Monday, August 6, 2012

Why "love” alone doesn’t “win.”



I hear a lot of people throw around the phrase “love wins,” and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure what they mean by that. It’s possible that those who shout the mantra through the halls of Facebook or from bumper stickers are intentionally espousing Rob Bell’s theology, which is essentially the belief that Jesus isn’t the only way to God. (Jesus is just, like, the VIP way or something.) Maybe “love wins” is a humanistic catch phrase intended to undermine the righteousness of God and exalt the goodness of man. (Pause for awkward call to the carpet.) Or perhaps it’s just a trendy, culturally reflective idiom indented to make everyone feel all warm and fuzzy inside.



Whatever “love wins” is supposed to mean, I’m really unsure; but this I know for certain: Love without Truth is disingenuous and deceptive; Truth without Love is divisive and damning. And without Jesus, both are dangerous.





Tough Love


Here’s the thing: I don’t believe love always wins, at least not in the distorted, postmodern “my truth is my truth-your truth is your truth” kind of way our culture likes to call love. In fact, the Bible offers a slew of examples where Jesus stepped on some toes, hurt a few feelings, and called several people out. And then there’s Old Testament God. The God who wiped out cities and people and made His chosen children follow so many rules. What do we do with that?



Culture may encourage people to believe that Jesus never judged, never set boundaries, and never called people out. But that’s simply not true.

Take, for instance, Mark 11 and John 2 when Jesus encountered moneychangers in the temple and a righteous anger overcame him. He was disgusted by the lack of reverence these people had for such holy ground. So what did Jesus do? He made a whip. Scripture doesn’t say he snatched a whip from a passerby; it doesn’t insinuate Jesus already owned a whip or that his disciples provided him with one. Rather, Jesus took time to make that whip. He set aside time to sit and reflect on whether or not he really wanted a table flipping, harsh word-spewing tirade to go down in history. And he chose yes. He chose righteous anger. I am willing to put big bucks on the odds that these moneychangers did not feel a “love wins” kind of love that day.

And lest you think Jesus’ outburst was provoked only this once, I think it prudent to mention some theologians believe the incident in Mark and the one in John were actually two separate occurrences. Which would mean two things: first, disobedient people (that’s all of us) are slow learners, and second, Jesus used anger as a means of rebuking unrighteous behavior. Why? Because Jesus is more concerned with our holiness than our happiness. Because Jesus wants us to understand that when we pursue holiness we are pursuing happiness. And because tough love is still love.

Swindlers in the temple courts were not the only people to receive Jesus’ tough love. Jesus told his disciples they had little faith when they feared for their lives during a storm—ouch. Can you imagine leaving friends, family, and vocations to follow a man around the Middle East and then that very man tells you to stop your whining and get some more faith? Jesus also called Peter out on a sin Peter had not yet committed. Jesus said something along the lines of, “You’re totally going to deny me. Three times actually. But I still love you.”  
Mary and Martha experienced Jesus’ tough love after Lazarus’ death. Jesus was slow to arrive in Bethany, and when He finally arrived, three days too late, he did not come bearing flowers, a condolence card, or even comforting words. In fact, he reprimanded Mary and Martha by saying, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” And later he reasserted, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”
Clearly, in this passage, Jesus is not modeling a “Love Wins” love. This is “tough love” Jesus. This is “I have a plan that’s better than yours” Jesus. We know this to be true because scripture explicitly says He loved Lazarus and that “Jesus wept” over his death. Maybe He wept because of Martha and Mary’s doubt; perhaps He was overcome by their grief. Whatever the reason, Jesus displayed his love in stern words and tears. Jesus didn’t always cry when He rebuked, but he always loved.
Then there’s the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, the one with five husbands. I cannot read the story without cringing just a little. For starters, scholars believe Jesus did not have to go through Samaria to get to Northern Israel. Like every other Jew, He could have taken the path along the eastern banks of the Jordan and avoided Samaria altogether. But He didn’t. He chose the path less traveled, so to speak, because He went looking for this woman. Jesus purposed his steps in order to find the lost sheep, point out her sins, and encourage her to live a more righteous life. And how does he encourage brokenness, repentance, and conversion? He totally calls her out. He asks her to bring her husband, and when she says she doesn’t have one, Jesus says, “You’ve had five husbands, and the man you’re living with now is not your husband.” (Cue wincing now.)
Jesus called to light the darkness lurking in the Samaritan woman’s past. He did it for the purpose of setting her free from bondage. And it works. Maybe not immediately, because she challenges His authority with some theological question, one beyond my understanding, about where it’s most appropriate to worship God. Yet, within the same conversation, she juxtaposed two truths--I am a sinner and this holy man is offering me cleansing water. She recognized her need for a savior. The Samaritan woman’s worldview is challenged by Truth. And what else can one do when faced with the reality of man’s depravity and God’s holiness? She accepted Jesus as Lord. With abundant jubilation and celebration, the woman ran into town to share the good news.


There are other examples of when Jesus loving passed judgment that come to mind; the story of Mary Magdalene is one of them. In this passage, we tend to emphasis the grace component, which I believe is the banner theme of the story.  However, when we focus exclusively on the “he without sin cast the first stone” part, we tend to lose sight of the passage’s lynch pin. We let Jesus’ forgiveness overshadow His call to righteousness: “go and sin no more.”



