Long ago Hosea gave some advice: "Take with you words and turn to the Lord." Today we take some tragically misplaced words such as "character," "honor," and "integrity," as well as their post-modern reincarnations as the "right thing," the "right stuff," and the "right one," and once again turn to the Lord.
At the time of this writing probably the hottest new media blitz is the stylish and witty Diet Pepsi commercials. With the aid of jazz great Ray Charles, these musical ditties proclaim, "You got the Right One baby, Uh-huh!"
It is an ingenious advertising idea that verges on the subliminal: Take one of the most common phrases used in the English language and design a marketing campaign around it so that whenever anyone says "Uh-huh" they will think either consciously or subconsciously of Diet Pepsi. You might tell your people that this sermon is an exercise in theological deprogramming, so that when they say this phrase from now on they will think of something more true and good than Diet Pepsi. You should also get the congregation to say out loud at least once, "Uh-huh." Indeed, if I were preaching this sermon I would engage in some interactive preaching by announcing to them that whenever they heard these words "the right one, baby?" they were to respond by saying either "Uh-huh!" (i.e., yes) or Uh-uh!" (i.e., no).
Before the small screen discovered the marketing potential of the "right," there was irreverent director Spike Lee's smash big-screen hit of the early 90s urging a confused generation in confusing situations to "Do the Right Thing." Even the feel-good, extravagant 80s examined its own quest for this elusive quality in yet another film, "The Right Stuff."
Yet instead of successfully touching our own interior character, these three forays into the search for "rightness" have simply become cliched components of everyday conversation. The "Uh-huh" soft drink scions are not convincing us to choose on the basis of quality - they only offer a slick image with no content. A recent Roper poll of 1,496 U.S. consumers found that 52 percent said they would pay 10 percent more for so-called socially responsible products and 67 percent said they are concerned about a company's social performance when they shop. More and more people are wanting to pick "the right one" when they shop (Newsweek, 7 January 1991, 42). But all Madison Avenue advertisers offer the consumer is image. You got the right one, baby? (Hope they say "Uh uh!")
The "right thing" touted in Spike Lee's film wavers on the wispy barometer of current popular opinion. It touts almost a characterless character. No wonder the street kids confront their world with ambivalence one minute and explosive anger the next. Paul Faber writes in the Reformed Journal ("Arguments Above, "July 1981): "I am not a biblical scholar, but I cannot recall any passage that says, 'Thus saith the Lord: Everybody is entitled to his own opinion.' I do not read that Christ ever responded to the Pharisees by saying, 'Though I do not agree, yours is a valid interpretation.' We do not read these things because if one believes that there is truth and that what is not true is false, then one takes seriously ... the attempt to find the truth' (4). Is the right one the "right thing"? Do we have here the right one, baby? (Again, hope they say "Uh-uh!")
Typical of the last decade's love affair with gimmicks and its "gimme" attitude, it is difficult to discern what exactly is the "right stuff" in that film's tale of the American space program. Is the right stuff the astronauts with nerves of steel, or is it the sleek and daring machines they develop to aid them in the exploration of the new frontier beyond our atmosphere? "Stealing God's Stuff' is a phrase coined by E. B. White to refer to the way we easily get in the act of "playing God." Technology is the quickest route we have to "stealing God's stuff. " Is the "right one" the "right stuff?" Do we have yet the right one, baby? (Again, hope they say "Uh-uh!")
Too often we let the world's definitions determine what versions of the "truth" the church will offer, even to the point of accommodating fanciful standards of moral behavior and character. Today, for example, many perceive personal and communal "integrity" as a luxury they simply can no longer afford. For these the "Golden Rule" (Do unto others as you would have them do unto you), long observed mainly in the breech, has pitched down a steeply declining grade of mineral - defined by cheapened values and identified by cheaper ores. There is the "Silver Rule" - "Do unto others as they have already done unto you. " Then the "Bronze Rule" - "Do unto others as you fully expect them to do unto you. " Then the "Copper Rule" - "Do unto others before they do unto you." And finally the "Iron Rule" - "Do unto others and cut out." These latter rules fit all too precisely into our current, competitive, cut-throat culture.
Goethe said that "Character is the sum of all I have struggled with." Ingredients in the continuing struggle to construct character include developing a vision and a purpose, a vision to always stand before you, a purpose to always stand beside you. Coupled with these must be ambition and disciplined aim and action that work in tandem with that purposeful vision. Tempering all these must be a moral quality that looks to the common good, not just self-interest. Even a tornado can be said to have ambition and action. But it has no good purpose, and it certainly does not consider the common good as a valid objective.
From this week's gospel text Pilate's words in verse 35 accuse the character of the Jews, ("I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.") while betraying his own weakness of character and indecision. Even though the Jews had abrogated their right to deal with Jesus, Pilate refused to shoulder the moral weight of this peculiar matter. All those in positions of authority found themselves shuffling their feet and pointing to the other guy for the final word.
Not one person or group with power could bring themselves to stand against this snowballing forfeiture of justice. It was easier for the religious authorities to pass Jesus over to the Roman political machine. The civil rulers then feigned ignorance of the injustice because they were not Jewish and thus were incapable of properly understanding the issue. Notwithstanding everyone's protestations to the contrary, Jesus stood alone in the room as the only person with a clear conscience. It is still often that case today, as we find ourselves mouthing reasonable explanations and excuses while our souls squirm within our narrow minds.
Jesus' answer to Pilate's final query about his kingship must have hit home, stabbing deeply beneath Pilate's thin protective shell of official duty. I have come, Jesus declares, to "testify to the truth" as he affirms that "everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice" (vs. 37). But disciples are not automatically assigned a high moral character. Nor do they automatically receive a heightened sense of truth, integrity or rightness when they join the church. The struggle to hear Jesus' voice of truth remains one which takes our full attention for the entire duration of our discipleship.
Jesus is the right stuff! Jesus did the right thing! You got the right one, baby? Uh-Huh!