‘So, Peter, you’ve become a pirate?’ – Wendy Darling
What happens when the boy who never grew up grows up?
That is the question at the heart of the movie Hook, Steven Spielberg’s 1991 sequel to Disney’s 1953 animated version of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan. At the start of the film, the adult Pan, played by Robin Williams, is a far cry from the scourge of pirates he once was. Years before, he had made the decision to grow up, and grow up he did. He has a family of his own, which is nice, but has lost his childlike spirit, his faith, his ability to fly. He has no memory of who he was. Living far from Neverland, the adult Pan has adapted to the ‘real world,’ adopted its practices, become adept in its ways, and forsaken his true self. On a visit to the now elderly Wendy Darling, with whom he once had grand adventures (Pan is now married to her granddaughter) he explains that the business that keeps him from visiting more often involves ‘mergers and acquisitions,’ i.e., he has become a corporate raider. This provokes a shocked and disappointed Wendy to speak the words in the epigraph to this post: ‘So, Peter, you’ve become a pirate.’ The once great Pan who conquered pirates has become very thing he once fought.
This sad tale of Peter Pan growing up came to mind recently after a conversation with a friend, wherein I found myself remarking that if the early disciples of Jesus were to visit Christians in America today, they would likely mistake many of us for Romans. The early disciples knew all about Romans. They lived under their rule. The Romans believed that the way to change the world was from the top down; seize power and impose your will on everyone below you. Theirs was the way of violence; they used force whenever they deemed it expeditious to ensure the ascendency of their cause and the defeat of their enemies. In a Roman world, if you wanted something, you made it happen, by any means necessary. The Roman way was, if I may stick with the Peter Pan analogy, the way of the pirate, the way of the sword. And they pulled it off quite well.
Jesus however, had taught his disciples another way. Once, when his disciples attempted to shoo some kids away, he said, ‘let the little children come to me, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.’ On another occasion, he remarked that unless a person became like a little child, they could not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus, in other words, told his followers to stay young, to refrain from ‘growing up.’ They were not to make things happen by any means necessary; they were to live as children, trusting in their Heavenly Father to lead them through the ups and downs of life. They were not to become violent to advance causes or defeat enemies; they were to love enemies and leave the future to God. They were not to seize power and impose their will on others from above; they were to become servants and make the world a better place from the bottom up. Theirs would not be the way of the pirate, the way of the sword. It would be the way of the cross, the way of the Lamb.
And for a time, Jesus disciples pulled it off quite well. Even as the Roman pirates threatened and attacked, as happened for centuries, they insisted on being, to borrow Rich Mullins’ phrase, ‘children who loved while the nations raged.’ Their response to a world arrayed against their beliefs and values was not to attack, but to love and serve. As threats mounted, they simply drew closer to Jesus. They continued, like children, to trust that he and their Heavenly Father would take care of them, and that such an approach to life would work. They believed that God was in control, and that one day they would be rewarded for their faithfulness, for their refusal to become pirates themselves, as they witnessed the return of Christ and the restoration of all things. And so, like faithful children, they continued on their way, refusing to become pirates.
But somewhere along the line, the Church decided to grow up. Like Peter Pan, it adapted to the ‘real world,’ adopting its practices, becoming adept in its ways, forsaking its true self. The Church grew powerful. It no longer sat at the bottom but stood on top, and from its privileged position began to impose its will from the top down. It even employed violence, pursuing any means necessary to advance its goals and defeat its enemies. It became a church of pirates.
Not all Christians went along, of course. Some remained faithful, and these inspired renewal movements to draw the Church back to her original vision, to the time when the Church was young. These met with some success, but sadly, as the train of history shows, far too often, the dominant branches of the Church continued to behave like pirates.
Like Romans.
And so, the comment to my friend. Look around you, American Christian. What do you see? A Pirate Church. Tens of millions of professing Jesus followers embracing the Roman way. Christians attempting to seize power that they might rule from above, forging unholy alliances with unscrupulous characters in an attempt to have their way. A willingness to employ (or at least excuse) any means necessary, even violence, to achieve desired ends. A willingness to sell their souls to stand on top and ‘own’ those below them. A willingness to distort the very teachings of Jesus to the point that they would be unrecognizable to him or the early disciples if they were to show up today.
Yes, if the early disciples could see us now, I have no doubt they would mistake many in what passes for the Church in America for Romans. They would wonder what went wrong. They would say, with tears in their eyes, ‘So, Church, you’ve become the empire.’
That such a reaction is plausible is cause for lamentation. Sackcloth and ashes. And yet, the situation is not without hope.
Well, we are children no more
We have sinned and grown old
But our Father still waits
And He watches down the road
To see the crying boys
Come running back to His arms.[1]
Repentance, homecoming, is still an option. It is possible, if not for the whole Church, at least for a significant portion of it, to grow young again. To recapture what it means to be young in Christ. To become children who trust and obey as we follow the way of the Lamb.
Could such a rebirth be possible? Oh yes. Just watch Hook. There, the adult Peter Pan rediscovers what it means to possess childlike faith. He learns how to believe again. He learns how to fly.
Christians, if we would be worthy of that name, it’s time to become children. It’s time to believe again. It’s time to fly.
It’s time to grow young.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
[1] Rich Mullins, from his song, Growing Young, which along with Hook inspired this post.
