waiting for the carpathia

I read somewhere -- don’t remember where -- that the Titanic would have been better off if, instead of swerving, it hit the iceberg head-on. I have no idea if this is true, but it offers an interesting metaphor. Christianity, in its malleability, has swerved, zig-zagged, veered and tacked to accommodate itself to a consumer culture. (I am very much a part of this.) There are many absurd examples to draw upon, but one will serve: the prosperity gospel, as preached by Joel Osteen. This is what has fallen out of the gash in the side, what has spewed from the bowels of the ship? That the gospel is about getting yours? Why aren’t we rolling around on the floor laughing at this? To say the gospel is about getting rich is like saying Ulysses is a guide book to Dublin. And yet, in its brilliant and startling contradiction -- not paradox, contradiction -- it goes on uncontested. It goes uncontested, perhaps, because mainstream Christianity is in lifeboats, singing old hymns, pretending they are still on a cruise ship. There is applause from the lifeboat every time a signal flare goes up, mistaking it for yet another triumphalist celebration. As the minutes tick off, there is new meaning to the words God’s frozen chosen. No sense in redecorating the lifeboat. Better to huddle together. The signal has been sent to the Carpathia. Now, there is only the waiting. Which is no small task.