Is He Truly Evangelical?

Someone sent me an article last week about “6 Questions Evangelicals Are Going to Have to Answer” (or some such title).  They followed it up with another one, under a title like “50 Products Evangelicals Are Going to Have to Stop Buying.”

Note: that second article was rather sarcastic, poking fun at people who have boycotted one company because of their stance on some moral issue but continuing to patronize other companies with the same stance.

The articles were almost interesting enough to read all the way through, but they both assumed, as might be said on a lawyerly TV show, facts not in evidence.  Mainly, that I do not now and never have claimed to be an evangelical.  In fact, in 20+ years of ministry, I have only had one conversation about being evangelical.  It went something like this:

Church member: Well it just seems that if we’re going to call ourselves an evangelical church—

Me:  What?  When did we do that?

It was reminiscent of another time when a man who had been visiting the church for quite a while (along with his family, his son even playing on the “worship team”) asked me to come over to his house to talk about some thing.  I did and he began to bring up a point of doctrine he had heard me express in a sermon recently that he didn’t agree with.  He gave his view, I stated mine, then he said—with something like consternation—“But I’ve been in Baptist churches all my life and even went to a Baptist college and this is how it’s always done!”

I calmly told him, “But this isn’t a Baptist church and I’m not a Baptist.”  He had no idea what I meant.  In his mind, there was only one denomination in America: Baptists; and everyone believed the same.  Surprisingly, he continued to come to church with us but I’m not sure we ever convinced him we weren’t a Baptist church.

So, anyway, I read the articles with varying degrees of interest about which prominent preachers have or have not left “evangelicalism”.  Some of them I find interesting because the salient points are interesting: is this guy preaching universalism? Has this guy denied the virgin birth?  Is this guy saying that some sins aren’t sins anymore?  How come that one guy swears during interviews?  Isn’t he smart enough to think of better words?

In my own mind, I might ask the question, “Is what this guy (or gal) is teaching sound doctrine?”  If the answer seems to me—from my understanding of Scripture—to be “no” … I don’t know that I doubt their salvation but I do start taking anything else they have said or written with a grain of salt.  Are they still “good evangelicals”, though?  I don’t care.

“Evangelical” is not a Scriptural term.  And while it might have had some value and meaning at one time, in reality it’s just another buzz word that may well have outlived its shelf life because it no longer has an agreed-upon meaning.  Like “missional” or “seeker friendly” or “GWRBI”.

If someone asks me if I think Pastor __________ (fill in the blank of the favorite pastor flavor du jour) has left the evangelical reservation, I’ll ask what specific doctrinal point has them troubled and go from there.  If they call me “evangelical” (I don’t know why they would start now as I don’t think anyone ever has), I won’t be offended.  At most, I might ask them what they mean by it.  If they say I have left evangelicalism, I’ll do my best Jerry Seinfeld imitation and ask (at the top of my lungs), “How can I be outed?  I was never in!”

What do I call myself, if not evangelical, missional, or daoist (or whatever, I don’t mean to insult any daoists out there)?  It may be a cliché, but I like the old saying: “We are not the only Christians, but we are Christians only.”

Judgment Day

I must confess: I don’t get Judgment Day.

Oh, I have read the Scriptures.  I’ve read in Matthew 25 of how all the nations of the earth (presumably past and present) will gather before Jesus’s throne and everyone will be divided into sheep and goats.  Sheep get eternal life in heaven, goats get eternal punishment.

I’ve also read about how the people of the Old Testament, especially the Psalmists, seem to view judgment day differently from the Christian mindset.  Whereas I tend to view Judgment Day as me being the defendant with Jesus as my attorney, the Psalmist’s mindset seems to be one of a plaintiff arguing before God against those who “done him wrong”.  [Note: the phrase “done him wrong” rarely appears in Scripture, I just threw it in here because it’s how I talk/think.]

I understand all that.  It makes me shudder at times, but I understand it.

What I’m confused about—and this is probably all me—is why there will be a Judgment Day at all.  And I realize that I (and others, if I read them right) may have been preaching—especially at funerals—as if there won’t be a Judgment Day.

