I think Joel’s got it exactly right: Jesus asks his followers to act counterintuitively in ways that level the playing field and even preferentially treat the weak and poor. The world sees this as foolishness, but Jesus says that it is the kingdom coming.
Large groups of Christians have, as Joel has noted, unfortunately, picked up the wrong kind of foolishness. Joel cites anti-climate change teachings, which are the perfect example of a broader, longer trend: religiously-justified anti-intellectualism. The anti-science effort, in particular, is long-standing. Some Puritans, for example, objected to lightning rods because they were an effort to control the will of God. When Boston was struck with awful earthquakes in 1727 and 1755, many explained it as God’s punishment for people who thought they could avoid his punishment via lightning rods. (Some Amish sects today still forbid them out a belief that they are a sign of lack of belief in God’s providence.) The first generation of anti-vaxxers thought the same way: vaccinations were just an effort to thwart God, who might have wanted to smite you with smallpox. Such anti-intellectualism is foolish, but not in the way that makes the first last and the last first. In fact, anti-intellectualism today tends to be foolishness that destroys vulnerable populations in an effort to protect and bolster the wealthy—say, oil companies profiting at the expense of indigenous people and cultures.
Above, dinosaurs deny the reality of an asteroid about to hit the earth. A T-rex proclaims, “Fake asteroid!!!” and a triceratops says, “Lying media!!” as the asteroid approaches. Christians deny climate change to everyone’s peril.
Christians compound this foolishness when they use religion to justify anti-science and anti-intellectualism. Instead of being countercultural in ways that result in them loving their neighbors as themselves (the second greatest commandment), they fight against efforts to make life more peaceful and just. And then, they drag God into it.
Exodus 20:7 delivers this pretty important commandment: “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.” The NRSV is a bit clearer about what in vain means: “You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God.” The question then becomes What is the right use of God’s name?
For Christians, the New Testament shows us when people rightly and wrongly invoke God. The religious leaders of his day frequently got it wrong—like when they asked Jesus about whose wife a remarried widow would be in the afterlife or hoped to criticize him for healing on the Sabbath. They were invoking God, but their goal wasn’t to free the oppressed but to maintain the status quo, which harmed women and those with disabilities. Their use of “but religion says so!” wasn’t just vain (in the sense of pointless)—it was an effort to make trouble for those already burdened with troubles.
Above, Christ and the Adulteress by Titian, 1508-1510. The painting is in the collection at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, Glasgow Museums in Scotland. Trying to make trouble with the name of God, the religious leaders ask Jesus if they can stone a woman caught in adultery, as Moses said. Jesus is remarkably patient with them and instructs the one without sin to cast the first stone. In a rare moment, they seem to get it and leave the stones on the ground.
When political leaders today invoke God, you can almost always bet that they aren’t doing so to lift troubles from the shoulders of those already weary. Instead, they are being foolish—careless, wasteful, vain, wrong, mischief-making, exploitative—with God’s name. You can always tell by who their actions serve and who they harm.