Easy, Feel-good, Good-times, Rock'n'Roll Religion

Since when did feeling good overtake being good? And when did substance begin to pale to polish? When did the gospel start needing labels like "mega", "emergent" or "inclusive" to qualify it as relevant? Why does discriminating no longer mean discernment and sound judgment but instead screams "bigot!" Arriving on the other side of Easter, I wonder...

Coming into Eastertide, I suppose the pain and suffering of Jesus on our behalf is easy to gloss over with so much as a shiny, plastic egg. But, even just a quick glance over my shoulder and I see them there—John and Mary, Christ's mother, with Mary Magdelene holding the giver of life's lifeless form. It's the gruesome reality of the ravages of sin and the gut-wrenching realization that the one who bore it all was, himself, sinless. The depth of the love of Jesus, the supremacy of his power to overcome sin and death, and the offer of his sacrifice as grace to us all is the force of Eastertide. It's the reason we can move beyond the pinned-down hellishness of Good Friday to the uncontainable joy now set before us. It's a very costly freedom, and oh how quickly we forget.

In my observation of the American church of late, it appears we prefer to forget the passion that brought us to the party. We want it all—except for the in the trenches messy stuff. Please don't misunderstand, church is a place to feel good. I have had many moments of deepest comfort and joy in church. But, church is also a place to get your hands dirty. It is the place from which we are sent to both tend the fields and bear fruit in keeping with repentance. I don't know about you, but I have never seen a gardener with clean fingernails.

Not long ago, Tulsa's own Carlton Pearson rebranded his theology with a "Doctrine of Inclusion." Simply put, it cuts the gospel off at the knees to give everyone a free pass into heaven. No muss. No fuss. No repentance necessary. God has not only paid the bill, he's paid the cover charge. Just one question sir, "What, then, is the point?" Pack it up and stay home Mr. Pearson. Spare us the hefty carbon footprint of your facilities, and save the electricity used to broadcast your services on NPR.

But, don't order yet! There's more! In addition to being saved without even really thinking about it, you can have "Your Most Abundant Life Now!" Joel Osteen preaches in an easy, breezy, bff way with just enough "bless me Jesus" to make it sound like a real sermon. Sorry Joel, to single you out. In reality, the name it and claim it crowd has been around for a while. Google "prosperity gospel" and you'll see a roll call of the usual suspects, Creflo Dollar, Kenneth and Gloria Copeland, Benny Hinn, Joyce Meyer and don't forget, Paul and Jan Crouch. The premise is that I can will God's abundance to myself, because if I say it and believe it, God is bound to me to do it. Pastor Gary E. Gilley writes of this movement, "In Word Faith religion, the believer is told to use God, whereas the truth of biblical Christianity is just the opposite, God uses the believer. Word Faith or prosperity theology sees the Holy Spirit as a power to put to use for whatever the believer wills. The Bible teaches that the Holy Spirit is a Person who enables the believer to do God's will."(1)

Don't call just yet! We'll also include a gospel so comfortable, you probably won't even know you're hearing the Word of God. The emergent church has a lot of interesting possibilities, but when I read Donald Miller quoted lauding Ann Lamott for being "...like the only Christian writer who can just drop an F-bomb every few pages, and no one notices"(2) I wonder what the congregation is emerging from (or to) exactly. If you're reading about spiritual regeneration and you don't notice the "f-bomb", perhaps it's because the percussion of the mortar obliterated your discernment. I suppose it's the logical extension of the seeker-friendly movement of the '90s. Now, here in the new century it's all about the seeking and not so much what can be found.

A lack of imagination? A lack of courage? To address our deepest needs we must get past our own wants and remember the Kingdom of God is not an earthly kingdom. I wish I could remember what I was reading to attribute the quote, but I once read, "Our experience on earth is the closest a Christian will ever get to hell. And it's the closest the non-believer will ever come to heaven." Confusion about destination. I think that's a part of the problem. That, and, forgetting that I am not the central figure of the gospel message—Jesus Christ is.

