1. The reason we can’t get into heaven is because we’re not perfect
2. The reason we must accept Jesus is to makes us look perfect to God so we can slip past Him into heaven
Christianity is the only theistic religion that doesn't require moral conformity. In fact, the greatest moral conformists have usually been least respected by God, according to Jesus. Remember the “Rich, Young Ruler” (Matthew 19:16-26): he asked Jesus what he needed to do to get to heaven. Jesus said, “Follow all the rules.” The guy said, “Great. I’ve done that.” Now this next part has always bothered me. As much as religious people may hate it, assuming the above Sunday School indoctrination, Jesus only had two options: (1) “You’re lying. You’ve broken rules and you know it,” or (2) “Great job. You’re in.” For Jesus to say, “Okay, you’ve followed all the rules, but I’m going to add more rules right now” would be unfair, unjust, and generally sleazy. What if you get to the end of those rules? What’s to keep Him from adding more? How can you win with a God like that? How can you like a God like that? So how does Jesus get off the hook? Before we get to the rest of this story, let’s draw from a parallel example:
John is married to Jenny, but he also wants to date Sally because Sally has lifetime court-side tickets to his favorite sports team. John read Sally’s eHarmony ad, and is prepared to sweep her off her feet. He memorized her favorite poems, delivered her favorite flowers; he has collected many of her favorite books and DVDs, and he presents them to her as he asks to take her to her favorite restaurant. She says no.
He demands, “Don’t you know how much time I’ve spent working on making this relationship work!? You owe me at least one date! What else do I have to do to make you love me?!?” Ridiculous, right? It doesn’t matter that he matched himself up perfectly with her online profile. A perfect match wasn’t good enough. Even though he’s done everything she would want a man to do to fall in love, there’s not a chance they’re getting together. In fact, a man could do so much less and win her heart. She’s not nearly as cornered by his question as he wishes she was. She doesn’t owe him an answer. In fact, we would all be quite proud of her if she responded, “You’re disgusting! You know what? If you really love me, try divorcing Jenny and swear off sports forever. Then come back to me and I might consider letting you start all over again…you [insert expletive here]!”
John doesn’t love Sally; he is only hoping to use her standard to force her into owing him. She wasn’t lying when she wrote all those things on her profile. Those were really the things she liked and wanted, but in the end, doing those things only counted if they were symptoms of a relationship. They could never be the cause of the relationship. There is almost no difference in action between John and Sally’s true love. There is almost no similarity in heart between John and Sally’s true love.
Now back to Jesus: in response to the rich man asking “what do I have to do to earn heaven?” Jesus responds, “If you can show me that there’s nothing more important than me, you can move in with me. Otherwise, your perfect moral conformity just isn’t good enough.”
On my best Christian days, when I am most like Christ, I am almost as good as a Pharisee. They tithed, went to church, they were nice, they never missed devotions, they worked hard. Their school teachers had it made! Their neighborhoods were safe, and they were some of the cleanest people alive. By the age of 15, they all had more scripture memorized than I do. And yet, Jesus says to them, “The cheats and the whores are entering heaven before you!” (Matthew 21:31) Jesus does not say “The cheats and the whores MIGHT enter heaven before you if they clean themselves up.” The perfect moral conformists are not getting into heaven, and the rule breakers are. And it angers the moral conformist every time!
This is precisely why the church can’t win a debate with an atheist about salvation. The American ‘christian’ may have the license plate frame that says, “Christians aren’t perfect, they’re just forgiven”, but we look down our noses at people who are doing wrong. When the alcoholic walks into church, we all know we’re all better than he. He says, “Well I’m a Christian too,” but we look at each other knowingly, right? We know we’re better because we’re sober. That’s what sets us apart.
But Americans are not good enough to really bank on it – and we know it. For example, atheism is condemned by the Bible, but atheists are often very good people, and it’s frustrating. We like to ignore the good atheists, and we teach the children to be afraid of them. Homosexuality is also condemned by the Bible, but homosexuals are often very good people, so we strain to point out the perverts (as if the heteros had no perverts among themselves). In these cases, when pressed in a reasonable debate, we end up falling back on our “forgiven” status to set us apart.
So when we’re better than the competition, we’re better; when the competition is better than us, we’re forgiven. Either way, we win. I was on a high school basketball team like that once. When we won, we were proud; when we lost, we were better sports. (We were ‘better sports’ a lot.) When I close my eyes, I can still hear the echoes of protective team moms on the way back to our private school, “I’m so proud of you boys. They may have won, but it’s better to lose with dignity than to win and be like them.” That would be followed by a point-by-point character assassination, recalling all the ways in which our opponents had played dirty or how the referees had been just horribly biased.
