How I Got Myself in Trouble for Preaching the Wrong Gospel

My church member crossed her arms and said, "You're preaching the wrong gospel!"  For those who know me, that may come as a shock--because I was raised in a Southern Baptist church, went to a Baptist seminary, pastored evangelical churches for 26 years, and towed the line.  Except when I didn't.  

But when I didn't, it was never because I abandoned the Gospel of "How to Get to Heaven When You Die."  It was becuase I preached the FIRST Gospel first.  Oh, I believe the Gospel that talks about receiveing Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior.  I never gave up on that.  In fact, that was a highlight of my preaching (where, in a Baptist church, the pastor MUST include an invitation to the altar every Sunday morning).  But where I got myself in trouble, where I got accuesed of preaching the wrong gospel, was where I focused on Jesus' first priority--that of liberation.

When Jesus began his ministry, he didn't wander the country declaring himself to be the savior and the only means of reaching heaven.  Contrary to evangelical belief, that wasn't the primary focus of his ministry.  Instead, he primarily preached, "The kingdom of heaven is near!"  He taught his disciples to pray that God's will would be done on earth as perfectly as it's done in heaven.  In other words, Jesus' first focus was on transsforming people's lives TODAY and IN THIS PLACE, in such a way that life on earth resembles life in heaven.  

As long as I preached the gospel of "How to Get to Heaven When You Die," I did alright.  People came forward, gave their hearts to Jesus, got saved, and mostly went back to living the same as they did before.  But when I preached the first message of Jesus, two things happened.  First, people were challenged to live different.  Second, I got myself in trouble.  I learned that if I was going to preach like Jesus, I should be prepared to get crucified.

So...what was this dangerous message?  It was the same as the message that Jesus preached in the Nazareth synagogue, where he opened the scroll to Isaiah 61 (NIV) and read:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives

    and release from darkness for the prisoners,

2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

    and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

    instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

    instead of a spirit of despair.

After Jesus read that scripture, and declared that he had come to fulfill it, the good religious people in his hometown got so upset that they tried to throw him off a cliff.  What's so upsetting about these words?  Why did they get Jesus in so much trouble, and why did they get me crucified right along with him?

When I said that the poor couldn't afford healthcare, I got called a communist.  When I said that the captives and prisoners who needed to be freed might be children who are in cages, they said I was supporting illegal immigration.  When I said that the brokenhearted might be LGBTQ folks who have been hurt by the church, they said I didn't believe the Bible.  When I said strangers and foreigners (read "people of color" when the church is all white) should be welcome, they said I was just trying to change things.  When I said that the day of God's vengeance was more likely going to fall on religious people than the folks we hate, they said I was crazy.  They said I was preaching the wrong gospel.

The right gospel, according to the good religious folks, was "How to Get to Heaven When You Die."  And I didn't disagree with this message--so I preached that sometimes, too.  But it wasn't Jesus' primary point.  And it wasn't mine, either.  The problem with preaching ONLY the "salvation message" (as understood in the ticket to heaven way) is that it's too easy.  It doesn't involve doing anything but believing a doctrine, getting baptized, and trying your best to act as holy as the next guy.  It doesn't really demand any social change.  It certainly doesn't involve working to help the poor, the broken, the strangers, the foreigners, the outcast, the other.  

In contrast, Jesus' Gospel was mostly about that.  More than anything else, Jesus was about helping people.  He healed them.  He restored them socially.  He honored them when they had been ostracized by their neighbors.  He fed them when they were hungry and defended them when they were condemned.  He saved them, not just so they could go to heaven when they died, but so they could live a better life here and now.  And that's the tough gospel--because if I follow Jesus like that, it's going to cost me something.

In over a quarter century of church ministry, I can't tell you how many times I got in trouble for preaching the wrong gospel.  As long as I talked about Jesus' blood and streets of gold, they were happy.  As long as I told them how Jesus makes THEIR lives better, they were happy.  But when I told them that Jesus requires them to BE better, to DO better to their neighbors, strangers, and their enemies, it was the "wrong" gospel.

Jesus told his listeners, "Love God and love people.  If you do this, you've fulfilled the law and prophets."  In other words, if you do this, all the rest is commentary.  But if you really love God you'll show it by the way you love people.  Loving them isn't just an emotion--like the way you feel when you listen to a musical artist and say, "I just LOVE him!"  No, loving God means loving those who are made in the divine image.  And loving people means actively working for their good.  It means opposing injustice that stands against their good--especially those who are weakest.  And if that's the wrong gospel, I suppose I'm guilty.  But I don't mind.  Jesus was guilty, too.

Photo Credit: "Infrared All Saints church Sharrington Norfolk" by Brokentaco is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Autopsy of a Christian Leader

Another Christian leader has fallen.  Some will condemn.  Others will defend.  Still more will celebrate.  What's the best way that believers can respond when we witness moral failures among our leaders--among our members?  