Our culture thinks it too judgmental to call sin “sin.” But it was Jesus who said we could judge a tree by its fruit. How, then, can we discern good fruit from bad fruit without judging? Calling Christians to a standard of biblical righteousness is not the same as judging a person’s salvation. That sort of judgment is scripturally forbidden. Speaking from experience, I sure wish there had been people around when I was in my early twenties who could have lovingly said, “Hey, knock that crap off. The Lord has a better plan for you.”

Grace-filled Truth

I like what Tim Keller recently wrote in reference to the importance of applying apologetics (the deep understanding of scripture) and faith. He writes, “There will be no joy in the grace of Jesus unless people see they're lost. Thus a gospel-shaped apologetic must not simply present Christianity, it must also challenge the non-believer's worldview and show where it, and they, have a real problem.”
Nonbelievers and believers alike, we’ve all become quite cavalier with Jesus’ righteousness, and we choose to focus instead on how loving He was. We’ve traded pursuing God’s holiness for accepting cheap grace, and then we label it “love.” We’re so quick to throw around phrases like, “don’t judge me” or “that’s just where I’m at.” And we convince ourselves that our choices are just fine because after all, God is love and Love Wins!... right?
So we don’t judge. We don’t even “tolerate” anymore. Instead, we support. We rally around others’ hurts. We affirm people that they are a whole and healthy person, that there is nothing wrong or lacking about their life. And Truth gets lost in the shuffle. But how loving is it to give people half truths? How transformative it that kind of love?
Maybe you’ve heard people define justice, mercy, and grace along these lines: Justice is getting what we deserve; mercy is not getting what we deserve; grace is getting more than we deserve. Grace is what sets people free from bondage. Not condemnation—never condemnation.

By the time I reached my early twenties, I had lived so much life, and the baggage I carried as a result was heavy and burdensome. I had been hurt by people I should have been able to trust and by places that should have offered refuge: father figures who were not faithful; father figures who walked out; a single mother coping the best she knew how; a church that failed to teach me how to bask in God’s grace. But some of my baggage was self-induced, and for that I take ownership: pride, rebellion, entitlement, mistrust for authority, I could keep going... I was and am and will always be a messy wreck. But I now know where to run for refuge and cleansing. Because I need more than Love. I need a Savior. I need Grace.

Grace is the kind of love that covers a multitude of sins. It calls us a biblical standard of righteousness while simultaneously extending love. Grace encompasses both truth and love, and it is grace that prompts hearts to holiness. Ultimately, Grace is what wins.

Winning

If I’m correct in my assumption that “Love Wins” implies that Jesus is and was and always will be an all-accepting softy who would never condemn anyone to Hell, well, then that’s nothing short of blasphemy.

People of all faiths and no faiths have to reconcile that Jesus says of himself in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one gets to the father except through the son.” Is there any other way to interpret this verse other than “hey, sorry, but I, Lord Jesus, am the only way to Heaven” ?

That Jesus is the world’s only eternal savior is reiterated in John 3:16, which states, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son. Whoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life.”

Also in John, Jesus says, "God is a Spirit and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth." 

Jesus’ disciples got it. In Acts Peter and John are asked by Sadducees by what power they are able to perform healing miracles. Peter and John are embolden by the Holy Spirit and proclaim that it is in the name of Jesus Christ, for there is no other name by which men can be saved. Salvation is found in no one else.

Non-Christians and nominal Christians often say that Jesus was a really good teacher, a role model for sure, and they choose to focus solely on those facets of Jesus. This perspective makes Jesus out to be a really nice guy who walked around loving everyone, judging no one, and handing out free health care (as I recently read in the caption on some polemical cartoon in support of Obama Care).

I like what C.S. Lewis has to say about acknowledging the divinity of Christ. To paraphrase, Lewis says that if we are going to lay claim to Jesus being a good person or a good teacher, then we have to accept that He is Lord. Jesus says he is Lord. Jesus says He is the only way to the Father God and Heaven. If Jesus isn’t Lord, if He isn’t the only way to Heaven, then He’s either a lunatic or a liar. And if He’s a lunatic or a liar, then He is without question a false teacher and not someone worth emulating. But he can’t be all three. So I’m going with Lord.

I haven’t read Rob Bell’s book, so I can’t speak Bell's intention, only our culture's. I’m sure in addition to all the Love and Winning there’s probably some good Truth in his book. Although, it’s certainly worth asking the question: if something is mostly true, does that still make it Truth? But honestly, this isn’t a critique of Rob Bell or his book or even the silly Love Wins bumper sticker.

No, the issue at hand is far bigger than that.  As the body of Christ, as the church, we need to challenge the perpetuated misconception that an all loving Jesus will always make us feel good about ourselves. The truth is: Truth doesn’t always affirm us; it doesn’t always make us feel loved. But our obedience to Truth always produces fruit.  

Love is what draws people to Christ. Truth is what sanctifies us. Grace is what saves us from ourselves.


God designed it. Jesus paved the way. The Holy Spirit makes it possible.