My pastor, Dr. Miller, recently preached from Mark 10. He spoke of James and John making their audacious request in verse 35, "Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. 'Teacher,' they said, 'we want you to do for us whatever we ask.'"

But Jesus, wants them to get specific about their need, "'What do you want me to do for you?' he asked" (Mark 10:36).

Dr. Miller went on to describe the scene, "The divine vending machine was full of tasty treats but they knew just what they wanted, 'They replied, 'Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory'" (Mark 10:37). This response indicates they caught at least a little bit of what Jesus had just said about the event of his suffering that was quickly approaching.

And here it comes (italics mine): "'You don't know what you are asking', Jesus said. 'Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?'" (Mark 10:38).

Turns out, they named it, claimed it—and eventually got it—the part about the cup and baptism that is, "'We can,' they answered. Jesus said to them, 'You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared'" (Mark 10:39-40).

The psalmist wove the opposing forces of pain and joy together in Psalm 51 when he wrote,

"Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

"Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.

"Hide your face from my sins
and blot out all my iniquity." —Psalm 51:7-9

No one wants to be crushed. No one, who is mentally healthy, invites pain. Jesus himself was so burdened by his obedience to the cross that he sweat drops of blood as he pleaded with God for another way. But, our reality is this: we all must be broken by the cross. Mark 20:18 presents the two options available to us, "Everyone who falls on that stone [Jesus] will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed."

There are easier religions. There are easier versions of Christianity. But there is no other way to eternal life in the presence of God than through Jesus.

So we can join the crowd around the cross on Good Friday and shout to Jesus, "Get down from there and we will believe" or "How can you save us if you can't save yourself?" "Save yourself then, and we will follow!" All the while missing the boat entirely. Missing the fact that for Jesus to do what we ask would negate the sacrifice and the power of it. It would be spectacular. And empty.

Emptiness belongs to death and the tomb. Death, that silent bell that no longer rings, its mouth cracked and its clapper gone missing.

No, Jesus stayed. He remained faithful to his Father and his mission and his love. He knew to save us, to generate belief, resurrection, not rebellion was needed and necessary. Surely getting off that cross on Friday would have made Jesus happy. But his eye was on the prize. His eye was on the joy of heaven.

Obedience to Christ might not always feel good (just ask a prophet) but God will always be good.

"For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you." —2 Corinthians 4:5-12

Pouring out

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. —John 12:3

No need to put a pint of myrrh (nard) on someone—unless they are dead.

Not only was this anointing a foreshadow of the death-bound tomb Jesus was on the verge of entering, it was a visual allegory of why Jesus had come.

The act was beautiful in its depth of love. It was an expression of sacrifice on Mary's part. She gave something to Jesus that was deeply personal and precious to her, something worth a year's wages, something that represented her identity as a prostitute, something that was earned by her sin, something she knew only Jesus could bear, something she knew only Jesus could transform, something she didn't want anymore.

The wages of sin is death. Mary poured the sin and death of her life out on Jesus at that banquet table. And he received it. He welcomed it because his perspective was like none other, he was able to see the joy set before him—the joy beyond the grave.

In repentance as we pour out our hearts, each one black and sin filled—regardless of how beautiful and alabaster white they appear to be on the outside, Christ transforms the stench of death into sweet perfume before the Father.

The disciples, notably Judas, were shocked by the "waste." And to be sure, pouring one's heart out on anyone or anything else would be waste. Excess given to loss. But, in pouring your heart out to Jesus, repentance is transformed into thanksgiving, shame to honor, and mourning to praise.

As we enter Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, remember Christ and his sacrifice. An act beautiful in its depth of love. An expression of completed sacrifice. God gave something to us that was precious to him; something worth all eternity; something that represented His own identity, Emmanuel, God with us;His Begotten, His One and only Son.

Only Jesus, through the power of God, can transform death into life.

Gracious Fury

If God were truly good, then why...?

It's an old question—and a frequently asked one. "How could God allow...?" "Why didn't God punish...?" "How could a loving God permit...?" Almost a year ago, I was asking the question again too.

And God answered me through the book of Job.

Who is this that darkens my counsel
with words without knowledge?