Certainly, appropriate measures must be taken.  Decisions must be made about this leader's career.  Firing or resignation is inevitible--but that's not the point.  I want to talk about the possible stance that the average Christian is going to have, when news like this comes out.

One position is to attack.  Attackers will spotlight hypocrisy, point fingers, and gloat.  They will celebrate the downfall.  Attackers will outline faults and flaws and failings, because they take joy in watching the demise of someone they dislike.

Another position is to defend.  Defenders can take several approaches.  Some will make excuses for their beloved leader, explaining why it's somebody else's fault.  Others will downplay the offense, using the passive voice and saying, "mistakes were made."  Still other defenders will employ the counter-attack, biting at liberals and secular society like a dog in a corner.  

But, what if, instead of attacking or defending, we simply did an autopsy?  What if we drew a chalk line around the body, examined the evidence, cut open the remains and tried to determine what caused the downfall?  There's a way to both respect the body on the one hand, while pulling out the entrails with the other, eager to find the cause without either condemning or defending the man.  This is the way of love.

Yes, in an odd way, it can be said that a medical examiner loves the person they are examining.  They treat the body with utmost care, not wanting to damage anything that mustn't be touched except for the sake of finding the truth.  They search out the facts of the case, not only so that justice can be done, but so that those who grieve might have answers.  And in the hopes of learning something so that such falls might be avoided in days to come.  

In the days following a Christian leader's moral failure, attackers and defenders line up and spit at each other across social and theological lines.  But perhaps there's a third way--neither one of making excuses nor derisive comments.  The third way is to treat the fallen with care, treat the situation as the grave thing that it is, and respectfully make the first incision.  Because you won't find anything worthwhile in snide remarks or useless defenses.  But finding the truth might just set us free--so that this can be laid to rest, and so that the things we learn from this might shape a better future.

*Photo credit: "autopsy tables" by reallyboring is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

"When It's Hard to Be Still" - Ps 46:10

Do you have a tough time sitting still?  When I'm at work, I find I have to get up and move around all the time.  In my home office, I have a stand-up desk on one side and a sit-down table on the other side, with an adjustable bar stool to adjust between the two heights.  Frequently--just because I have a hard time sitting still--I get up, leave the office, and take a walk around the house.  It's hard for me to be still.

That's why I practice being still almost every morning, in contemplative prayer and meditation.  Using breathing techniques and the repitition of sacred words, fingering through prayer beads (which help me move a little while being still), I practice inner silence.  

In Psalm 46:10, the Lord says, "Be still, and know that I am God."

  

Not long ago in meditation, the mantra I repeated was simply the two words "Be still."  And here's what came to mind: that word "still" has a lot of meanings, and the phrase "be still" can have a lot of applications.

• "Be still" means to quit moving.  It means, literally, to let your body relax, to feel your own breath and heartbeat, to quit fidgeting.  This is important in many types of meditation.
• "Be still" means to be calm or tranquil, as in still water.  Just as still water has no current or ripples, a still mind allows itself to simply rest in God's presence, and to reflect God's image.
• "Be still" means to utter no sound.  It means to cease filling the mind and the mouth with extraneous words and thoughts.  When my vocal cords and brain cease forming words, the Word of God can finally speak.
• "Be, still" (with a comma) means to abide, continually.  It means to remain.  It means to just exist in this present moment.  To just be, despite all that's going on.  It means to just be, nevertheless.  
• Finally, (I'm taking a little latitude) "To be a still" means to be a distillery.  It means to be like a whiskey still, filtering out the contaminants of the world and allowing God's truth to ferment inside me until it becomes somethiing good.

So, when it's hard to be still, I recommend literally meditating on what those two words mean.  Sit, and be still with those two words.  Let them ferment inside you--then taste, and see that the Lord is good.

Photo credit:"Briksha" by andrewscater is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

It's OK to NOT go back to your church during COVID...or after.

Churches are opening up during COVID--but it's okay NOT to go.  I know what you're thinking--how could a pastor say that?  I can say that BECAUSE I am a pastor.  It's in my heart to care for people.  No, I'm not currently serving a church, and many may discount what I say because I don't have "skin in the game" in terms of making sure that the institution keeps running.  But I served churches for over a quarter century and I still pastor people's souls--so here's why I say that YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO BACK right now.

Maybe you're immunocompromised, or you have family members who are, and you don't want to risk infection.  Maybe you're not immunocompromised, but you realize that you regularly come into contact with other human beings--and Jesus has put so much love in your heart for them that you'd like to save their lives,if possible, by not becoming an asymptomatic carrier.  Whatever your reason, it's okay to NOT go back to your church during COVID.

