A Politically Incorrect Gospel: sin and judgment reconsidered
Sermon Preached by
The Rev. David McMaster
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Text: Romans 2:1-13
Twenty years ago, a member of my former church in Ottawa called me up. She said she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The school had just called to inform her that her four year old, Ryan, was intolerant of the faith of others and may be suspended from Junior Kindergarten. “What happened?” I asked. There had been a number of families move into the neighbourhood with Islamic roots and apparently, a discussion of a Sunday School lesson about heaven made it into the school day conversation in JK. It seems that young Ryan had announced that no one was going to heaven unless they believed in Jesus and young Rima subsequently went home and mentioned it to her parents. A phone call went in to the school the next day complaining. The Imam was involved and the principal was right on it. There was some danger that this was going to become an international incident! The principal asked the teacher and young Ryan to give an account. It was the teacher who had called Sheila, my parishioner, to inform her that they were seeking the guidance of the Superintendent of schools. “He's just a child,” said Sheila to me. “You must be joking,” I said, “Couldn't they have just used that for a teaching moment on how to phrase things appropriately in a multi-faith environment? Do kids that age actually know what those words mean?” “Exactly,” replied Sheila, “and a four year old shouldn't have to have mastered political-correctness.” In the end, Sheila wound up having to call the school, assure them that she and her church loved all people and were not encouraging children to be intolerant of other faiths in Sunday School. She added that she felt that this event was blown out of all proportion and was eventually heard on that score by the principal.
By now, we have all encountered political-correctness in some facet of our lives. The folks over at Merriam Dictionary define politically-correct, the adjective, as: “conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated.” An online search of “political correctness” revealed, among other things, a number of pictures which had been “Photo-shopped” to make them “more suitable.” One of my favourite originals was of Winston Churchill during the Second World War, cigar in his mouth, giving the “V” for victory sign with his fingers. That historic picture has been “Photo-shopped”… to remove the cigar. Another original has Arnold Schwarzenegger, looking very manly, riding a Harley in association with his role in the film, Terminator 2. The politically-correct, “Photo-shopped” version, places a helmet on the terminator's head. Wise, perhaps, but again not true to reality.
Politically correct and politically incorrect are phrases that are here to stay in our society and that leads me right into what will now be a three week series on a politically incorrect gospel. One of the things that we have to face as Christians is that there are aspects of the Christian gospel, traditionally understood, that are no longer politically correct in our society. We have, for instance, a traditional view of the human condition that involves the word “sin”. Few people today want to talk about that. It is not politically correct to call someone a sinner these days. It goes against our sensibilities. Society holds deeply to the beliefs that individuals should not judge others, that moral truth is relative, that it is determined by the individual conscience, and we generally support things like pluralism and multiple-faith stances. The concept of sin has thus been almost lost in a sea of personal choices unless it is something particularly grave that impinges upon the well-being of another. Then we get up in arms, yet still look for ways to avoid language such as “sin”. We can think of the killings that went on during the LA riots 20 years ago or Vincent Lee's beheading of Tim Maclean on a Greyhound bus a couple of years ago, we seek alternative answers in words like “being caught up in mob-mentality” or not criminally responsible due to mental health issues. In another era, the word “sin” may have surfaced but not today, it's bad form. It's old school. We just don't refer to anyone as a sinner and so it is difficult for our culture to hear the scriptures proclaim, “There is no one who is righteous, not even one … all have turned aside … their throats are as opened graves, they use their tongues to deceive … there is no fear of God before their eyes … all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom.3:10, 12, 13, 18, 23).”
It is, perhaps, even more challenging today to bring up the biblical concept of judgment. Our reading today in Romans 2 mentions God's wrath and judgment. Many are familiar with Jesus' parable of separating the sheep from the goats and how the sheep on Jesus' right hand will inherit the kingdom of God whereas the “goats” on the left hand are told, “You are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me… go away into eternal punishment (Mt.25:41b-43, 46a).”
