have to interact with anyone who you don’t hire or choose to spend time with?  When you can buy anything you want, including sexual partners, why bother with real relationships (like, say, the legal wife you have)?

One of the greatest things someone who wants to live an uninsulated life can do is take public transportation.  It is grounding.  In a good way.  In a way that makes me want to raise my kids in the city and have them do it.

Another one of his insulators he has is that he’s white.  It absolutely insulates him from a whole variety of perspectives and, wrongly, gives him the appearance that he’s one of many voices.  He is in fact a privileged voice among other voices.  This is the same mistake that poor college kid made when Time magazine picked up his article.  If you haven’t run across that news tidbit yet, please check it out.  It’s a perfect example of what self-righteousness will do to the young mind if given a platform. I suspect he’ll repent of that article in five years, if his education is worth anything and he lives vulnerably enough to see how asinine he is…

To be fair to that guy, no one should have any of their Freshman papers/thoughts published.  Ever.  His thoughts aren’t fully developed (I hope).

But back to Sterling.

Sterling suffers from insulation in a way that I see cultic Christianity suffering from insulation, too.  For an example, check out your local cinema. This abhorrent move God is Not Dead is just one example of the insulation problem that much of the church has.  A philosophy professor that throws down an ultimatum to stifle thought?  A Muslim girl who gets beat up by her father for conversion?  A last-ditch confession of said professor when it comes out that he doesn’t believe in God because of personal tragedy?

It’s the same reason that I stopped believing in Santa Claus: you don’t get that G.I. Joe action figure enough Christmases in a row, and you kind of get wise…

Except that those are all straw men.  They aren’t real people.  They’re fake elaborations on attributes that might be part of the make-up of a person.  But they’re not real.  It’s the same problem I have with Christopher Hitchens’ writings.  He writes of straw men.  Insulated Christianity and insulated atheism are two sides of the same coin.

But the delusion of these things being real can continue if a person is in isolation.  That’s what I worry about. Kind of like the delusion that Sterling has of himself.  Kind of like the delusion of homosexuality being a “choice.”  Much like I choose my heterosexuality, I guess…

All of these ideas can persist in a world where you don’t actually interact with anyone outside of your insulation zone.  Sterling’s problem isn’t one of bad publicity, it’s one of insulated publicity.  And it’s a cycle that perpetuates itself.  He never sees himself clearly because he doesn’t really have anyone of worth to reflect him back on himself, and because he can’t see himself clearly he becomes more and more the monster that he is.

Cultic Christianity is the same way.  Except with Christianity it has to do with interacting with others outside of the “Christian worldview” (whatever that means).  And it’s deadly because of this.  Deadly in that it creates a spirituality that is dead to it’s own self-righteousness.

And it’s a problem.  Not just because it results in crappy movies…that has been going on for years (looking at you Kirk Cameron).  It’s mostly a problem because it prevents the abundant life, the limitless life, that Christ talks about.  It’s dead life.

It’s why I encourage people to have friends across faith lines, cultural lines, all sorts of lines.  And not in an effort to convert them; that’s disingenuous.

Can’t you just experience the other where they are and *gasp* learn from that?

Part of the problem with insulation is that it gives the appearance of certitude.  Sterling is willing to admit he made a mistake, but he can’t see that he’s messed up.  He’s messed up as a human being, as part of a larger system of affluence and influence.

Christianity is messed up.  It’s made mistakes, but it really has to come out and say “We’re messed up.”  And not in the superficial way we say, “We’re a broken vessel just like everything in this world.”  But in a legitimate way that allows it to let go of the influence grip it has over people’s hearts and minds to open hearts to the greater world and greater life that God invites us to experience as Christ-followers.

Christ is our feed box, not our fence.

I am unapologetically Christian (reluctantly).

As part of that identity, though, I feel compelled to meet others where they are.  I feel compelled to tear down the insulation around me (and have it torn down), as best I can, and move out of my comfort zone into the dangerous place outside the walls of security and meet the other.

The church, at her best, can help people do this.  If only she’ll be vulnerable enough to admit she’s part of the system…