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