Why We're All Pharisees, Part Deux: We Are A Brood Of Vipers

Christ came primarily to earth to die in our place. He bore the weight of our sin and God's wrath.

However, in the meantime, He did a lot of other cool stuff. He taught, confronted, showed compassion,and loved.

One of the things He came to do was to destroy the political, social, and economic barriers that existed. I'm not arguing for a pure social gospel, although there are merits to that.

What I am saying is that Christ completely busted people's cliques, social circles, religious groupings, and safety nets. He especially concentrated on the Pharisees.

How many times did he tick those guys off? He blatantly broke their rules to prove points. He didn't wash hands like they wanted. He healed on the Sabbath. He spoke to tax collectors, Gentiles, adulterers, the infirm, and everyone else the Pharisees didn't want in their synagogue.

We read those stories in Sunday School, hear them preached and think two things.

First we think, "How dare those Pharisees act like that toward Jesus and those poor sinners!" Of course, we'd never do that. Would we?

Secondly, we think, "Well, those sinners must have been just fine after they met Christ. They must have said a sinners prayer or whatever we do these days and been right as rain."

As to the first statement, isn't it interesting how our churches look? I'm speaking in broad generalities, of course, but visit a church sometime and you won't see much different from one end of the spectrum to the other.

For instance, visit the local First Baptist and you'll likely find upper class to middle class people (and maybe a small percentage of lower middle class). They flock together in church. Just like our neighborhoods, we tend to live near people like us and we find people like us to worship with.

What's worse, there are some in church who will find the opportunity to look down on those who are less than them. The upper-class will look down on the middle or lower class.  The middle class will look down on the lower class and even be envious or judgmental of the upper class.

Take it a step further and visit a poor rural church filled with lower middle class to poverty level people. They might even have a somewhat wealthy family there that everyone looks up to (that even might run the show) that everyone is silently envious of. But some of the lower class will look down on the poverty stricken and the poverty stricken will look down on those lower than them.

It's our sinful, human nature. And it's Pharisaical.

The Pharisees were admired in their time for their wisdom. Not all of them were bad men. People came to them for life, religious, and practical advice. Unfortunately, their knowledge puffed them up and they began to look down on many people - the tax collectors, the sinful, the adulterous, the outcasts, and eventually Jesus.

It makes you wonder how the church today would treat Jesus if He came and visited our churches one Sunday. Would we recognize Him? Because I guarantee He'd bring people with Him we wouldn't want gracing the doors of our church.

He'd bring struggling homosexuals, those dealing with drug and alcohol addictions, prostitutes who are looking for the truth, strippers who are struggling to make ends meet and need help, ex-cons, the crippled, former pedophiles, and yes, people who had been caught in adultery.

Can you see it? Church people would be squirming in their seats.

What do we do with "those people" when they come to our churches today? We sent them off to counselors. We send them off to places where they can be "rehabilitated." Why? Because we don't want to have to deal with them.

Why? Because they don't belong in our worship circle. That, my friends, is Pharisaical. And that is counter to everything Christ taught us.

Let's take it one step further. We ought to be going out looking to win those people to Christ. To help them find the Savior who didn't just die for the white bread Christians in the nice neighborhoods, but for all men and women.

No wonder people reject church and Christ. They walk into our fellowships and see no one like them.

Christ sought out those who didn't look anything like the people in synagogue. Even the disciples chided him for his association with outsiders.

I'm guilty too. On three different occasions, I had three different people coming to Angel Falls who didn't fit the mold. I had a struggling alcoholic, an ex-Marine who had post-traumatic stress, and a family who lived out in the sticks who smelled really bad. I stood by all of them. I liked the fact that it made the congregation really uncomfortable. But they never lasted. I failed them.

As to the second point - that the sinners Christ met were instantly changed and were fine from that point forward - there's no evidence of that. Heck, even Peter struggled throughout the New Testament. He had to be publicly rebuked by Paul.

New Christians struggle. They fall again and again. And the church better be ready to pick them up and not give up.

We're so happy to see someone walk down the aisle and renounce their sin and follow Christ. To give up alcohol or a life of violence. But what happens when that person falls back a few months later and stops coming to church? A lot of churches give up.

Would Christ? No.

If Christ were here he'd probably look at a lot of us, sitting in our pews and say, "you hypocrites. You brood of vipers, you Pharisees. All of you are the same! I came for all of you in this community! Every single one of you is the same! I didn't come so you could sit stagnant in this place while the world is dying around you so you could watch it go to hell!"

I like to say that in our community, you can't throw a rock in the air without hitting a church or a Chinese restaurant. With so many churches, there has to be a place for all of these souls that need love and compassion.

