Jesus Hater
— Friday, August 11th, 2006 —
Guest Commentary by Robert E. Sagers
What is haunting Art Alexakis?
The frontman for the alternative rock group Everclear, Alexakis recently appeared on national television to defend the Portland, Oregon band’s latest music video, “Hater Jesus.”
In the video, Jesus Christ is depicted stealing from a blind beggar, drinking a fifth of liquor, tearing pages out of Scripture to use to roll marijuana joints, taking part in an orgy, and starting a fist-fight. All the while, he frequently checks his MySpace page on his Treo.
Blasphemous representations of Jesus are nothing new, especially among musicians, as pop and rap stars Madonna and Kanye West have recently demonstrated. But why an entire video devoted to “Hater Jesus” with a song that Alexakis says is all about the contentious divorce he went through two years ago? It’s because, he says, “this is a breakup song that I wanted to show a different face of hate. Everybody who goes through a breakup goes through a place where you’re sad, where you’re feeling lonesome, when you’re feeling hate,” Alexakis explained,”Well, this is the part when you’re feeling hate.”
And why does Hater Jesus who, in the video, wears a crown of thorns and exhibits a kryptonite-like fear of construction nails, go around performing so many acts of, well, hate? Because, Alexakis says, “he’s a representation of what Jesus could be if he had made the wrong choice.”
Alexakis and the rest of Everclear’s members apparently think that there are many Christians who act more like the fictional Hater Jesus than the Jesus of the Scripture. The video, which Everclear has dedicated to Religious Right leaders, can perhaps be more fully understood in light of Alexakis’s experience with his recently-deceased, born-again Christian mother.
“Her whole life after her youngest son became successful and started taking care of her and supporting her, would take the money that I gave her and send it to these people,” Alexakis said of his mom. “These people who claim to be men of God, who claim to be empowered by Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ wouldn’t have anything to do with these people.”
This is coming from a man who has written countless songs about a poverty-stricken, underprivileged childhood, during which he and his family went through the “joy” of many a “welfare Christmas.” It does seem that Alexakis thought that the money he gave his mother could have been more wisely spent than being donated to various Christian causes and organizations. And it also appears that, contrary to money being “the root of all that kills,” Alexakis thinks that material wealth is the primary source of happiness.
But this is also the same man who, weaved throughout many of his songs, exhibits a tremendous longing for his father. Perhaps Alexakis showed so much responsibility and care for his mother because his father never did. Displaying a truly evil patriarchy, Alexakis’s father apparently beat his wife and then abandoned his family, giving Art his name and then walking away.
It would be a mistake if we saw Art Alexakis’s rebellion and missed his longing. The idea that money or fame can fill the emptiness of a fatherless heart is a lie, but it is an easily believed lie. All around us are those, much less famous than Art Alexakis, who respond to Jesus’s question of “Who do you say that I am?” with three simple words: “You’re a hater.”
And yet, these people never see Jesus at all, because they believe that the one who won’t let them down, who won’t leave them, is not a real face at all, but a face printed on a hundred dollar bill. Mammon is a very persuasive god, and bitterness is a very seeker-sensitive form of worship for those who, like so many, have been hurt.
Let’s pray for churches who can demonstrate a Jesus who is more trustworthy than Mammon; more faithful than Hate (1 John 4:7-10).
Robert E. Sagers serves as research assistant to Russell D. Moore. He is a Master of Divinity student in the School of Theology at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Sagers is a native of West Linn, Oregon.
