How Religion can Devastate You

Did you ever hear a saying that just stuck in your mind?     In the 80s, it could have beenwhen Nancy Reagan said, “Just say no.”  Does anyone remember that?   Or maybe it was the old lady at Wendy’s asking “Where’s the Beef?”  Today, it could even be that duck, you know the one.  AFLAC!

Those sayings may inspire us or amuse us.  They may irritate us.  But we can’t forget them.  And every now and then, we hear a saying, and it does more than that.  In its words, we see things in a new way.  Years ago, a quote from the book, The Hiding Place did that for me.   This book tells the story of the Ten Boom family who hid Jews in Holland during the Holocaust.   The Ten Booms did it because of their Christian faith, but not all the church folks in Holland saw it the same way.   While the Ten Booms hid the Jews, other church folks helped the Nazis find them.   When one of the daughters, Corrie, asks her father, “How can this be?” Her father simply replies. “Corrie, just because a mouse is in the cookie jar, doesn’t make it a cookie.”   I heard that, and I never forgot it.

But the church folks who worked with the Nazis, at least some of them, must have thought they were doing the right thing.  How could they miss the boat so completely?  Here they were mice in the cookie jar, but they didn’t know that.  They honestly thought they were cookies. 

Strangely enough, this happens, and not just in Nazi Germany.  It has happened ever since the beginning of the church, and it is happening now.  People regularly attend worship, give generously, go to Bible studies, even lead them, heck, even become elders or pastors, and still don’t get it.  They believe all the right things, obey all the rules, and yet never experience the gospel at all.   They think they’re cookies.  They’re doing all the cookie things.  But they’re not.  They’re not at all.  

How can this be?  More importantly, what are the signs that show if you’ve truly become a cookie or not?   How can you know?  In this incredibly famous story, Jesus shows us the way.  Let’s listen and here what Jesus has to say.

As we take up the story, the younger son, who not only demanded his inheritance from his father, but then blew it all recklessly, has decided to come home and seek to make restitution for his mistakes.  Listen and hear how the story ends.

Luke 15:17-32      

When people heard the first part of the story, of how this Father welcomed this younger son back after his disrespect, his squandering of his father’s wealth, it stunned them.  But this second part stunned them more!   Why?  Because Jesus was making clear that the older son was lost too.   And Jesus ends the story with him still being lost.   The bad boy gets welcomed home to the feast of salvation.   But the older son, the dutiful one, the faithful one, the good one finds himself outside the door.

In this story, Jesus makes a stunning assertion.   Jesus says that you can be far from God, not simply by being very bad.   You can be far from God by being very good.   How can this be?  Well, let’s look at the story. 

Can you imagine how happy this father must have been to have this son he thought was dead home safe and sound?  He must have been devastated at his absence. But now he has him back in his arms.  This homecoming means everything to him. The older son had to know this.  But instead of joining in his father’s joy, he angrily stays outside.  And why is he angry?   He is angry about all that the father is spending, especially that fatted calf.   All he can see is the costly meal, a meal he never got.        

Now we might have some sympathy for this older son, but in his reaction Jesus is making a profound point.   These two brothers are painfully alike.   They both want to get the father’s things.   They just go about it in two different ways.   One does it by being very bad.   And the other does it by being very good.    

And ironically Jesus ends the story with the bad boy being welcomed into the feast of salvation.  But Jesus leaves the older one outside, alienated from the father, absent from the feast.   Why does Jesus do that?

Well, first, let’s understand how this older brother is lost.   What is so wrong about his being so good?  Is it bad to be good?   Of course not.   But Jesus is saying, when it comes to your relationship with God, it’s deadly to be good for the wrong reasons.   If you come to God with the understanding that if I am a reasonably good person, if I do the right things, then God will be pleased with me, and will welcome me into heaven, that understanding will devastate you.   Why?   If that’s what you believe, then God may be your leader, your guide, your example, but he can’t be your savior.   You’re your own savior.   You think.  Your own goodness will save you.  And it won’t.  It can’t.   And that’s what this son is doing.  He is trying to earn his son-ship, as if it’s a transaction between him and his dad.   But you don’t earn your place in God’s family.   God’s graciously gives it to you.   

So that’s how the older brother is lost.  But still why does Jesus leave him outside?  Because it’s a lot easier for younger brothers to get saved than older ones.  Why?  Well, think about it.   If you go the route of the younger brother, you know you’ve screwed up, right?  If you’re lost like that, it’s clear that you’re lost.  But when you’re lost like the older brother, you don’t think you’re lost.   How can you be lost?  You’re doing all the right things.  And that makes you so, so, so lost.   After all, where do you find older brothers?   You find them at church.