Will we take the time to humble ourselves before Christ and recognize our Pharisaical attitude? Or will we continue on with business as usual? Will we continue to throw money at programs and let others do the work? Or will we begin to make our churches places where judgment is not leveled and where all may come to know Christ?

Why Churches Aren't Growing: Transparency And The Fallen Church

So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. (Matthew 5:23-24 ESV)

I write a lot about reconciliation and forgiveness. There are several reasons for this.

First, I was horrible at it before I fell. I was an awful example to my family, my friends, and my congregation. I now know what it's like to be the one who desperately wants to be reconciled with people I have harmed.

Secondly, one of my reasons for blogging is that I want to see churches and fallen pastors reconcile. Some churches actually handle the process the right way. They approach the pastor when they discover his indiscretion, they help he and his family get help as they depart and stay in contact with him.

However, this is a rarity. Most churches harbor bitterness, anger, and never get over the event. I do not believe this is the will of Christ. As the verse above states (and many others), those who have been sinned against should be the initiators of reconciliation and forgiveness. As I have stated before, this does not mean letting the minister back to a place of authority necessarily, but it does mean love and forgiveness.

There are a lot of verses about forgiveness. Some put the onus on the one who sinned. But the verse above and others put the responsibility on the one who was sinned against. 

In the Southern Baptist Convention, there are literally hundreds of churches that have been hurt by fallen pastors. These churches have not made amends or reconciled with these pastors.

Do not hear me placing full blame on these churches. If you've read my previous posts on the matter, you will know that is not how I feel. These men fell and sinned. Sometimes, they get pompous after their fall and immediately try to return to ministry. They become recalcitrant and egotistical. I understand that.

However, there is a responsibility for churches to reconcile with fallen pastors.

The majority of our Southern Baptist churches are not growing. There are many reasons for this. Could I suggest that one of the many reasons for it is that we have a lot of junk in our souls that needs to be cleansed?

I know of one local church whose pastor left forty years ago on bad terms. He didn't even sin morally. It was just a bad situation where he got into an argument with a deacon and his family who "ran the church." Ever since that time, the church has replaced the pastor every three years like clockwork. The family who was "in charge" is still there running the show.

When you ask an outsider what is going on at that church they always point back at the event that happened forty years ago. That's a shame.

That makes me concerned about churches all across the nation. It makes me concerned about the church where I fell, and it is my fault. It makes me concerned about the churches where other pastors fell who haven't taken the time to heal or reconcile with the pastor.

Two things are happening in churches like that. First, a dynamic of distrust can set in where congregations will always have a weary eye of the pastor. And secondly, if the people never forgive, there is the constant sin of unforgiveness in the midst that will hinder worship, growth, and spiritual awareness.

I had a funny thought about evangelism as well. Would churches effected by a fall be less likely to evangelize? Would they be less likely to invite people in knowing that they might have potential sins to deal with?

Since I fell, I've been called a lot of things. Since I consider this a "family friendly" blog, I won't mention the not so nice ones.

However, the one thing I've been called most often on this blog is "transparent." I consider that a compliment, even though I'm hiding behind a pseudonym.

In our Southern Baptist churches, we do a superb job of putting on a "happy face" each Sunday. We sit up straight, sing when we're cued to, and shake hands.  

If you have kids though, you know that the ride to church is completely different. "Don't hit your sister! Be quiet back there! You'd better stop complaining about going to church! Don't act up during the sermon this week!"

And each Sunday during Sunday School a topic will come up and we'll shake our heads at the sinful topic brought up. Lust? "We shouldn't do that, but you know everyone struggles once in a while." Greed? "That's a terrible thing, we should store up our treasures in heaven." Anger? "Well, righteous anger is fine, but Jesus said love your neighbor."

What if we were transparent during Sunday School? Lust? "Yes, I fight it daily, friends. Each day I struggle. Will you please pray for me?" Greed? "I've run three credit cards past their limit and it's out of control." Anger? "Me and my wife are having problems. I need help from someone. Can anyone here help me?"

What about during the week? What if we acted at church like we did at work? What if the pastor walked in on us at our most sinful moment? What if people saw us worried about our finances, fighting with our spouses, angry with our co-workers, cussing at the mechanic who messed up our car, kicking the cat, etc.?

If we acted at church like we did during the week - now that would be transparent. To have people see us as we really are - broken, sinful, wrecked, miserable, depressed. Because under those Baptist smiles are broken, sinful people who really need help.

When I was a pastor and would go to my bi-vocational job, people would cuss in front of me without knowing I was a pastor. When they found out, they'd say, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a preacher."

I'd say, "Why are you sorry to me? You didn't do anything to me. Be yourself."

