Time to Abandon the Church
Atheist actor, Brian Cox, may be on to something. He recently criticized religion in an episode of his Starting Line podcast, and several of his comments were right on target: “The problem with religion is that it has led us into all kinds of horrors,” and religion “shields humans from examining how they are contributing to society's problems.” I would only add that people have long been adept at these skills without needing any help from religion. Cox also charges, “Religion has sold humans a false story.” Amen, but I would rearrange this to “humankind has created religions which have sold people false stories.”
But what really got my attention was how he described the god of religion: “It's all about this notion of God, the idea that there’s a God that takes care of us all. There is no such thing, doesn’t happen.” And of those who believe, “Human beings are so f-d, basically because they're so stupid.”
Here, Cox is far too kind. If this was the god I believed in, I would look around at the world, flip god off and call him the worst f-ing failure ever. The problem is, I don’t know of any religion that believes god’s job is to take care of us all, though many make this their aim.
The job of the God of the Bible is not to take care of us all. In fact, he doesn’t have a job, he simply is. He is holy and perfectly just. Every one of us has offended him by hurting his creation, each other, and ourselves, justly bringing condemnation. But God is also love. He has chosen—not to create a religion for us to work our way to him—but to come down to us in the person of Jesus, exchanging his perfection for our rebellion, and offering to restore us to a holy, loving, Creator, Father, God, and King.
True Christianity is not about a god who helps us, so much as it is about the one true God who offers to save us. It is not a religion to practice but a relationship in need of restoration.
The kicker is that even if we entrust and commit our lives to him, he still doesn’t help us. Instead, he promises that in this life we will have trouble, pain, and hardship. We will age, get sick, and die. We will be hurt by others and experience consequences of living in a deeply broken world with cancer and car accidents. In fact, in some ways the Christian life is harder: We are to love him more than anything or anyone else, including our families, our sexuality, and our money. We are called to turn the other cheek, to love our enemies, and to take up our cross daily and follow him.
Why would anyone take this offer? Because no one helped Jesus when he was abandoned by his Father. He died for humanity, taking the judgment we deserved and giving us his perfect record. He swallowed death itself, and he promises “not to help us escape problems—but to never leave us through our problems. He offers to hold onto us through the very shadow of death, bringing us into that life which is truly life.
All of which leads me to wonder, where did Brian Cox get this notion of god? I fear it comes primarily from the American church itself. It is the aging remnants of a vague religiosity; twisted, mangled, repackaged, and passed down through generations as effectively as the telephone game. There is so much misunderstanding and cultural baggage that true Christianity is virtually the exact opposite of American religiosity. In fact, there is so much cultural baggage to the terminology of Christianity I suggest it is time to abandon ship.
The word Christian appears only once in the English Bible. Much more helpful, I propose, is follower of Jesus. His disciples in the Bible left everything to follow him, and this demand has not changed for us.
The word church has likewise become meaningless with modern dictionaries defining it as a building used for public worship. Jesus did say, “I will build my Church,” but he was talking about his people, with no connotations whatsoever about a building. And what if Jesus would say to most people attending most churches today, “I never knew you”? Still, the term church is not as easy to jettison entirely. God’s people are called to gather together, and buildings can be really helpful. How about the church gathered (not original). But then I’m still an active part of his church at work and home. So when we are not meeting together we are the church scattered, still followers of Jesus in our daily lives.
What about the word god itself? Again, if my culture thinks god’s job is to help people, then I don’t want any part of him. More descriptive or accurate would be Benevolent Creator-King. This is a mouthful, but it communicates so much: He made me, so I am accountable to him; since he is a just ruler, I deserve to be judged. But if I simply cry out for help in submission to him, he will graciously save me from myself and my enemies, and take me in under his loving rule.
Ok, I don’t mean abandon true Christianity, but this change would allow Jesus-followers to set themselves and their God apart by cutting the line attaching us to America’s dying and sinking institutional religion. Think of the clarifiers and conversation starters: “What do you mean when you say you are a Christian?” “Would you be best described as religious or a follower of Jesus?” “After you go to church, are you still part of the church scattered? “Which god do you follow?...” Ok, maybe awkward silence but that would be a great thing if it clarifies for the culture what Jesus followers actually believe.
I am a Jesus-follower, I am a member of the church-gathered at Mitchell Road, and I have given my life to the Benevolent Creator-King. Perhaps then, our culture will be rid of this illusion of a god sooner. And instead of disappointment from a fictional god they can have presented real hope from the one, true, living God.