Think about it: how many times have you been to a funeral and heard the minister (maybe even me) proclaim that the person who has passed away, because Jesus was their Lord and savior, is now happily ensconced in heaven?  I’ve heard that.  I’ve said that.

If it’s true, what happened to the Judgment Day?

Auntie Mae passes away on Wednesday.  We have the funeral on Friday, wherein we proclaim her happily rejoicing with the angels.  Was Judgment Day on Thursday and the rest of us missed it?  Is Auntie Mae rejoicing in Purgatory (not the ski area)?  Is there a purgatory?  (The ski area is called “Durango Mountain” now, which really bugs me.)

I actually have an answer to these questions—which I will get to in another blog—but my question I’m trying to address here is why there needs to be a “Judgment Day” (possibly all-caps) at all.  Couldn’t God just take me from my death bed straight into heaven?  He knows whether I’ve trusted my life to his Son or not.  Why is the (from my perspective) rigmarole of Judgment Day necessary?  To that person who hasn’t trusted in him, who has chosen to be a goat, God knows that, too.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not arguing against Judgment Day.  Scripture says there will be one, so I trust there will be.  And I am confident I won’t be confused there, or afraid of the outcome.  I just don’t get it.

Thankfully, knowing why God does what he does is not a criteria for salvation!

Do All Things Really Work Together for Good?

I had gone to the hospital to pray with a couple I knew whose young child was facing serious medical problems.  As we stood around the bed after praying, the child’s mother said, “I know the Bible says all things work together for good and that’s what I’m holding on to.”

Politely, I asked if I could read the passage to her and the child’s father and they nodded appreciatively.  So I read Romans 8:28 to them, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

That’s really quite different from what she quoted to me.  It is also quite different from what she wanted.  She wanted God to work things out according to her conception of “good” on her conception of “when” with no responsibility for either herself or the child’s father.

Can God do that?  Sure.  Has God worked miracles for people who weren’t following him?  Yes, he has.

I’m not here to argue that.  This blog just concerns things that are on my mind and something I have been thinking about in relation to this event—and others like it before and since—is when people try to “claim” only the portion of God’s promise they want to claim.

Look at the verse (and, better yet, go back and look at the whole passage).  For whom does it say God works everything together for good?  Is it a blanket statement for all mankind?  No.  It is for those who love him and are called according to his purpose.

The woman in question was not married to the baby’s father, nor did she have any intention of marrying him.  She didn’t have—as far I could tell—any sort of formal relationship with God.  I had known them for quite a while, had been in their home, and had learned that they owned a Bible but didn’t know where it was, “prayed, but not regularly” and yet here they wanted to claim a promise of God’s that seemed convenient to them.

Remember cereal box top offers?  “Send in 8 box tops and get the Captain Midnight decoder ring!”  What did they send you if you sent in 7 box tops and a good intention?  (Hint: not the ring!)

I’m not saying God works like the promotions department of a breakfast cereal corporation, but I am wondering why we expect the cereal company to live up to their stated bargain but expect less from God.

“Well, God knows my heart!”  Yes, he does.  He knows you invoke his name but don’t pursue him.  He knows you have his word in your possession but take no effort to read it.  He knows you claim love and fidelity but aren’t committed enough to the idea to call up the Justice of the Peace.  If God were the cereal company, don’t you think he’d be saying, “Um, you only have four of the eight box tops and two of them are from the wrong cereal”?

On the other hand, I firmly believe the promise is still valid.  If we love him and accept his calling on our lives, he really will work all things together for our good.

(Does this mean I'll never get sick again, no more flat tires, no leaky roofs?  No.  We live in a broken world.  But we don't have to stay in a broken world.  We have the promise held out of an eternal, good world.)

To Judge or Not to Judge, that is the Question

Ever had this happen to you?  You see a brother who appears to be engaged in some sort of sinful activity.  You approach them with concern, only to be told, “Judge not, lest ye be judged!”

