When the Mighty Fall

Baron Black of Crossharbour has downsized his living arrangements from mansion to prison cell. Conrad Black, newspaper mogul, king of the hobnob, British citizen – who voluntarily revoked his Canadian citizenship in protest because then Prime Minister Jean Chretien would not bless his call to peerage in the British House of Lords – is now bringing the Ritz to an American penitentiary for fraud. He is a man of varied international abode.

In Canada Black’s little visit to the big house makes front page headlines in the very national rag he founded. Even more fun, Conrad has become a smug, stuffy, and rich punching bag for columnists and comedians alike. Smug is brought low and we’re all gleefully amused by his Icarus-like fall from the heights.

From Lord Black and Enron to Martha Stewart and Brittany Spears this culture that worships Mammon boisterously celebrates the removal of any ahead of us at the altar. Of course, each of these vilified corporate/celebrity monsters broke the law or, in Spears case, abundantly show that make-up hides more than first imagined and sexy clothes don’t reveal nearly enough. These are troubled souls who seem convinced they are above the law and abuse wealth while schmoozing with people like them, who probably don’t really like them at all. Meanwhile, the rest of us feast on check-out aisle paparazzi and sensationalism, gorging our morbid curiosities and need for a distraction from our own inconsistencies and wishful thinking. Black’s fall makes us feel less concerned with our own shortcomings.

I have no desire to defend what the Baron of Crossharbour has done; far from it. He is the glossy poster-boy of wealth, power, injustice and selfishness run amuck. Yet, at the same time I find myself mourning for Conrad and his ilk wondering, what is a true Christ-centered response to these modern day Zacchaeuses and Rich Young Rulers?

Jesus’ interaction with professional level criminals like Zacchaeus was strikingly straight-forward and redemptive. He never ignored his misguided idolatry nor the need for abundance to be generously and justly shared, but at the same time he didn’t protest outside his doors. Instead he entered them. He walked into relationship, supping in Zaccheaus’ lap of luxury for the sake of redemption. In the case of the Rich Young Ruler he looked with compassion, even pity, on humanity crippled by a lie and curse.

So, as our culture – and even some in the Church – enjoy watching the mighty fall, I am wondering how my response can be more redemptive, grace-filled, and compassionate without abandoning the prophetic call to new life and new living in and because of Christ. How, pray tell, will evil become righteous without a willingness of those graciously redeemed to see rich and poor, oppressed and oppressor, prince and pauper through the eyes of Jesus who compassionately and prophetically related to the one and championed the unfathomable need of the other. Both, it seems from the life of the Son of God, deserved to be loved and freed in opposite directions – directions that converged in his abundance and his poverty.