And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. Matthew 21.12

The people of Mongolia are rediscovering their history. And it’s not a pretty picture.

As Bill Donahue reports in the September 1, 2010 issue of The Atlantic, Mongolia is entering into a period of “loosening-up” following so many years of Soviet repression. During those long years, Mongolia’s greatest hero, Ghengis (“Chingiss”) Khan was officially not to be mentioned. But since the end of the Soviet empire, Mongolians have begun to rediscover the great ravager big time.

From Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia’s capital (write that down for a later Jeopardy), civic leaders have begun to celebrate their hero in as many financially-feasible ways as possible. You can now order a Chingiss Khan beer at the local Irish pub, or play a round of golf at the Chingiss Khan Golf Country Club. There is a Genco company which exists to maximize the great one’s potential. If you’re feeling really adventurous, you can take the 35-mile trip to the great statue of the great one and camp at the Chingiss Khan campground or visit the Chingiss Khan living history museum. There’s even a rotunda which includes gift shops and an exclusive restaurant. As Bill Donahue observed, “everything inside the rotunda is calculated to impress and make money.” Evidently Mongolians have begun to hanker for the cha-ching of the cash register as much as any money-grubbing Westerner.

I find Mr. Donahue’s report rather sad and pathetic, that Mongolia should emerge from the tyranny of Soviet Marxism into the tyranny of getting-and-spending. And that they should use their great hero as a gimmick to cash in as many ways as they can, well, just makes it that much worse. Somebody needs to get a life.

But what saddened me most was my reaction when I read the quote above: “calculated to impress and make money.” If I’d glanced at that quote out of context, I’d have sworn the reporter was writing about a Christian book store – or “Christian store,” as many are now called, since selling books is strictly on the small end of their business.

Anything Jesus or Christian you might want, you can get there: book covers, book marks, prints, candy, jewelry, clothing, CDs, games, dolls and toys, and, oh yes, even some books – all of it emblazoned with official Christian logos and slogans, capitalizing (literally) by every means on two thousand years of martyrs and saints, going all the way back to the Lord Himself.

But then, I could be wrong, as I swore off going to such places around six or seven years ago. I think it was the “Testamints” rolled candy at the cash register that finally did me in. But it’s not just bookstores. Everything about many worship services and other “ministries” at local churches seems calculated to impress and make money as well. Get ‘em in and keep ‘em comin’ back by giving ‘em the finest in pop music and preaching lite.

I wish I could be kind and understanding about this. Well, not really. I find it disgusting, all this marketing of Christianity and pandering to pop. Jesus chic must be making the cash registers ring, however, because there is more of this rubbish being sold, and more churches are selling their souls to pop every year, or so it seems. But I could be wrong.

Bill Donahue decided to have a little lunch at the swank Chingiss Khan restaurant at the rotunda and statue. He was the only customer that day. He wrote, “I detected an undertone of desperation…A more plaintive voice seemed to whisper, ‘Believe in us, please. We’re trying very hard.’”

Is this the impression our much-marketed and desperately-contemporary version of the faith of Jesus is making on our neighbors? Well, I wonder.

T. M. Moore