“You’re a bad Hindu!”
The rebuke provoked laughter, but musing about it later inspired some thoughts that intrigued me. The young man did not say that his friend was a bad person but a bad Hindu. What’s a bad Hindu? I suppose it’s someone who professes Hinduism but eats beef – or, more generally, who does what his religion forbids or does not do what it commands.
We can extend the principle. What’s a bad Jew? A bad Jew eats pork and does not have his son circumcised. A bad Muslim drinks whiskey and neglects to pray five times a day. A bad vegan downs a pepperoni pizza. A bad communist exploits market forces to enrich herself at the expense of the poor. A bad Christian does what megachurch preachers have been doing these days.
So what’s a bad atheist?
That’s a tough one. I imagine a bad atheist sneaks off to prayer meetings on Wednesday nights to intervene for the souls of the lost. He hopes nobody finds out that he donates to Wycliffe Bible Translators. Under the floorboards of his room he has hidden a stash of gospel tracts, and in weak moments he goes to distant neighborhoods to hand out Christian literature. He crosses himself when he drives by a church.
That is to say, I don’t think there are any bad atheists. Of course there are atheists who are bad people, but they’re not bad atheists. The reason is simple. Atheism, as atheism, commands nothing of its adherents and forbids nothing to them. There is nothing to be bad about – no higher power to offend, no canon law to transgress, no sacred writing to desecrate, no holy name to blaspheme, no faith-communal expectations to fulfill. Atheism grants its partisans a privileged status – one that renders hypocrisy a sin almost impossible to commit.
For that reason atheists can target religious people’s inconsistencies all day long while remaining invulnerable to return fire. It seems a little unfair. If a pastor or priest does something bad you will hear about it, because the shockwaves resonate through churches and the media. But if a serial pedophile or school shooter turns out to have no religious affiliation, you will probably not be directly informed of the fact. It will go unnoticed because it isn’t news. You have never heard someone say, “How strange! She feared no God and thought the 10 commandments were a man-made concoction – who would imagine she could do such a terrible thing?” Everyone knows that wicked actions and nihilistic unbelief are not intrinsically incompatible. That is why you have heard tales of abusive nuns but not abusive Nones. The former is newsworthy while the latter is a shrug and a “What did you expect?”
I’m not complaining about the imbalance that makes “bad Christian” a recognizable category and “bad atheist” a nonentity. If I call attention to atheist privilege it is not out of envy or pique. I actually think the dichotomy reveals a healthy dynamic, and I hope it is maintained. I want people to expect more of Christians and be outraged when they misbehave. The name Christian comes with – and ought to come with - loads of expectations so heavy that only Jesus would call them “light” (Matthew 11:30), and it demands a self-discipline so rigorous that only God’s constant supply of grace could sustain it.
I’m a Christian. Ultimately it is for God to determine if I’m a good or a bad one. But as a Christian I believe that Jesus rose from the dead, and his word is absolute, and one day I shall appear before him to render account of deeds done in the body. Among other things, that means I must daily honor my Master by loving my enemies, telling the truth, helping the weak, opposing injustice, refraining from self-indulgence, and just generally shunning the vices that tempt me while struggling to attain the virtues that are alien to my nature.
And if I fail, then friend and foe alike would have every right to label me a bad Christian. And that would be no laughing matter.