Many years ago, I was teaching an evangelism course at the church I served on Long Island.  It turned out to be just two people, a woman who was our church’s biggest giver, and a man who led our mission work in El Salvador.   One night, I began talking about how we bring people into a relationship with Christ, how it is God’s goodness and grace that has to save us not our own.   And both of them had this puzzled look on their faces.   I asked them?  Am I not being clear?   And each of them said, “No, you’re being very clear.  It’s just I don’t think I’ve done that.”    To be honest, I couldn’t believe it.   I asked.  “Well, why are you so involved? Why do you give so much?”   Well, they said.  “That’s what God expects of us.  We want to do what God wants.”   But I replied, “You’ve never realized that none of that will save you.”    And they both said, “Yes”    So that night, both of these dedicated leaders of that church became Christians for the first time.    Now if you had asked me before that night, if these folks were Christians, I would have said.  “Are you kidding me?  Of course they are!”   Heck, they would have said the same thing.    But here’s the stunning truth.   Until that night, they weren’t. They weren’t at all.

So if this sort of lost-ness can be so hard to see, how can you see it?  In the story, Jesus gives us three signs.

First, Jesus tells us that this older brother is angry, and that’s key.   When you’re lost like this, that’s what you are.  You’re angry.   And the anger goes in generally two directions.  You’re angry at yourself or you’re angry at God.    Older brothers believe that if they follow what God wants and do what God says, then their life will go as it should.  But life never goes as it should does it?  Bad stuff happens, bad stuff that has nothing to do with what you’ve done right or wrong.  It just happens.   And when it does, older brothers get angry.   They either get angry at themselves, thinking, “Wow I dropped the ball with God somewhere.  Otherwise this wouldn’t be happening.”   Or they’re angry at God.  “God, how can this be happening?  I’ve done everything right!”   Now, older brothers may not always understand it that clearly.  They may even hide the anger, knowing it’s not good to be angry.  But that undercurrent of anger sits there nonetheless.

Second, do you notice what the son says to his dad in the story?  “I have worked like a slave for you.”   That’s says everything.   For this kid, it’s not about the beauty.  It’s about the duty.   What do I mean?    When I was in college, I took an art appreciation course.   I spent all this time looking at these pieces of art.  Why?  So I could make an A.  Why did I want to make an A?  To boost my GPA, so I could get a good job that would pay me decent money.  I looked at art to get money.  But now I spend money to look at art.  I go to an art museum and spend hours there.   I don’t do it to impress others or get ahead in my career. I simply love looking at the stuff.   It’s not about the duty.  It’s about the beauty.     But when you’re lost like an older brother, your relationship with God is all duty and no beauty.  So yes, you work hard, even sacrificially.      But there’s little joy in it.   It’s your duty.   When you’re lost like the older brother, you spend a lot more time in prayer asking God for things, then you do praising God or just talking to him as you would a friend.   You find God useful, but you don’t find God beautiful.   And that’s a profound difference.

Finally, do you notice how the older brother talks about his sibling?  He doesn’t even acknowledge they’re related.  He says; “this son of yours.”    And he talks about how the brother squandered the money with prostitutes.   And who knows maybe he did.  But the older brother doesn’t know that.   When you’re an older brother, you look down on those you think don’t cut the mustard, who haven’t worked as hard or faithfully as you have.    Now you may cover it up because you know such a sense of superiority isn’t right.   But in your heart of hearts you feel it.   You see folks who have blown up their lives or find themselves on the streets or who are doing things you find offensive or wrong, and it disgusts you.   At its worst, you carry this attitude into how you related to folks of different religions or political perspectives or lifestyles.  In a way, you have to have someone to look down on, who you know isn’t as good as you.   Why?   You’re insecure.  How can you not be?   After all, you’re trying to be good enough, to live the life God wants you to live.  But how do you know, really know?   So, you look over at someone else, and you go.  “Well at least I’m not that guy.” 

Now some of you may be thinking.   “Yep, I know someone like that.  That person is definitely an elder brother.”   But here’s the truth.   You don’t know.   Faith is like marriage.  The only two folks who know what’s really going on are the two folks in the relationship.   

And even if you’re not older brothers, and every church has some in its pews, you may have elder brotherish tendencies.   Your issues with God tend to be older brother one.   But wherever we find ourselves, how do we find our way out?   How do we free ourselves from these elder brother ways? 

We realize.   None of us were on the inside.   All of us were outside, good and bad alike.  So how did God bring us inside?  How did God draw us into the feast of salvation?   In Jesus, God became the outsider so that we might be brought in.   God, who was rich, for our sakes became poor, so that we might be rich in love, in grace, in acceptance, in the only stuff that ultimately matters.   God, who is love, endured hate, persecution, even death at the hands of his enemies so that his enemies might become his beloved friends.     And all of us, the good and the bad, were outside, were poor; were his enemies.   We were so lost that God had to die to bring us home.   But we are so loved that God was glad to die so he could.   And now, Jesus invites us to come, to join him at his feast of salvation, where the lost are found, those dead return to life.  And what we’ve done or not done, doesn’t matter.   The only thing that matters, that matters ever, is what Jesus has done for us.