Monthly Archives: April 2020

STRIPPED BARE

 

One of the great obstacles confronting the church today is the many new ways we have invented that make it easier for hearers to mistake their “religious feelings” for genuine faith.

This, of course, is not new.

Jesus

Back in Jesus’ day He warned that we are not to gauge genuine faith by one “who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself, but endures only for a while”.
Neither by one “who hears the word, and the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful.” (Matt 13:20-22)

Elsewhere He told us that there would be“many” who will religiously call upon Him as “Lord, Lord,” and who “have prophesied in Christ’s name, cast out demons in Christ’s name, and done many wonders in Christ’s name?” – yet, concerning whom, in the end, Christ will say, “I never knew you” (Matt 7:21-23)

Jonathan Edwards

During the Great Awakening in the 18th century, Jonathan Edwards wrote his “Treatise concerning Religious Affections”.
In it he staunchly defended the importance and necessity of “affections” (or, what we would call today “feelings”) in the Christian experience.
But he was also painfully aware of how easily such feeling alone can be mistaken for evidence of genuine faith. He notes, for example, that:

  • Being zealous about religious things is no sign of gracious affections
  • Externally-induced affections are not necessarily gracious
  • Having a variety of religious affections does not make them gracious
  • Attack of conscience leading to comfort or joy is no sign of gracious affections
  • Praising and glorifying God is no clear sign of religious affections
  • Confidence in divine experiences is not a sign of religious affections

In particular, Edwards looked for holiness of character as the best evidence of a change of heart. He wrote: “See to it that they long after holiness and that all their experiences increase their longing.”

Iain Murray, in his biography of Jonathan Edwards, tells how Edwards maintained: “The love and the pursuit of holiness is the enduring mark of the true Christian” and “wherever a profession of conversion is not accompanied by holiness of life it must be understood that the individual concerned is not a Christian.”

Also, “those who lack ‘gracious affections’ have no reverential fear, they are ‘familiar’ with God in worship and ‘bold, forward, noisy and boisterous’ with men.”

Archibald Alexander

A century later Archibald Alexander, living through another era of Revivals, wrote his “Thoughts on Religious Experience”. He  also defended the importance of “feeling” in the Christian experience.
But he also warned that many were being led away by (what he calls) “sympathy” with what others around them were feeling (or, appeared to be feeling):

“Will not such as are thus affected be in great danger of being deceived, by taking these tender emotions of sympathy to be the exercises of true repentance, especially as they fall in with those convictions of conscience which all who hear the gospel experience?… there is a peculiar luxury in such excitements, especially when tears are shed copiously.”

Is this the fault of worship leaders?
Alexander wisely observes:

“Ministers of the gospel cannot be blamed for these temporary impressions, unless they use unauthorised means to work upon the sympathies of their hearers.” (emphasis mine)

The Contemporary Scene

Today we see increasingly a number of “unauthorised means” being employed simply “to work upon the sympathies of their hearers”.
Joseph, in his Amazing Techno-Dreamcoat, performs on stage as he “leads worship”.
Technology and sound systems, that overwhelm us in an avalanche of audio-visual sensory experiences, ramp up feelings to an ever increasing crescendo.
As a result, more and more are being led away to believe that their religious-type feelings, generated by such means, actually constitute faith.

But, as Iain Murray notes of Jonathan Edwards’ day:

“In addition to the work of the  Holy Spirit, Satan had been powerfully active in producing a counterfeit religion – a religion which was ‘evangelical’, which made much of ‘experience’, of ‘discoveries of Christ’ and of ‘the fulness of the Holy Spirit’. The devil, Edwards argues, does not trouble to counterfeit valueless things – ‘there are many false diamonds and rubies, but who goes about to counterfeit common stones?’ – he employs his subtlety in making imitations of the most excellent things.”

Brett McCracken

In his book “Uncomfortable”, Brett McCracken is arguing for a measure of diversity in worship. But it is interesting the way he also records his own experience:

“Just as ‘worship’ has been narrowed to basically mean ‘singing,’ singing in church has also been narrowed (at least in white evangelicalism) to a very specific, Hillsong-esque form. But why does ‘worship music’ have to feature multiple electric guitars and multiple singers? When and why did this form become the norm?…”

“Why is it more me- and we-focused than God-focused? Why is 99 percent of it so happy and feel-good in a world full of injustice and sin that should lead us to lament? I’m not a Debbie Downer, and I do think musical worship should generally be a hope-filled and joyous experience, but I often feel missed in a church service that ignores the pain of existence and creation’s groaning for restoration…”

We “meet together for ninety minutes of intense singing and praying, and everyone stands for pretty much the entire duration. The music is loud, energetic, and relentless for a good forty-five minutes or so, and those who would rather sit down after thirty-five minutes can’t help but feel guilty for lacking endurance.”

The Present Mess

All this makes it increasingly confusing for the poor soul who paticipates, especially those who are younger. As a result, many today are being led to believe that the feelings they experience are genuine faith.
But too often, such “faith” is in a feeling, or in a fact (eg. “Jesus died for me”), rather than in God and in Jesus Himself.

