God The Liar? |
| Posted by Mark (mark) on Jul 23 2008 |
She was an elderly lady, not unlike many others. Widowed and winnowing away her remaining years in relative peace. Living on a fixed income her life was modest, bordering destitute. But she survived with occasional help from her grown son. Then she started giving away large portions of her monthly pittance. Things grew worse. Her son pleaded with her to stop the generosity, but she continued strong in her faith. A year or two past and her financial situation worsened—but still she hung on doggedly.
No, she wasn’t giving to less fortunate. No, it was not so noble as that in the eyes of circumstance, but in her heart it was genuine and thus I believe it was noble in the eyes of God. So where did she give her money? The local televangelist who had been piped into her home through her beaten old antenna, in all his gaudy glory. His ministry was small in terms of the international scene, but he and his staff lived in copious comfort, that occasionally indulged extravagance. He taught the principles of tithes and offerings promising that God cannot break his word, then showing his audience—which, as is typical, consisted mainly of ne’er-to-do-wells of all types—where exactly these promises God had made were to be found. Malachi was his favorite book to teach from. Then he taught them how to pray and hold God to his word; he taught them the enemy would try to interfere, but that eventually God would come through. It all sounded reasonable and rational in the ears of a weary old widow.
As time rolled on she gave more money; she even diversified her generosity—always making sure it was good ground first, of course! Still, to her great dismay there was never a hundred fold return, not even ten. Thanks to her generous son she physically survived, but spiritually she was dying. What had she done wrong that God hated her so? Why wouldn’t he fulfill his promise?
Like most people who find themselves in that situation, she began arriving at inevitable and infamous questions and theories; and because of her beliefs she was funneled to one conclusion—“God must be angry with me”, or just in general, “it’s my fault, I’ve failed somehow”. There are few alternative conclusions people can arrive at in this situation, because the only other foreseeable answer from their blurred vantage point is that God has failed, broken his word or even lied; which means you’d be accusing the creator of the universe of being a liar. And who has the intestinal fortitude to openly accuse God of failure, or worse, lying?
So, is God a liar? I can ask that question openly and calmly, without a mad dash for the commode, because I know my answer already—No, God is not a liar. So, problem solved, case closed, enough said, the end...wrong. There is a major problem here, our real-life heroine has been dashed against the rocks of reality and wonders why God is rejecting her. In that state, do you think she will enjoy much intimacy with God? Do you think the kingdom will continue to grow in her and spill into all areas of her heart and life? Will she grow more rooted in love and Christ?
Many people have been failed by these kinds of promises found in the bible. Far more won’t admit the failure and just continue rationalizing it and waiting for the big payoff when all their monetary woes will disappear for good. I don’t blame them one bit. It’s far easier to rationalize with emotional clarion calls to keep the faith just a bit longer, then to ask the really difficult questions. I guess we fear what we might find if we stop the hype and examine our beliefs with ruthless honesty. Perhaps we have good reason to fear. It’s not that we’ll find God has failed to live up to his word, his essence—how could he possibly be something other than he is?—but that we have twisted the gospel message so badly, it’s no longer recognizable.
Let me speak plainly without euphemism for a moment—the problem as I see it, at least in part, is that we keep seizing portions of scripture and prying them free of context, and holding them hostage to do our bidding. Then we trot them out like the bear at the circus who rides a bicycle and wears a beanie—it’s our own Jesus carnival I suppose—and abuse them and make them do unnatural things to help us build our empires...er...the kingdom (or to just help affirm us in our doubts). Being charismatic and smart/dumb enough to pander to the desperate masses, it isn’t difficult to pry precious pennies away from the destitute old widows and orphans and whoever else. Only the joke is on the ringleaders because, like the widow in Matthew 12 who put in all she had, God looks upon the hearts of people and sees our intents.
It is not only greasy televangelists (—no, not all televangelists are greasy, just most of them—yes you can laugh, it was a joke...kind of) who abuse scripture so badly. I think most of us do, as it’s how we’ve been taught to look upon the bible. From the insertion of chapter and verse and story titles, to the way we read it, our understanding of the Kingdom narrative seems woefully compartmentalized.