Most today don't like those passages. The very idea of judgment has become offensive. One author asked a few young adults about judgment. Hartmut, a graduate student from Germany said, “I doubt the existence of a judgmental god who requires blood to pacify his wrath. Someone had to die before the Christian god would pardon us. But why can't he just forgive? And then there's all those places in the Old Testament where God commands that people be slaughtered.”
“All that is troubling, I agree,” responded Josie, who works for an art gallery in Soho. “But I have even more of a problem with the doctrine of hell. The only god that is believable to me is a god of love. The Bible's god is no more than a primitive deity who must be appeased with pain and suffering.”
Many people today are what we might call post-Christian and post-biblical. Among other things, they find this idea of judgment unpalatable and it has become so unpalatable that it is rarely a topic of conversation even in the church. I cannot remember the last time I heard “judgment” mentioned from a pulpit. I'm sure it is in some conservative circles but not in the mainline in which I have spent most of my life. Judgment and the idea of a wrathful God are no longer politically-correct even in the church. Many have replaced these ideas with a “kinder and gentler” God and gospel, but let's take a look at that.
Think with me for a moment of the more palatable, politically-correct faith that many have come to. A number of theologians are beginning to see problems with it. First, in its concept of God. The recent, politically-correct view of God, tends to depict him/her as a cuddly, loving sort, who always cares, always supports, always comforts and always forgives. The question is, where does that image from? Well, I and others, have gone looking for that idea of God. I searched in other religions and really couldn't find it. Apart from some of the so-called new-age conceptions, I couldn't find any major world religion that viewed God solely in terms of love. In most, God is far more complex in his/her otherness, mystery, and sometimes others depict God engaging in judgment and acts of wrath. Some say that the idea of a God of love comes from the Bible and I looked there too but found that the God of the Bible is infinitely more complex than usual conceptions of our word love. Yes, it does say that “God is love” but to view the biblical God in solely those terms is reductionist and, essentially, makes God out to be what God is not. The biblical God is indeed marked by love, but also by words such as: holy, righteous, just, judge, almighty, all-knowing. All this led Presbyterian minister and author, Timothy Keller, to write, “The belief in a God of pure love - who accepts everyone and judges no one - is a powerful act of faith. Not only is there no evidence for it in the natural order, but there is almost no historical, religious textual support for it outside of Christianity. The more one looks at it, the less justified it appears.” In other words, while it may sound reasonable, it may be more the result of wishful thinking than something that has a widespread theological foundation.
The second thing about the politically correct gospel is that it often seems to lack any sense of justice. If I may turn to Keller again, he once had a conversation with a woman who was championing the idea of a God who only loved. She told him that the very concept of a judging God was offensive. To which Keller replied, “Why are you not equally offended by the idea of a God who only forgives? When I first read that sentence, it jolted me. I wondered what he was getting at because God's forgiveness is so ingrained in accepted theology. But think about it for a moment. Are times when forgiveness may be wrong? Are there not times when forgiveness would offend our senses of morality and justice and what is right.
Imagine, for instance, a man taking his young family on a camping holiday. They reach the idyllic, family campground, put up their tents, get the canoes of the roof rack of the car and head down to the river. The boys are horsing around on the canoes and the father, Mack, goes into the water to settle things down. It takes a few moments, but when he gets back on shore, he notices his youngest daughter is not there. He assumes she's off at the tents so doesn't worry too much but when he checks and finds out that she isn't there either, he runs down to the lake. Quickly the boats come out of the water and he gets the boys to help look for young Missy. It only takes a few minutes before Mack's heart to begin to pound. Other campers are alerted, a broader search takes place. An hour goes by and the police are called in, the search intensifies. Hour after hour, they search, young Missy is nowhere to be seen. The hours turn to a day and then another day, and then the realization that something tragic may have happened and there is nothing more they can do. Missy is gone. Much later, the body of the young girl is found, the victim of a paedophile.