How do we get out of this mess?
One hopeful sign is the Corona Virus.
The following article, by Brett McCracken, appeared on the Gospel Coalition website:


Coronavirus Could Kill Consumer Christianity

One of the potential positive effects of COVID-19 on Christianity is that the epidemic is likely to kill off consumer Christianity, at least in the short term.

And while there is certainly plenty to lament about how this crisis is wrecking lives, economies, and unraveling all the world’s plans in stunningly rapid fashion, the virus’s attack on comfortable Christianity could be something we eventually celebrate.

Here are three ways COVID-19 is killing consumer Christianity.

1. Stripping Church of Excess

There will be no Insta-friendly photo booths, polished musical programs, or pastel-colored bounce houses at churches this Easter. Cadbury egg giveaways and “He Is Risen!” latte art will be absent. Lavish children’s ministry playgrounds, bespoke Vineyard Vines–clad greeters, fair trade pour-over coffee—none of it will be there to entice seekers or twice-annual churchgoers. Months of planning for the most creative, attractive Easter service in town have been thwarted. Pastors everywhere are likely depressed at this turn of events, but they shouldn’t be.

Why? Because coronavirus has rapidly taken away the excesses of church, all the bells and whistles, all the nice-to-haves we’ve come to see as must-haves. What remains are bare essentials: Jesus, the Word, community, prayer, singing. What remains is the reality that the church can never be vanquished: we are Christ’s body and will live eternally with him. Things are suddenly spartan in how we do church—but what we are remains as vibrant as ever.

In a tweet earlier this month, Duke Kwon pondered: “What if God, in his strange providence, is downshifting the American church into a mode of simplicity, stripped of non-essentials, renewed in its fundamental identity as the people of God?”

Among other things, this “downshifting” will rid many people—including many pastors—of the notion that church must be comfortable and consumer-friendly in the crowded marketplace of entertainment options. In the COVID-19 quarantine, the clunky, unpolished computer-church experience will decidedly not be the easiest or most comfortable option for how people spend their Sundays. It will be a countercultural choice. And that’s a good thing.

2. Blowing Up the Notion of Sunday-Only Faith

For Sunday-only or Sunday-mostly Christians, whose faith is largely defined by a few hours on Sunday mornings, COVID-19 is a game-changer. In a season when the Sunday experience has become drastically reduced to essentially a YouTube video or Zoom meeting (an absolutely temporary and less-than-ideal compromise), Christians are forced to consider what faith looks like when “going to church” isn’t part of it.

This crisis is a great opportunity for believers to think afresh about what it means to be distinctly Christian every day of the week, in every aspect of life. What does it look like to be noticeably Christian in a world where the previously most conspicuous thing about faith identity—going to church—is gone? Further, demand has never been greater for Christians to be Christian in more than just Sunday ways.

The good news is there are lots of creative ways Christians are already stepping up to live out their faith in the midst of this crisis. But in the weeks and months ahead—as more people in our relational networks get the disease and fear in our communities grows—the need for Christians to step up in service will be exponentially greater.

We can all pray that one of the long-term results of this crisis will be renewed passion for Christ’s followers to live and love like him in their neighborhoods, workplaces, and quarantined communities everywhere—seven days a week.

3. Challenging Christians to Give Without Getting

One of the major concerns for churches and pastors in this unexpected season is a decrease of congregational giving. For consumer Christians especially, giving might become hard to stomach when there’s nothing they’re “getting” in return. No polished worship service and top-notch youth group for the kids. No donuts, coffee, or uplifting music. Only a makeshift service on a computer screen.

But if churchgoers stop giving because of this transactional expectation, it will simply expose them to be consumer Christians—giving only because they get. But that’s not how it should go, is it? No, this less-than-ideal new normal for church shouldn’t be an excuse to stop giving, just because you’re not being served as well as you might’ve been a few months ago. Church is not about consumers being served; it’s about Christians serving one another, and sacrificially building up the body even when it is costly, inconvenient, and uncomfortable.

This moment is an opportunity for true, faithful generosity to be tested. Christians should keep giving, even as economic conditions worsen, job losses rise, and hoarding instincts kick in. They should step up in service, too, finding creative, if costly, ways to meet the mounting needs of those around them—especially the most vulnerable. The generosity of God’s people for one another will be even more crucial in the days ahead.

Gift of Discomfort

I wrote my book Uncomfortable a few years ago to challenge believers to resist the allure of comfortable, consumer Christianity and instead commit to a faith that is costly, inconvenient, and uncomfortable. Discomfort is painful, to be sure, but it is a clarifying gift. The truth is, following Jesus was never meant to be easy (Matt. 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 14:27). Discipleship was never meant to be consumer-friendly. Church was never meant to be comfortable.

The COVID-19 epidemic is forcing us to remember this truth. It’s shaking us swiftly out of our complacency and consumer-driven addition to comfort, and driving us to cling to the God of Jacob who is our fortress (Ps. 46:7).

In the wake of this crisis, I pray, will be a more resilient and durable church—strengthened in the fires of discomfort and fortified by renewed dependence on Jesus Christ, our only comfort in life and death.