Never mind the fact that this person would never use the words “lest” or “ye” in any other context, and that they only partially quoted a Scripture and couldn’t narrow down it’s location to anything more than “somewhere in the Bible”, it shut you up, didn’t it?  Because you know, whether the person quoting knew it or not, that Jesus really did say that.

Look at the actual passage.  I’m sure you know where it is, but just in case, it’s at Matthew 7:1-2, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

That seems pretty straightforward, doesn’t it?  Unless … we read these verses from Paul: 1 Corinthians 6:1-3, “When one of you has a grievance against another, does he dare go to law before the unrighteous instead of the saints?  Or do you not know that the saints will judge the world? And if the world is to be judged by you, are you incompetent to try trivial cases?  Do you not know that we are to judge angels? How much more, then, matters pertaining to this life!”

Wait a minute, did Paul just contradict Jesus?  Are we supposed to judge or not?  Or, maybe it’s OK to judge angels but not people?

Before we answer that question, let’s look back at what Jesus said next back there in Matthew 7:3-5, “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?  How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?  You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

Now, if I see a speck of sawdust in my brother’s eye, I’m just supposed to ignore it, right?  No, that’s not what it says, is it?  What I’m supposed to do is take the plank out of my own eye, and then I’m supposed to remove the speck in my brother’s eye.  (i.e., my problem is bigger than his!)

Go back to my first paragraph.  This brother (or sister) I have seen engaged in sin, how did I approach them?  With a purity of heart or self-righteousness?  Years ago, Joe Martin drew a cartoon depicting the “lowest level of authority”.  A guy in a jail cell is looking out a window and shouting at someone (we can’t see), “Hey, you!  Get away from there!”  Is my approach to my brother the same?  Is he going to look at me and see the log in my eye (or the jail of my sins surrounding me) and think, “Who’s this guy to tell me anything?”

Or, will he—or she—see someone who, as Paul admonishes elsewhere, speaks the truth in love?

See, what our world wants to object to—and we Christians have let them set the standard here—is to eliminate both judging and judgment.  What’s the difference?  It’s a poor illustration, but maybe I know from previous conversations that you are a recovering alcoholic and I see you going into the liquor store.  Judgment, informed by a heart that is given over to God, sees that and reaches out in love to give you a hand.  To give you a friendly and helpful reminder to stay on the wagon.

Judging, on the other hand (and this is what’s condemned), sees you entering that liquor store and pronounces, “Well, that guy’s lost!  He’s off the wagon and drinking again.  No point in wasting any more time on him!”  The self-righteous log in my own eye has made this pronouncement because I am seeing myself as God’s judge, jury and executioner.

Judgment, which is encouraged, combined with love, means I approach you.  Maybe I find out you’re not off the wagon, you’re just needing a lot of boxes to help a friend move and everyone knows the best place for boxes is a liquor store.  Or, maybe you were just about to jump off the wagon.  If I have approached in love, as a brother, you might be a little embarrassed or even chagrined, but you’re eventually thankful.

And see, within this, is another element that is often left out of this equation: brother.  (Or sister.)  Both Jesus and Paul are talking about our relationships with people who are in the kingdom of God with us.  You know, elsewhere, Paul says the first piece of godly armor we are to put on is the “belt of truth”.  I am convinced this is not just the belt of “telling the truth” but of also “hearing the truth”.  I don’t like having my faults and sins pointed out to me, but then again, I know it needs to be done.  Sometimes, I don’t take the correction too well at first, but if I’m letting the Holy Spirit work on me, I come to see its value.

The world (or Satan, who’s leading this charge) doesn’t want us to think this way.  If I see a brother or sister in Christ doing something questionable, I’m just supposed to shut up and not say anything because “who am I to judge?”  Where does that attitude get us, though?  “Little” sins that grow into big problems because they were never addressed.  I’m not saying we take after the Enemy and prowl around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour, but in our dealings with our brothers and sisters in Christ, let’s hold each other up to a loving, Godly standard.  Use the judgment he has given us.  And when the logs are out of our own eyes, he says we’ll be able to see the speck in our brother’s eye better.