None of us really believed it. We all just hoped everyone else did. Kind of like church. We’ve worked so hard to do good – we want it to make us better than someone else. What separates us from the Pharisees is that we also have our crutch of God’s grace. We want to be the best, but we’ll settle for being forgiven. Whichever one we are at the time, that’s the right one to be.
It’s frustrating to the religious person that God’s requirement for heaven is not that a person stops sinning. Repentance is not a requirement for salvation; it is an effect of salvation. The real requirement is the relationship. As soon as I catch myself trying to be good, there is a good chance I’m pursuing the wrong goal. I’m trying to fix the scale instead of fixing my diet. The scale is important, but even if I can fix it to say the right thing, I have only deceived myself. Judgment day will be devastating for such people, because “Perfect” is good, but it’s not good enough. Never forget that, as a disciplined and educated Jewish Rabbi, Jesus was never upset with the Pharisees for being religious. He was primarily angry that they were only religious.
Romans 2:14-15, paraphrased: When the non-religious (who do not know scriptures) get saved, they naturally obey the scriptures, because the requirements of the God are written on their hearts and in their consciences.

If brevity is a godly characteristic, consider me the most reprobate of sinners. But I thank you for giving me two full lunch periods worth of fodder – your phrase, “the crutch of God’s grace” got me thinking. Anyway, I guess I’ll submit this in parts to fit your maximum. I’m so sorry, and don’t feel any pressure to read or respond to the whole thing:
ReplyDeletePart 1
Great post! While reading it, I asked myself why we’re constantly fooled into thinking we can be good enough. I wonder when it is that we move from being Christians and turn into “religious Christians.” As you implied in your post, Christianity is distinctly not about moral conformity, and yet the pressure to conform is most likely felt the minute someone walks into the doors of the church. It’s a pressure to meet the minimum. In other words, as long as someone is not acting intemperate and their marriage is okay, they must be okay, they’ll be treated as okay, and they’ll probably think they are okay (or at least they’ll act that way). If they come in with something severe, say drug addiction…then buckle up! It will be a long and exciting ride, but we’ll know we’re done when this addict has a loving wife and can stand up in front of everyone and say, “I used to_____ but look at me now!”
I have said, and continue to say, something pretty similar to that statement and I’m not planning on taking away from the power of God to change a life. I would argue it is one of the most powerful testaments to our faith. So, without diminishing the awesome results of a changed heart, I would argue that testimonies like these speak to the power of the Gospel, but they don’t necessarily explain the content. And I would add that, perhaps, focusing too much on the increase of moral fortitude is misleading. I will say it like this, and then I’ll explain what I mean: Religion is for the recovering addict, but Christianity is for the current, and always relapsing, addict.
Two of the examples you used, homosexuality and drunkenness, share something in common: they are both states of being. This stuck out to me when I compared them to something like telling a lie. In my comparison, I thought that sins like telling a lie, committing a murder, or acts of adultery all seem to have a beginning and an end – a point of time where the person sinned. In other words, a person can separate themselves from the sin by time. And so I asked myself: If repenting means that a person will stop committing the sin they are repenting of, is it possible for a drunk to repent of his drunkenness? And I don’t mean can he sober up, go to church the next day, and then swear off drinking for the rest of his life. I mean, literally, can a drunken person actually stop being drunk by his own will power? I’m sure plenty of people have mentally tried to sober-up, and considered themselves successful, until they find themselves in a holding cell with a blood test showing them their actual BAC level.
Part 2
ReplyDeleteWhile I think there are some fun uses one could draw from this picture (i.e. a drunk using chewing gum to cover the alcohol on his breath is like a Christian…well…you could say a lot of things, I guess), but I’m really only intending for one application to be drawn here, and that is to say repentance (by itself) doesn’t change your state of being. If a person told a lie, he is a liar – after all, it only takes one kill to become a murderer, so “smaller” sins shouldn’t be treated differently. I think the trap we sometimes fall in, is that we believe our act of repentance covers the sin we are repenting of.
