The Hypocrisy of the Sunday School Lesson

I've been thinking too much lately. Blame the medication. Blame my never ending search for a church to join. Or just blame the cynicism that is inherent within me.

I've been thinking about the faulty way we read Scripture. It's worse than I thought. I'm just as guilty as anyone. Maybe worse. Even worse than when I pastored. I think I've/we've been reading Scripture wrong our entire lives. We've missed the point.

Now, don't take me for one of those Jesus seminar people. Please.

But here's the deal. We read the stories of those hideous Pharisees and we condemn them. We tell them to the kids in Sunday School and we say, "You don't want to be like them, do you?" Of course they don't. Those guys were jerks, right?

None of us would ever identify ourselves with Pharisees, would we? Not for a second.

Think about some of the stories. Christ heals a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath. The Pharisees get bent out of shape. We tell our Sunday School classes that those jerky Pharisees were out of line. We know the story, right? We know how it ends! Those guys should have known better. How dare they! They should have known that Christ was in their midst and shouldn't have been so darn picky. Sabbath made for man, etc.

What about the woman caught in adultery? Those guys set that woman up. We know how that story ends as well. We're supposed to forgive that woman and know that it was unfair for those Pharisees/Scribes/crowd to be so angry with her. Christ took her side and forgave her. How dare they! Listen, Sunday School class, we need to be like Christ. Be forgiving, be loving. Don't be like those Pharisees. Love the sinner, hate the sin.

In Sunday School, we do so well for an hour. We paint our picket signs that read, "Love Christ! Love the Sinner! Don't be self-righteous!" And we feel so good about our Christianity for two hours on Sunday.

Then we go out to lunch to Ryan's Steakhouse and we forget it all.

On Monday, someone commits adultery against us. Or one of our friends. Someone commits a great sin against us. Or, like the man with a withered hand, someone violates one of our "sacred rules." And we get bent out of shape.

We forget the Sunday School lesson. It was forgotten the second we walked out the doors of the church, wasn't it?

Know why? Because it was okay for Christ to forgive those people. We knew how those stories ended. We're supposed to love the man with a withered hand. We're supposed to forgive the adulterous woman in John 8. Know why? Because we'll never see those people. They're text. They're black and white. They're not real. We'll never see them.

But to heck with the sinners we meet Monday through Saturday. They're in big trouble. Especially when they cross our path or when they violate our rules.

But heck. We're not Pharisees. We're just practicing righteous anger - the sinner must be punished. I used to think that way. Christ used anger when he was in the temple, so why can't I?

And when I get to church Sunday, I'll tell my friends about what happened to me this week (it's not gossip, of course when I'm telling church people) and they'll tell me I did the right thing. Instead of forgiving the sin that was done to me, I got angry and reciprocated. I won't see the disconnect with what I heard in church last week or this week, but it won't matter.

Know why? Because church is just something I do. Those stories are just stories. It's all good and well for Jesus to do those things.

I'll sit in the pew and sing my songs about the love of Christ and maybe even listen to a sermon on loving my neighbor.

But don't cross me. And don't expect me to act any different than a Pharis... What I mean is, I'll act just like a disciple of Christ.