Brace yourself like a man;
I will question you, and you shall answer me (Job 38:2-3).

I was trying to fall asleep with images of a terrible news story in my head. It was a story about the murder of a teenage girl. The convicted man had piles of porn in his home. Not just Hustler trash, it was child pornography depicting horrific abuses to very small children. It sickened me to the point of being physically ill.

The memories have come back to mind because my husband just returned from a photo assignment in Cambodia. He went with a film crew from Christ In Youth who were shooting a documentary and photo essay about the sex slave trade and human trafficking. Girls as young as five years old are being sold for as little as $500 to men who, twisted by lust and self-gratification, take not only their virginity, but their innocence, childhood, and many times their hope of a future as well.

In Romania, where we minister, more and more stories of the same kind are appearing in the press. Children are snatched up or—even worse—sold by their own parents to be used for sex, for begging, or for thieving—whatever will bring in the most money for the "new owner."

Confronted with all of this evil, how can we not ask God that same old question? I mean, after all, we are talking about children here. The innocent ones. The ones with no defenses and no one to defend them.

How does God restrain Himself? I find it hard to understand how the hope of men coming to know Him can hold Him to His throne. Especially as the evidence of our determination toward sin and ever greater degrees of depravity is overwhelming and inescapable.

God spoke into my questions as I read further in Job 38.

Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation?
Tell me, if you understand.

Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
Who stretched a measuring line across it?

On what were its footings set,
or who laid its cornerstone-

while the morning stars sang together
and all the angels shouted for joy?

Who shut up the sea behind doors
when it burst forth from the womb,

when I made the clouds its garment
and wrapped it in thick darkness,

when I fixed limits for it
and set its doors and bars in place,

when I said, 'This far you may come and no farther;
here is where your proud waves halt' (Job 38:4-11)?

Then, starting in verse 22, the Spirit began to help me understand,

Have you entered the storehouses of the snow
or seen the storehouses of the hail,

which I reserve for times of trouble,
for days of war and battle?...

...From whose womb comes the ice?
Who gives birth to the frost from the heavens

when the waters become hard as stone,
when the surface of the deep is frozen?

These verses called to mind the passages in Jeremiah and Psalms that speak of the storehouses of lightning, wind and rain. And His whisper of understanding came. Our God is good. Our God is gracious. Our God is a loving God. His anger does burn.

God's anger against these atrocities burns with an intensity and a fury that I can not comprehend. The fire was sparked when satan invented rebellion. The fire grew when other angels followed in the quest to usurp God. And through the ages, the fire has continued to grow as man follows in his sin nature instead of his creator's image.

I had never considered God's holy anger in this way—as the fuel for hell's fire.

In grace, God created a place—far from us—to warehouse His fury against sin. The storehouse of His fury, His perfect judgment and justice, waits with doors shut by grace, until the appropriate time when satan, and all those who choose rebellion, will be finally flung, finally destroyed, finally finished.

The scriptures speak of God's treasuries of snow and hail. They speak of His storehouses of wind, rain, and lightning. I believe now that hell is God's storehouse of His holy anger, burning against sin. And our rebellion continues to fuel it.

Shakespeare wrote, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." But hell is fury. It is God's fury against men who would violate the innocence of children in unspeakable ways. It is God's fury against lusts and greediness, against every fruit of rebellion.

There is some comfort though. Because if we hope, as the Father does, that men will come to know Him, to repent at the cross of Christ, and follow Christ in real discipleship, grace will abound.

The Apostle Paul says that as we repent, God's grace is sufficient to cover a multitude of sin (2 Corinthians 12:9). So, even as God's holy anger is being stored up for that final day, justice is His second choice. God always prefers grace. God never ceases to first love.

This is not to say God's nature is to prefer blindly glossing over sin. He is also faithful. In love He disciplines us to bring us to repentance that we might be brought ever more fully into His grace. And this is the hope that holds Him to His sovereign throne.

Thank you Father, for Your grace. Thank You that You are patient and merciful. Thank You that You will set all things right—including things seemingly left undone—even as you hold out mercy while we have time to grasp it.

Now I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified. —Acts 20:32