Chances are, if you’re reading this blog, you’ve been there. It’s a formal meal, or a function, or something demanding a prayer, and all eyes turn towards…you. You know that feeling. When everyone expects you to commune with God on their behalf, when they expect something beautiful and profound to come from your lips… when they expect your faith to replace their own.

I’ve been that guy for six or seven years now in my family. Every Thanksgiving or Christmas, every Easter, I’m the one people turn to when it’s time to pray. For years, I never really questioned this, understanding that’s just my job. My family isn’t particularly spiritual or religious, so prayer has always just fallen to me. However, this year, I was troubled. I was confronted with what Peter Rollins calls “The Batman Principle.”

We all know the story of Batman. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire with an alter-ego. He spends his weekends fighting crime, beating up on the organized and unorganized criminals decimating his city. He fights them with the latest technologies, spending what must be millions of dollars on his batcave, batmobile, batsuit and many other tools with the prefix “bat.” Today’s understanding of economics though, has caused us to ask some new questions about Batman. Obviously, Batman is spending millions and millions of dollars on fighting crime, yet no one at Wayne Enterprises ever even raises an eyebrow at the money being spent. Which begs the question…exactly how profitable IS Wayne Enterprises? Obviously, this company is making so much money, it’s so profitable, that the millions of dollars being spent on Batman’s efforts aren’t even worth noticing. If anything, today’s climate has taught us one thing about big companies – if a company is clearing that much profit, somebody’s getting squeezed. Someone’s making an unfair wage, someone is getting pushed to the margins, someone is being taken advantage of. Which begs the question… Is Batman spending Monday through Friday creating the very enemies he fights on the weekends? In some way, do his efforts to fight crime act as a way to excuse his companies actions during the week?

For the Christian church, I’m afraid the problem looks similar. Do we allow the trappings of Christianity, the attendance at a church service on a Wednesday or Sunday, to compensate for our injust living during the week? Do we allow our measured participation in church to excuse our unchristian practices? In my case, I found that my family allowed my participation in faith to excuse their lack of participation, and so this year, I took a stand. When my mother looked at me to pray this holiday season, I flatly refused. It felt odd, refusing to pray, but when I realized that my family was using my spirituality as an excuse for their lack of relationship with God, well… I felt I didn’t have a choice. It was awkward to refuse. People looked at me. I said, “We can pray, or not, either way is fine with me, but I’m not going to pray.”

My mother’s eyes filled with surprise, confusion and even a little hurt. It was awkward. Yet, in the midst of these swirling emotions, my mom surprised me. She closed her eyes, grabbed the hands of my sister and I, and prayed. It was the first time in my life I’ve heard her pray. It was beautiful, amazing, and heart-wrenching all at the same time.

I have no idea what the future holds for my family. Whether they’ll discover God or not. Whether they’ll experience God’s love, forgiveness and grace or not. No clue. But I know this – they’ll no longer substitute my faith for their own. They’ll no longer pretend my words are theirs.

I’m starting to ask the question, how do my Christian practices actually excuse my own or another’s unchristian lifestyle or even beliefs? I’m beginning to wonder if being faithful sometimes means refusing to participate in faith. Then again, maybe I’m just pretending I have something in common with Batman…

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