Have you ever noticed the divergence in New Testament stories from their Old Testament counterparts? Of course you have, it’s a stupid question really. But then why do we romanticize biblical icons so readily? Have you ever thought about Abraham, Isaac and Jacob? Or Joseph and David and Solomon? They were all rich, powerful men. They all had many victories. And yes, they had rough times and difficult lessons, but eventually God always came through. Joseph’s redemption came in the form of riches and political power. If you would only endure like Joseph maybe your breakthrough is coming too...sound familiar?
Contrast those stories with Paul and Peter and Stephen and Jesus. Their stories are identical...er...maybe not. They were beaten and stoned and murdered and homeless and imprisoned. They held no positions in government and were not wealthy. When God said Paul would have to suffer for his sake, he wasn’t kidding. Joseph was finally released from prison to run Egypt. Paul, not so much.
Our Old Testament icons were rich and powerful because of their relationship with God, while the Apostles, because of their faithfulness, were persecuted and martyred and had to learn to be content with little or much. It’s no wonder we tend to desire the Old Testament stories for ourselves. We preach sermons of monetary and physical redemption that arouse the ego, yet you never see Paul do that. I wonder if we’ve lost sight of true riches? Paul preached that what we suffer now is nothing compared with the glory of what is coming eternally; he exhorted us to finish the race allowing God to perfect our faith in perseverance; he said God’s strength is perfect in our weakness. Jesus taught us to love our enemies, not crush them as David once did.
The Old Testament stories are but a shadow of what was to come, yet we desire the shadow? We have been imbued with Holy Spirit and the kingdom of God. Jesus literally dwells within us, yet we long for the days of Abraham and Isaac? Something is not right here. No wonder we can so easily puff up the masses with promises of monetary salvation and positions of power.
Will some receive those hollow promises? Maybe. Will some never see it? Definitely. Perhaps most won’t see it—not the way we promise. Those aren’t the goal, or the sign of God’s indwelling and kingdom. Do you remember he gave the kingdom first to the poor and destitute of this world? God has done something far better, and we no longer settle for the shadow of his kingdom, but actually have it. Being prominent and wealthy in the world is not the reward of the kingdom. Blessing is redefined in the kingdom. It is him. It is to know him. It is not power and money and comfort and ease. Monetary excess is not necessary to know him, for: they will all know me from the greatest to the least.
Am I saying we should all take vows of poverty? No, that is the other ditch and does not understand the transcendence, the very nature of the kingdom. But there is a power in poverty that few dare explore. It is a poverty of rights and demands of fairness. It is a poverty of self-government. It is the choice to be a bond-slave. It is self-sacrifice. It is rich in love and peace and contentment. It is rich in deference. It is rich in trust, mercy and redemption. It is rich in freedom; the kind of freedom that knows God works all things for the good of those who love him; even terrible things. And it all starts with but a spark of faith, that births love, which begins to grow into kingdom life.
Is God a liar? No, but we represent him as that when we reduce scripture to formulas and systems for living. Can we not see that Jesus fulfilled the law? Can we not see that Jesus is our tithe and offering? That his blood has rebuked the devourer from us eternally? That the world can take our physical freedom and wealth; it can trample us underfoot and even take our lives; but they cannot take the kingdom from us; they cannot separate us from the love of God; that Jesus now holds the keys to life and death; that the more they trample us the more the sweet fragrance of love will woo hearts into the kingdom? Yes, there is a power in poverty; and it is a poverty of worldly ways and means; it is a poverty of worldly rights and demands; it is a poverty of cunning and strategy; it is a poverty of worldly uses of power and manipulation. God has not lied. He has fulfilled every promise in Christ Jesus—and that, you may discover, is more than any earthly promise of physical or monetary redemption.
We romanticize our heroes of the faith, both Old, New and Post testament. We pour money and time into ministries that are rich in worldly wisdom. We believe men who make God into a liar, and put enmity between us and the Father. When will we stop using New Testament terms to describe Old Testament teachings? When will we see the kingdom narrative for what it is? I suspect it coincides with the beginning of poverty; with the beginning of sacrifice.
Last changed: Jul 23 2008 at 8:31 PM
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