Now, I know, there are a lot of intrepid souls out there who value church gatherings to the extent that you're willing to risk your own health for the sake of your own worship experience, for the sake of participating in fellowship and service.  I get that.  Many churches are opening during COVID for the benefit of the people who feel just that way.  I'm not saying you shouldn't go.  What I'm saying is that if someone is telling you that you need to go, no matter the risk, you should consider THEIR motive.

There are a few false messages going around that are telling you that you need to go back to church.

1.  "Jesus died for you---you should be willing to die for him."  Wait--what???  Yes, I've actually heard pastors say this in relation to COVID.  While I do believe that there's a time and place for martyrdom, this is not it.  Maybe God will one day call you to enter the pearly gates through the martyr's path, but that would involve a person or persons murdering you for the sake of your faith--not falling victim to a disease that doesn't care what your religion is.  

2.  "The church could die unless we open back up again." No doubt whoever says this is thinking about the church's bottom line.  They're thinking about money.  Because  It's true that some churches will see a drop in giving due to COVID-19.  Many Christians forget to give their tithes and offerings when they're not physically present in the building, and don't generally make it up once they return.  It's also true that your church has expenses that don't go away, simply because they're not having services.  Salaries still neeed to be paid, as do mortgages, et cetera.  But your church can trim its budget to all but the bare essentials during this time.  Maybe this is the time your church needed, to reexamine its priorities.  In any case, if your pastor or anybody else says they need to reopen church in order to bring in the money, this is a clear indication that they HAVE reexamined their priorities, and PEOPLE'S LIVES are not the priority.  

3.    "Church is too important to give up, because it's an exercise of your freedom."  Really???  Did you actually hear what's embedded in those words?  If that's your reason for going to church, then you've placed exercising your freedom as the top priority, as the end goal--and you've made churchgoing simply the means to the end.  If you've elevated the flag to this position, you've diminshed the cross.  Your exercise of your freedom isn't worth causing someone else to get sick and die.

4.    "Fellowship, worship, and giving are so important that you need them for your spiritual health."  Okay--to me, this is the best argument for going back to church during COVID.  But it still doesn't convince me.  It's true that church on YouTube and small group through Zoom aren't quite the same as participating in them live.  But they're not so bad, and they're a whole lot better than risking your life or someone else's.  Our ancestors have had to put up with a lot more hardships than having to use awesome technology to keep in touch with people during a pandemic.  We can do this!

If someone has used any of these arguments to convince you that you MUST go back to church during COVID, then you've got to examine THEIR motives, and wonder whether they've placed their own desire for you go return to church, over your own physical needs.  

After you wade through other people's motives, it's tiime to examine your own.  You might think that worshiping together is worth YOUR risk of getting sick.  But what about the risk of you infecting the oldest member of the church--somebody's grandma who's well-loved?  Are you willing to risk getting her sick?  I hope that you'll give this some consideration before you return to church during COVID.  Time and time again, the Bible encourages Christians to put the needs of others over our own desires.  Maybe living out your faith means staying home just a little while longer.

It's okay not to go back to church during COVID.  It's also okay not to go back to your church after COVID is done.  No, I'm not saying you should give up church altogether.  But I am saying that maybe during the pandemic, you've been checking out a few other churches through their Zoom meetings, YouTube videos, or other online resources.  If your church has handled this oubreak poorly--if the leadership has shown that their first priorities are church finances or defiantly exercising freedom--then maybe it's time to find a different church.  It's okay for you to spend this time that God has given you to thoughtfully and prayerfully consider whether you should return to the same congregation, or find another one.  Because Proverbs 13:20 says, "Those who walk with the wise grow wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm."

If you feel like maybe you shouldn't go back to church just yet, here are a few ideas to BE the church, even if you don't GO to church:

• Start a small group of like-minded believers and meet in the park where you can socially distance.
• Find a service project that you can do with other people.  Instead of a worship-service, think about what service-worship would look like.
• Connect with other people using social media.  
• If you have extra time on your hands during COVID, call your pastor and ask how you can volunteer.
• If you're concerned about the church's budget, conider increasing your giving during this time of financial pinch.

Remember, the church isn't a building where you meet--it's a group of people who follow Jesus no matter where they are.  Just because you don't return just yet, that doesn't mean you aren't faithful.  It just means you're giving yourself, and others, a little bit of breathing space.

"Church_2" by planetirony is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Dear Former Church Members (If the Shoe Fits)...

Dear Former Church Members (whose congregations I once served as pastor),*

Some of you, with notes of pity or disdain in your voices, have told me, "You've changed."  Well, this is true and untrue at the same time.  Let me explain.

In some ways, it may seem to you that I've changed because you never knew ALL of what I believe.  Because in Southern Baptist churches, where the pastor is employed by the individual congregation rather than by the denomination, every single church member considers themselves the pastor's boss.  This means that Baptist pastors know all too well that they can't put all their cards on the table--whether those cards are political, theological, or social.  When you have a hundred bosses at each church you serve, it keeps you on edge.  Did you know how much you (if the shoe fits) kept me on edge, trying to make you happy while I was serving you?

