A Safe Gospel

We're in the middle of a backlash.

Young teenagers. Twenty-somethings. Career thirties. We are experiencing a pendulum swing of terrifying proportions and ramifications.

50 years ago, American Christianity looked different. We were a culture of church. We attended church. We pray at church. Our parties were at church. We tell others to go to church. We invite people to church. And every Sunday, we pulled on our pantyhose or dress pants, and polished our patent leathers. And we went to church. We sat in the pews and we heard the story of the gospel. Then we got up and shouted to the world, "Believe the gospel! Believe the gospel! Believe the gospel!"

We didn't go to the world. That would have been messy. God forbid our patent leathers get scuffed and we encounter someone who (gasp!) had committed adultery, was homeless, had an addiction, struggled with homosexuality. We didn't do that. Church was clean. Tidy. Presentable people only. So, while we acknowledged that the world was full of sin, and we recognized that the Gospel was the answer, we didn't take it anywhere. We stayed at church.*

We stayed clean.

In our bubbles.

Shouting at the world.

And my generation has seen this.

Looking at what can easily be perceived as "angry" Christianity--a Gospel filled with words (without actions), we are horrified at this callous approach to the world. We want to provide feet to the Gospel. We want to impact our world with the love of Christ.

And so, we've seen a rise in "social justice." Young people give up careers to dig wells in Africa. There are missions trips of orphanages. Sponsoring nights at homeless shelters. Raising awareness of diseases. Working with addictions and those struggling to survive.

But no words.

We reach out. We embrace a world. We give love. And then we sit back and hope that the love, on its own two feet, propels them to the Gospel. We dig wells, but we don't talk of living water. We counsel addicts, but don't discuss the One who satisfies all cravings. We minister to orphans, but neglect to mention the Great Abba-Father.

We, as a church, battle between the two ditches of Ephesians 4:15, "Speaking the truth in love." We speak truth. We love. But how often do they go hand in hand?

Our Gospel continues in narrow safety. If we shout truth from our pews--we will never get dirty. We will never get hurt. If we provide new wells--we are lauded for our philanthropy, without fear of judgment for our beliefs.

My generation is full of benevolent benefactors. Well-diggers. We will provide vaccinations, but we won't speak out about homosexuality. We cuddle orphans in Africa, but we don't fight for the unborn in America. We will crusade, but only for socially-approved messages. 

We speak of love, but practice its opposite when we neglect to share the great love that Christ has lavished. We are lashing out against the sterile Christianity of the previous years. Good. But is our philanthropy any less sterile? There is nothing dangerous about advocating for a truth that the world also holds to be true.

Dangerous Christianity is passionately pursuing the truth and the love. The world will not understand your truth, and your love may not look conventional.

We should get dirty. Dirty in the fields digging that well, and dirty in the battle for souls.

This is not a sterile belief. We do not hold a safe Gospel.

We have been given a dangerous, dirty, surprising commission.

What are you doing with it?

*I am aware that there are, and have been, and, God willing, will continue to be, men and women who have stood against the cultural mold of Christianity and have lived dangerously, adventurously, and bravely for the sake of the Gospel. When one writes of a cultural swing, one is always in danger of ignoring the powerful, Gospel-centered lives of those who live boldly regardless of their generation. This post is not for them. It is for the rest of us.