“But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.”
– Revelation 2:4
My friend and I shuffled into the seats of the dark auditorium. We had grabbed the popcorn that they were handing out at the front, snacking our way into the buttered smelling halls. As the lights dimmed, a projector whirred, and the familiar jingle of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation began to play.
It was then that my friend and I looked at each other in utter shock and horror.
We were not horrified because we hated Christmas, Chevy Chase, or even this beloved cinematic masterpiece. We were horrified because we did not go to a movie theater.
We had gone to church! Sorry, no, we thought we were going to an Advent service as the first Sunday of December rolled into the cold city of Chicago. We thought we were going to be profoundly impacted by the reality that in the dark winters of our lives hope reigns supreme. This is, after all, what the Advent season is meant to do. Instill within the hearts and lives of saints the world over hope and life and light. In spite of the darkness of the world.
But there he was, twenty feet tall, Chevy Chase making an auditorium of Evangelicals forget what they had first loved.
You see, despite the boring title of this article, I am convinced – and impassioned – to write a piece that you will walk away from feeling renewed, invigorated, refreshed, and hopefully loved by. You will have to forgive me for using big words. This is in no way my attempt to show off, but rather express my passion for this subject. Hopefully by the end of it you will see why.
Now, I need to clarify that I am in no way attempting to be a bellicose opponent to the world of Evangelicalism. The word itself being so vague it would be meaningless to oppose it at all. I am, however, more and more grieved by the moralistic and lackluster tincture that has all but taken over the American Protestant church.
Moreover, this grief is not because moralism is inherently evil. But rather, because it has led to a rather stark ignorance of the biblical story which has caused – on a paradigmatic level – an anemic gospel message.
For those unfamiliar, moralism is the practice of teaching (or in this case “preaching”) a system of morals over a system of doctrine. In other words, the pastor is teaching the congregation about how to be a good person; it is personality management. The pastor may add Bible verses, stories, or use Jesus as a wise teacher, even. But in no way does this reflect the meaning or heart of Christianity. That God became His own required sacrifice to permanently remove the sins of those who believe in the God-ness of Jesus, absolving that human being of incurring the same punishment.
It’s the difference between, “Jesus’ model makes you a better leader” and “You are a terrible leader so thank God Jesus died for you.”
This way of thinking and teaching is not morally evil or even out of step with how the Old Testament authors saw the scriptures. Many Jewish men and women learned how to act with righteousness and justice given the examples of Moses, David, and Ruth. Many hearers of the Shama were moved by the exhortations of Isaiah.
But if we are to believe that “Jesus has been counted worthy of more glory than Moses” (Hebrews 3:3) then we need to return to the heart of Christianity. We need to return to a gospel with substance. That is, we need to return to a methodology of interpretation where Christ is the one on whom we cling – and never let go.
John Calvin wrote The Institutes of the Christian Religion not to catechize school children but as an apologetic for the gospel and its weight. Contrary to what you may believe, I did not write that sentence to sound smart nor to use the biggest words I know. Rather, I tell you this to compare how unrealistically we have pared down our gospel message.
The Institutes are nearly 1000 pages long (in many translations) and serves as a manifesto for the reformed tradition. No one in their right mind would read this out loud at a summer camp! Compare this, however, to a tract I received the other day walking down the street which is three pages long. In fairness, it is front and back.
I tell you this because I think our understanding of the gospel is the most important thing about us. The anemic gospel with which we are presented today is a fruit – not the root – of a disregard for the proper interpretation of scripture.
The way most of us interpret the Bible today actually flies in the face of thousands of years of scholarly biblical interpretation. We have no idea what we are reading because in many ways we have been taught not to care. That was the unfortunate outcome of the protestant reformation: a disregard for authoritative help from dead people and the priest.
Therefore, if we have no idea what we are reading in the Bible, then we do not know how to make sense of it in light of Christ’s revelation to us. That is, that we segment and select parts of scripture that we like – or dislike – instead of seeing how the biblical narrative is the gospel message in its entirety. That’s right! The gospel is not a 5-letter acronym, a trifold tract, or even a one-liner at the end of the sermon. The gospel is the Word of God and the Word of God is Jesus.
Which means that Genesis 19 points us to Jesus. Judges 9 points us to Jesus. Psalm 58 points us to Jesus. Obadiah 1 points us to Jesus. And if you have no idea what these passages are referencing then go read them and be confounded!
The scandal is simple: without understanding them, then our understanding of Jesus is missing a piece.
If we see ourselves in David when he defeats Goliath, but not when he sexually abuses Bathsheba then we have missed the point. Because the Bible shows us that when David is at his best, it is a dim reflection of Jesus’ glory; and when David is at his worst it is a dim reflection of just how much we need Jesus.
And the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection is that even when our wretchedness falls to the levels of David, or Abraham, or Pharaoh – or any other human that has ever lived – we can still be forgiven. We can still be restored. God can, and will, still look upon you. Because the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection was such that His very own righteousness is mapped onto you in spite of your own failings and shortcomings.
It is this very reality that moralism attempts to fill. It is here where I can see the easy misstep of many preachers and teachers as they attempt to fill seats in an empty auditorium. They have traded the very thing they are attempting to obtain with a cheap substitute. They have indeed forgotten the love they first had.
Because if we truly believe that the God who created Heaven and Earth died in our place (in accordance with Genesis) then at the very least that humbles us to see Him as worthy of our praise and adoration. But with humility comes the release of anxiety because we no longer need to strive. With humility comes freedom because we no longer need to be held down by our shame. With humility comes the essence of leadership. With humility comes the very fabric of the universe, as showcased by Jesus Himself: love.
So we can breathe better, we can live better, we can lead better, we can love better not because of some trite comparison to the cool characters of the Bible. But because we understand just how significant the gospel really is in our lives.
This is why I am exhausted by churches who show good movies on Advent in the desperate attempt to fill the seats. I am exhausted by ministries who flaunt good works and high numbers when they can’t even interpret Numbers 5 with Jesus in view. I am exhausted because they have traded the gospel for a cheap substitute, and this is showing in the exodus of people fleeing from the church.
The answer is not, “try harder” it never was. The answer has always been, “it is finished.” And if we can remember that, then we can remember why we became Christians in the first place. We can remember the love we had at first.