Because we constantly walk a tightrope, many Baptist pastors (including myself) have learned to keep their opinions about politics to themselves, because if their opinion differs from that of their church members, their jobs might just be on the line.  That's because unfortunately, American Christians often confuse political opinion and religious belief.  So if many of my Republican church members knew that sometimes I vote Democrat, it could have been professionally disastrous.  So I kept my views quiet.  Now, when I voice my political opinion, you say I've changed.  To which I respond--yes, I've changed in that I've learned that now I can actually be like everybody else and express my political opinion.  Isn't that a good thing?

You also say I've changed because I've begun expressing theological opinions that are different from yours.  To which I ask--why did you assume I believed the same as you, anyway?  The beauty of being Baptist is that we believe in the doctrines of the Priesthood of the Believer and Soul Competency.  This means that freedom and individuality is honored in churches--at least, it's supposed to be.  But that has been pretty rare in Southern Baptist churches for the past 40 years or so.  Instead, conformity is preferred, and anybody who differs must certainly be wrong.  Because of the current climate with so much intolerance for difference, many Baptist pastors try to keep everybody happy by keeping the main thing the main thing, without trying to get sidetracked by issues that AREN'T 100% central to salvation message (where salvation is defined as going to heaven when you die because you accepted Jesus as your savior).  Pastors know that if they're growing spiritually and trying out different theological ideas, they'd better not let anybody know about it.  Best to just tow the line.  But now that I'm no longer pastoring your church--I feel freedom to express myself and hopefully let you know that it's okay for you, too, to stretch your wings and fly beyond the expectations of the fundamentalists around you.  You say I've changed.  Yes, I have.  I'm soaring.

You say I've changed in my position on social issues.  Well, that makes sense.  You didn't know about my political mind, and I couldn't share my deepest spiritual thoughts with you, so it's no surprise to me that you're shocked when I express my opinions on social issues and they're different from yours.  Since I'm divorced and remarried, I've had to really evaluate my views on marriage.  With several LGBTQIA+ people in my family, of course I believe in supporting their rights.  You'd believe so too if you knew how many of them are in your family.  And if you don't know how many there are, it's because you've shown them that they can't trust you enough to come out.  You say I've changed when I support Black Lives Matter--but that's only because you assumed my views on race were the same as yours.  Have I changed?  You bet--now that you're not my employer, I have freedom to tell you exactly how I feel.  Which just might be (gasp) different from you.

So yes--I've changed.  In a lot of ways.  If you've known me since I was a young pastor--maybe in my 20s or 30s--you did actually know a more conservative man.  I began to change a lot in my viewpoints about ten years ago.  In some other ways, maybe five years ago.  So if you knew me back in the day, then yes--I've changed in my opinions, perspectives, and views from when you knew me.  But I've changed because I'm open to life teaching me new lessons, because I'm open to God's spirit which still calls me to grow.  An active faith means an adapting one.  Honestly, if YOU haven't changed in the past 10 years, it's probably because you're not growing.  

But let me tell you the ways in which I have NOT changed.  In ministry and in life (yes, those two can be separate things), I have always tried to be motivated by love.  No matter how my family has been formed, I have always tried to love unconditionally and with my whole heart.  I have always been frustrated by "Christians" whose faith has functioned more to exclude people than to include people.  I have always tried to read the Bible through the lens of the Spirit of Jesus, which is more important than tradition.  And I have always tried to be instrumental in leading people to the many types of salvation that Jesus offers.  In these ways, I have remained constant.

Christian friend, it bothers me that you've looked at me with pity or disdain and said, "You've changed"--as if change is a bad thing.  It bothers me for your sake--not for mine.  I mean, in't CHANGE 100% the content of the Gospel message that I preached over 26 years of ministry?  This is the meaning of the word REPENT.  When we're going in the wrong direction, it takes humility before God to faithfully and honestly consider our own mistakes, to turn around, and grow towards God.  Change is also the core of the Christian message, when we understand it in terms of transformation.  This is what the resurrection is all about.  It's about being like Jesus--letting God transform me, like a gnarly old caterpillar coming out of a cocoon, now with legs and beautiful wings, ready to fly.  

So have I changed?  I hope I have--and I'm glad you noticed.

With love,

Greg

*If you're one of my former church members who isn't upset that I've changed, then it's because you're one of the good ones, who recognizes that all people grow, and your former pastor has grown as well.  So this is one of those "if the shoe fits, wear it" kind of articles.  If you're offended by what I've written, then this probably was, in fact, written for you.

Photo credit: "Butterflies!" by Manue@PrettyKiku is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0