And this is where I think “religious Christians” (like me) get it wrong. I hear Prov. 24:16, “for the righteous falls seven times and rises again…” and I instinctively, and incorrectly, infer that repentance is, somehow, a righteous act. “Yes, I sinned, but then I repented, and under the law of the New Testament I have earned forgiveness for that sin, right? Now, if I can just keep this thing going…”
Although I could never get away with presenting that outline to a Christian who is in church weekly and understands salvation better than that, I would challenge that same Christian to explain how salvation works to a gay individual who is wondering how to become a Christian. Here is the acid test, I think. How do we present the Gospel to a non-believer without sounding like all we are saying is “Stop sinning and get saved?” If a gay or lesbian individual asked you point blank, “How can I be saved?” what would you respond with? Consider our Savior’s response to the rich young ruler.
I guess what I am trying to show is that I think we unwittingly give ourselves credit for our repentance. Somehow we begin to think, our decision, our attempt, and even our desire to stop sinning earns us points somewhere. And here I don’t mean that we are simply being prideful – at least then we could just repent. If that were the case, I don’t think it would be such a huge problem. Our pride would only last as long as our repentance and we would return to God when we realized we couldn’t carry ourselves. No, there is a lot of pride but I think the real problem is a lot worse than what one might originally hope for. Along with our pride, I think we are actually turning away from God in the process.
Part 3
ReplyDeletePlease understand, I can honestly say I have repented of the same sin at least a thousand times –and that’s probably being generous. Most days, I feel like I have left the righteous man of Prov. 24:26 in the dust. But here’s the catch: I don’t spend all that much time wondering if God will forgive me or if I’ve reached my limit. And that is not to say that I am discounting that forgiveness or minimizing the terribleness of my sins. However, as much as I need to learn to recognize my own ungodliness, I am usually more inclined to question my own repentance. I question the genuineness of my repentance. “Shouldn’t I be doing better by now?” “If I really repented with all my heart, would I have done that again?” And, of course, the inevitable, “Am I really saved?”
Here is a little picture: Because I’m me (and I don’t say that proudly), I evaluate my salvation on the effectiveness of my repentance. For example, I repented of X on Tuesday 1:00 p.m. and haven’t done X again since then… Time passes and it is now Tuesday 6:00 p.m. and I have officially felt like a Christian for six hours… Time passes and it is now Thursday 5:30 p.m. and I STILL haven’t done X (Insert self congratulations here – secondarily infused with acknowledgement of God’s help), therefore I am enjoying “living abundantly” and can’t wait to meet with my small group tonight! Time passes again and, oh no…it is Friday 11:00 a.m. and I just did X. Everything is ruined. If I look to my sin diary, I realize this is the 965th time I have done this same sin. Hmmmm…I wonder if it’s come to the point that I should tell one of my Christian friends about it. OH NO! What if it has already come to the point where one of my Christian friends has noticed it and is just about to say something to me? Good thing it is only Friday. I can still squeeze in a full day’s worth of repentance before church on Sunday. I just hope they don’t play that “Victory in Jesus” song because I really need to contemplate.
Example continued: Now it’s Sunday 10:00 a.m. My buddy at church just asked me how my week went….”Great!” I say with a huge smile! I then go on to explain how I can’t stop sinning, how I questioned my salvation multiple times throughout the week, and when my alarm clock went off I wondered whether it was really worth going to church at all! J/K J/K…I only said “Great!” and stopped there. I would tell him all that other stuff, but seriously…have you ever noticed how phony other people (insert sarcastic emphasis here) at church can be? I mean, why would I tell him about the real me?
And now for my prayer in church that day: “God, I know I am really screwing this up. Give me strength to overcome this sin. Thank you for your forgiveness.”
Part 4
ReplyDeleteAlright, I know this post is waaaay too long, but here are my concluding thoughts: I have a tendency to pay my penitence and rely on that as my religious practice to attain salvation. If I can repent, I can be made righteous, right? The Pharisees had their rituals and traditions, I have my repentance and forgiveness. And here the problem always presents itself: If my faith relies on my ability to do better and sin less, then “Ouch,” I don’t have a lot of faith. I am still drunk. My repentance didn’t separate me from my sin, nor did it get me all that far away from it. As fast as I could run from my sin, it was always a step ahead of me and seemed to be waiting for me behind every corner.
And now for my only hope: I couple Prov. 24:26 with Romans 1:17.
Long story short, I’m glad I’m not as good as the Pharisees at religion and at repentance. If I was, I might fall for the belief that I’m meeting the minimum (my minimum), and be bitter towards God for not “letting me in.” Instead, I have the blessing of losing all hope in me and finding my hope in Christ.