Years ago psychology of religion professor Wayne Oates wrote a book entitled When Religion Gets Sick. Oates pointed out that religion can be good or bad, healthy or sick, liberating or oppressive, intelligent or insane. This past week we have seen several examples of bad, sick, oppressive, and insane religion. Some pastors of megachurches have encouraged their members to defy stay-at-home directives and to attend church services where thousands of congregants can worship in close proximity. At least one pastor has been arrested for such a reckless and imbecilic “call to faith.” The pastors and churches who choose to congregate for worship during this pandemic claim that their faith will save them from the virus. One pastor even told worshipers to shake hands with one another to demonstrate the protective power of their God.
We cannot prove our faith, but we must not embrace a faith that is irrational.
When I heard about this disgraceful (as in lacking grace) behavior, I immediately thought of Oates’ book explaining how religion can become sick. I also thought of my advice to people who over the years have asked me what kind of church they should join. For over forty-four years I have said the following: “If the church you attend or consider joining does not encourage and enhance freedom, creativity, unconditional love for everyone, joy, justice, responsibility (not in the sense of duty but out of an awareness that we are all connected), and community that is open to everyone—then you should run, not walk, from that fellowship.” However, I now realize that over those decades I omitted one important characteristic—reason and intelligence. We cannot prove our faith, but we must not embrace a faith that is irrational. Of course, if a church has all the characteristics I mentioned above, the chances are it will not be irrational in its faith. But perhaps in today’s world, we should specify the necessity of reason for a vibrant and healthy faith.
As Christians we should also look to Jesus for guidance. The lectionary readings for the first Sunday of Lent always include one of the three temptation stories of Jesus. In Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 4:1-11), the second temptation Jesus faced before he began his ministry speaks to the insane tendency some Christians have to try to prove their faith through needless and reckless behavior. Jesus is taken to the pinnacle of the Jerusalem Temple. The devil says to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” (The devil is quoting Psalm 91:11-12.) Jesus responds, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” (Jesus is quoting Deuteronomy 6:16.)
Only love, truth, forgiveness, and reconciliation can heal this world.
Jesus rejected flashy miracles to prove his identity and to accomplish his mission. He did not need to prove his trust in the One he called Abba. He knew that means and ends are all the same in the Kingdom of God. Only love, truth, forgiveness, and reconciliation can heal this world. At the root of every attempt to test God is a hidden (and often subconscious) fear that God may not trustworthy. If we follow the devil’s seduction, we will feel the need to prove God for ourselves and others. Trust in God has nothing to do with risking our lives unnecessarily, much less in ways that can endanger the lives of others. Can you imagine how many lives are currently threatened by the thousands of hoodwinked worshipers who, this very hour, are infecting unsuspecting others because of their reckless gathering “to prove the power of their God?” How much sicker can religion be than to willingly take such risks, all to prove one’s faith in God? It defies understanding.
Nicolas Berdyaev, a Russian theologian I greatly admire, wrote the following many years ago:
The greatest religious and moral truth to which many must grow is that we cannot be saved individually. My salvation presupposes the salvation of others also–the salvation of my neighbor–it presupposes universal salvation, the salvation of the whole world, the transfiguration of the world. (The Divine and the Human)
Berdyaev’s understanding of true religion is the antidote for all sick religion. We are all in this epic drama of life together. We shall all swim or sink together. My hope is that we will all swim in that Infinite Ocean of love, life, and light. But risking our lives and the lives of others to prove a sick religion can bring us and countless others to the bottom of a different ocean—a very dark and deadly ocean which has no good news to offer.