Mack struggles with the loss. His life is shattered, he falls victim to what he calls, “The Great Sadness.” It is some years since I read William P. Young's best-selling novel, The Shack, but what I have just said is roughly what the main character of the book goes through. Young goes on to depict how Mack, year's later, encounters God and works through issues like forgiving himself for not being more attentive to his daughter's safety. In order to escape the Great Sadness, he has to let go of some things. But it is God's suggestion to Mack, in the book, that he forgive everyone, even the paedophile, which has causes the greatest issue. Within the plot one can sense Mack's struggle with this, to forgive someone who had abused and taken the life of his beautiful, innocent daughter??? It was this that caused so much discussion in book clubs and among theologians throughout the western world. Forgive the paedophile who had killed young Missy. Is that right? Are there some things that just cry out for justice? It goes against the grain to forgive. It goes against our sense of morality. Sometimes judgment may actually be a good thing.
Now think in broader terms, just what are we to do with the Hitlers and Stalins of this world? Are we to follow this concept of the love of God so much that we let crimes against humanity go without consequence? Are we to expect opposing sides to just shake and makeup after the events in Bosnia-Herzegovina a few years ago? There are those who suggest that we need justice as much as forgiveness when comes to life and when it comes to God. Some, particularly Eastern Block thinkers have suggested that the idea of an always loving, always forgiving God, is the product of a mostly North American, suburban environment where very little goes wrong. This mentality dies quickly, they say, “in a sun-scorched land, soaked in the blood of the innocent. When you see your home burned down, and your relatives killed and raped such talk is laughable. Humanly we want justice, and it is only (and this is interesting) it is only when we are able to leave matters of justice with God that we can actually walk away from violence and retribution ourselves.” Depending on the circumstance, we need a God who works for justice and judges as well as a God who forgives.
So there are problems with the view of God and problems with the lack of justice in the more politically correct version of faith that many have come to. But there is a third issue that comes up as well. Some have felt that this version of faith has far too rosy a picture of human nature. There's a basic belief that human beings are good, or predominantly so at the root of this faith, while more traditional, biblical understandings posit that sin is very much a part of the human condition. As Paul said, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom.3:23).”
When I was younger, I had a tremendous experience of God in my early 20s and it has had a lasting impact on my life. In those early years, I remember feeling that God had really changed my being. I felt that God's love had entered my heart and enabled me to love all people. Life has a way of bringing us back to reality, however.
Robert Bradford was a family friend from the old country. Robert was a gentleman, a Methodist minister, and then a member of the British parliament at Westminister. He himself had been a good footballer and paid a lot of attention to me as young lad and my great interest in the sport. He took me to a couple of soccer matches, brought me to Celtic Park one day, one of the finest playing surfaces in Belfast, to kick the ball around. I liked Robert. So you will understand what I felt one day when I was studying for the ministry in Lexington, KY. Frequently for my news, while in Lexington, I would tune into the World Service of the BBC. It was from the World Service that I learned that Robert had been gunned down by a paramilitary group during the course of a constituency meeting in Belfast. It was unbelievable to me and equally unbelievable what I was feeling inside. Here I was, studying for the ministry, having had a significant God experience, feeling that my life was marked by God's love, but the thing I felt was hatred. I wanted revenge. I wanted the perpetrators to pay. I was surprised at myself. It took me weeks to work through those feelings and find a higher place and so I know how people, and especially those who do not have the love of God in their hearts, can get caught up in a world of violence. I know how those people in LA twenty years ago succumbed to mob violence following the acquittal of the policemen who beat Rodney King senseless. I know how people get drawn into the type of conflict we saw in Sarajevo before that. It is in all of us. It is in all of us. God calls us to live on a higher plane but put any one of us into certain situations and we are amazingly capable of a thing called sin and violence, justifiable or not. It's in all of us.
And so, I find myself unable to embrace the more politically correct version of the Christian faith that has surfaced over the past generation. It sounds good, but because of inadequate pictures of God, of human beings and a lack of justice, I just can't go there. What I am left with is something more akin to the biblical picture of God and humanity and justice and interestingly, all those things are incredibly necessary for the rest of the biblical story to play out. We need them in order to really have Jesus. We need them in order that the cross is meaningful. We need them for the gospel to be “good news.” Maybe, in this age, those things are politically incorrect, maybe we have a politically incorrect gospel. The question is, however, is it true. Is it true in its conception of God, of justice, and of human nature? I will leave you to ponder.