Why don't we act around our church friends like we do around our weekday friends? Because we're hypocrites. We're not transparent.

But guess what? God sees right through us. And yet, He loves us still. He shows us grace and mercy.

But, if one of us sees a church member sin or a church leader fall, we judge them harshly. And quickly. And we gossip. No grace. No mercy. Only judgment.

Know why we're in decline? Because most of us (and I'm including myself in this) don't look a thing like Christ and His grace when it comes to dealing with one another, much less non-Christians.

We haven't forgiven those who have sinned against us. We harbor anger, bitterness and rage when long ago we should have reached out and shown mercy as Christ has shown to us.

But strangely enough, each of us will pile into our cars on Sunday, looking our best, put on our Baptist smiles and push down our troubles.

It doesn't have to be that way. If we were all transparent, if we left our Baptist smiles at the door, shared our hurts with one another, reconciled our pasts, then looked out into our community and realized that we're just like everyone else, we might just be fueled for evangelism.

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.
(Matthew 6:1 ESV)

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.

Christian Reality TV, Lord Help Us All

I'm still alive. I am. I promise.

Honestly. I've taken two Ambien tonight (they're my prescription before you ask) and I'm not tired.

So, I thought I'd blog while my lovely wife Cynthia is fast asleep. She's been dealing with some health issues lately, so please pray for her.

I heard a radio personality go on recently about reality TV. I'm not a fan personally. I can't stand the stuff. I think I watched the first season of Survivor then swore off of it. However, the radio guy made a good point - people watch it because it is filled with conflict. People are drawn to personalities and especially conflict. Right?

We saw Donald Trump and his show about big business - and it was filled with conflict. We watch people go across the country and it's filled with conflict. We watch people live in houses together - why? Because of the conflict.

One thing, however, that we've never watched - and you know where I'm going - is a reality show based on a church.

What would happen if some large network was actually able to get into a church - into the inner workings of a church and show what really happened? Don't get me started.

Let me be honest though. There are some big churches that wouldn't show you what really happens. They'd put on "church face" and put on the idea that everything is just cozy and wonderful. But it's a dang lie. You know what? Jesus' own disciples had serious problems. Didn't they? Weren't the gospels and Acts a pretty good reality show? I mean Ananias and his wife were a disaster in the early church. What church members get killed for lying about giving? Weren't there issues there just about every chapter?

But if we sent a camera crew to a whitewashed Southern Baptist church, they wouldn't want you to see their warts, would they? Because it would be bad for the press. It would hurt membership to know that the leadership was in such disarray. To hear some of the things the pastor and staff said about the members - and in turn, some of the things the membership said about the leadership.

We want "church faces" on every week. It's good to be smug. Good to be in our places when the cameras are rolling so that we all seem so non-vulnerable for the world.

But Lord, who's like that? Scripture doesn't present anyone that way. It presents person after person as a fallen human being. As someone broken in need of a redeemer. Not as someone who shows up in church in a suit or Easter bonnet. When someone shows up in church with their hair out of place, in jeans, and they smell bad, we get a little nervous.

What if the reality show went to a rural church - like the one I pastored? And they saw the nitty gritty of how people were? What if they saw how nasty people could be? What if they saw how jaded the pastor had become after a decade of work? What if they saw people complaining over carpet color? What if they saw people complacent after sitting in a pew despite the fact that the Word of God was being preached?

I'll tell you what, the higher ups at the SBC wouldn't like a show like that. They'd fight it.

But it's reality.

And a lot of people sitting at home would say, "That's why I don't go to church. Bunch of hypocrites."

And if I was still the pastor there, I'd think, "I don't blame them. But I love those people. How can I reach them?" And my heart would break. Because inside the church I had people who thought their hearts were right but they were full of pride. Outside the church, I had people who knew they needed help but didn't want to come near it because of the prideful people within. And within the church, there was me. A sinful man who wasn't right to lead any of them.

And now, I find myself rejected by a church I just recently joined. The pastor had welcomed Cynthia and me in. I told him to tell the deacons about my past, but he said there wouldn't be any need. But after a few months, a member found out and started making noise about it. The pastor realized that he should have said something and asked us in a round about way to make ourselves scarce, despite the fact that we're trying to live right now.

I have friends now who I never would have had before. They tell me that they would never step foot inside a church because it's (you know what I'm about to say) full of hypocrites. People who act better than them, but aren't. They're the same people they went to high school with, who they see acting just like them six days a week but on Sunday they get their Christian best on.

Almost a decade ago I would have defended the church goers to these people. But now? I'm starting to see their point. Maybe we do need a church reality TV series.
Lord help us all.