Religion for the Weak
“Who did Jesus come for?” This is not the typical way we frame the purpose of Jesus’ coming. Usually we think about the cross, forgiveness, and perhaps even the kingdom of God. But inserting the interrogative “who” moves our thoughts elsewhere.
Former Governor of Minnesota, Jesse Ventura (D), infamously said, “Organized religion is a sham and a crutch for weak-minded people who need strength in numbers.” We could dismiss this as the ramblings of a cynical, former wrestler. But the accusation that religion is more psychological than realistic predates Ventura.
The German philosopher Ludwig Feuerbach argued that “God” was more of a projection of human thoughts and desires—call it a form of wish-fulfillment. When we consider this in light of the previous question, Jesus evidently came to help and rescue the “weak”. The Christian faith rests on the assumption that the apparent, felt needs of people are the reason for Jesus’ kindness toward us.
In a similar vein, Tim Lane and Paul Tripp argue that sometimes Christians experience a “gospel gap.” Such Christians know about the forgiveness of past sins and the future promise of hope. Yet they lack fullness now. They consequently accept alternatives to the benefits the Gospel offers in the present. One alternative is “psychology-ism.” This effectively reduces the Gospel to a remedy for a catalog of unmet needs. Christ becomes a therapist, and not so much a Savior [1].
The sentiments of Christianity’s despisers and the tendencies of religion toward psychology-ism reveal a scenario where people simply turn to the church or religious practices such as a prayer for therapeutic reasons [2]. Emotional peace comes from reliance on some experience or intuition of a God “out there”—or in some cases, inside me.
The Dilemma
The problem we encounter is two-fold: First, it is absolutely true that the Christian faith has many benefits—several of which impart peace of mind. As the hymn “In Christ Alone” says, “No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me” [3]. But second (and principally), the god of psychological convenience only shows up in times of material and emotional need. However, these “conversions” only last as long as the crisis: hours, days, weeks, and months—not years or a lifetime.
While the good news that Christ brings cannot be reduced to psychology or personal peace, He does indeed come to the broken, the needy, and the weak. The following instances concerning blindness, poverty, and weakness show us the inner dimensions of the help He offers.
Blind Men See
Jesus had a knack for making enemies. His promise that the truth would set us free should have been more palatable (cf. Jn. 8:31). Yet it only implicitly revealed that the Pharisees were enslaved by sin. This rift surfaced again after Jesus miraculously heals a man blind from birth. Instead of an occasion for rejoicing among the masses, it only incites more hostility toward this wonder-worker who “sinned” by healing on the Sabbath.
Though a blind man is cast out of the synagogue for his mealy-mouthed retorts to the Pharisees’ questions, Jesus takes the opportunity to reveal the spiritual dynamics of His act: “For judgment I came…that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind” (Jn. 9:39). The implication of Jesus’ words is clear: the Pharisees are spiritually blind. Their claims to moral vision leave them guilty (cf. v. 41). Jesus’ miracles then were not only a foretaste of His future kingdom when sin’s consequences would be reversed. They also revealed spiritual deficits that only He could fill.
Our world is filled, of course, with those needing physical restoration. While God in His common grace gifts physicians to devote their lives to such a cause, Christ is also the Great Physician who cures the deepest woes of the human soul.
If this weren’t remarkable enough, Psalm 50:10 tells us that He also is the owner of the cattle on a thousand hills. Therefore, He can provide.
The Poor Become Rich
Financial need is another circumstance that inclines people to the divine. While Christian compassion often involves tangible benevolence, these circumstances offer an opportunity to reveal a deeper poverty beyond the wallet or purse.
In 2 Corinthians 8, Paul’s exhortation to sincere generosity is not grounded in pastoral threats or guilt trips. It is rooted in the condescension of Christ to our lowly estate: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (8:9). Paul here uses spiritual realities to address a fiscal issue. It isn’t enough then to look to heaven for showers of financial blessings apart from the spiritual blessings that touch the deepest need—blessings that evidently the poor are better-positioned to experience than the wealthy (e.g., Lk. 4:18; 14:12-14; 1 Tim. 6:17).
While the church’s compassion often translates into financial aid, the Head of the church is the giver of spiritual riches that transcend any earthly need. Likewise, the spiritual strength He provides is designed to teach an enduring dependence, and not a short-term pick-me-up.
The Weak Are Made Strong
There has always been a strand of rugged individualism in American culture. Pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps is what we do best. Except what does one do when they have no bootstraps? Better yet, what happens when our moment of weakness brings such shame that we cannot even reach below our waist? Such is the plight of those under spiritual discipline.
Sometimes God’s children turn away from Him. Yet if they are really His children, they experience His discipline sometimes. Though it validates our sonship, it is often painful (Heb. 12:5). This is why Hebrews exhorts readers to lift their drooping hands and strengthen their weak knees, and make straight paths for their feet, that they might experience healing (12:12-13).
Even sometimes our sufferings are permitted in order to teach us divine dependence. Paul’s thorn in the flesh was an occasion for God’s strength to overflow in him in a way that he otherwise wouldn’t have known (e.g. 2 Cor. 12:8-10). We don’t like this version of dependence because we must resign ourselves to the passenger seat of our spiritual journey where the Lord insists upon the destination. Of course, apart from His initiative we’d never leave the carport!
Religion for Sissies?
A young, single mother once sat in my study sharing a dilemma facing her. Torn between the option of abortion and keeping the baby, she firmly expressed her resolve to keep the child. She knew that “God” would help her during her crisis. Throughout her broken circumstances, she had been leaning on Him.
The challenge for me as a pastor was to identify if this is a God of mere psychological convenience, or the Father of Jesus Christ. The former shows up only long enough to bid us greetings when no human helper is present, yet the latter comforts the weak with an eye toward redemption. That redemption, however, requires repentance. Apart from it, there is no true liberty and peace. This God, in other words, does not exist primarily as an emotional placeholder in times of need, only to duck into the shadows once our circumstances become more manageable. No—He wants all of us. In fact, only He can diagnose our true needs. Consider the late John Stott’s words:
We resent his intrusions into our privacy, his demand for our homage, his expectation of our obedience. Why can’t he mind his own business, we ask petulantly, and leave us alone? To which he instantly replies that we are his business and that he will never leave us alone. So we too perceive him a threatening rival who disturbs our peace, upsets our status quo, undermines our authority and diminishes our self-respect. We too want to get rid of him [4].
For the lady in my office, the fundamental issue was whether she was looking to the kind of God who could sustain her, not only in her time of crisis, but who could rescue her from her true spiritual plight.
Is Christianity a religion for the weak? Absolutely. However, we must make sure to understand the spiritual dimensions of blindness weakness, and poverty. As we do this we find that even in our weakness, He is strong—strong enough to revive the dead, sustain the weak, and one day rescue all of those in Christ.
_______________________________________
[1] Timothy S. Lane & Paul David Tripp, How People Change (Greensboro: New Growth Press, 2008), 9-10.
[2] Notre Dame sociologist Christian Smith argues in Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers (2009) that the default religion of American teens is “moralistic therapeutic deism.”
[3] Words and Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend. Copyright © 2001 Kingsway Thankyou Music.
[4] John R.W. Stott, The Cross of Christ (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1986), 58. In saying “we too,” Stott is referring to the attitude of those responsible for the death of Christ.
Recent Comments