Join us for Easter this Sunday, 10am at Deltona High! Click here for more info!

Culture Check: The Heart of War

CultureCheckfortheBlogHeartofWar

In Dynamics of Spiritual Life, church historian Richard Lovelace writes: 

“Christians who are no longer sure that God loves and accepts them in Jesus, apart from their present spiritual achievements, are subconsciously radically insecure people—much less secure than non-Christians, because of the constant bulletins they receive from their Christian environment about the holiness of God and the righteousness they are supposed to have. Their insecurity shows itself in pride, a fierce defensive assertion of their own righteousness and defensive criticism of others. They come naturally to hate other cultural styles and other races in order to bolster their own security and discharge their suppressed anger.”

That book was published over 40 years ago but sounded a prophetic note of warning that resonates today. Why are some Christians so divisive, condescending, proud, and insecure? It could be because they’ve forgotten the gospel—their justification by faith.  

Justification means “to be accepted.” Because of the finished work of Christ, we are accepted by God. We’re welcomed into His presence. We belong—finally and completely. Nothing will every threaten or change our status as adopted children of God. The search for significance is over. Jesus ended it. But what does that have to do with the culture of our church? Everything! It’s the heart of the war.  

Toxic cultures don’t appear out of nowhere. They feed on healthy hosts, weaken doctrine, then gain control when the Gospel has left the building. The cultural air grows thick and oppressive. Strife, secrets, pressure, and over-reaching leadership become the new cultural vibes. You feel watched, unwelcome, more like in a DMV than a church. Everyone knows something’s amiss, even if they can’t name it. If we don’t fight against this, it will happen in our churches. 

That was the case in Galatians 2. Peter came to visit Antioch. Feeling pressure from legalists, he caved in and began acting out-of-step with the Gospel. He introduced an ugly, fast-spreading infection to an otherwise healthy culture of grace. First, it infected the Jews, then Barnabas. Paul saw it and did some apostolic intervention. 

He called Peter out in public. His method was strange, but instructive. Paul talked about justification by faith alone. He preached the gospel to the apostle who first introduced the good news to the Gentiles. Strange? It shouldn’t be. Martin Luther said: 

"Justification by faith alone is the truth of the gospel. It is also the principal article of all Christian doctrine, wherein the knowledge of all godliness consists. Most necessary it is, therefore, that we should know this article well, teach it unto others, and beat it into our heads continually.” What did Luther mean? 

He meant that even Christians forget the Gospel and need constant reminders about their acceptance in Christ. Behind all expressions of partiality, racism, cultural elitism, and condescension is an unconscious effort to mask our insecurities. We’re on a quest to be accepted, right, clean, and worthy. We want to feel loved and beautiful. We want to belong. So powerful is that longing, it makes us do crazy things, like looking down on other people. 

Lovelace went on in his book to write that only a fraction of professing Christians are “solidly appropriating the justifying work of Christ in their lives.” Why are Christians so fragile and easily provoked? Why so touchy and defensive? Don’t we know that all forms of pride, gossip, and racism are sin? Do we need a refresher on lying, cheating and stealing? Maybe not. Maybe we just need to realize our justification by faith. Until we do, not only will we fail to understand those struggles, we’ll never overcome them. 

Peter had no right to look down on the Gentiles at Antioch, but he didn’t have the need to either. By his actions, he was seeking what Christ had already given him: acceptance.

Paul reminded Peter that he was justified by faith ALONE. Apart from our busyness. Our appointments. Our work. Our sweat. Our blood. Our tears. Our labors. Our beauty. Our health. Things that impress others or make us feel legit. What we wear, own, drive, where we live, where we went to school, how many degrees we have, or children, or friends, or followers, or likes, or shares. Apart from our successes and failures. Apart from all that, we’re justified by Jesus.  

When I was a teacher at a Christian academy, I caught students cheating on big exams. Good students with good theology. Clearly cheating. No question about it. I pulled them aside and proceeded to spray water on the smoke of their symptoms: laziness, procrastination, deception, and so on. I got blank stares. 

I thought, “I’m going to put these kids back in their place!” It was an epic fail on my part because the “place” I put them was on a quest to justify themselves by their performance. Turns out, that was why they cheated to begin with. Jesus had already put them in their place—beside Him in the heavenly places. They needed a reminder. I do too.

In the movie “Chariots of Fire” Harold Abrahams, before his Olympic race said, “I’m forever in pursuit—and I’m not even sure what I’m chasing. I’m scared. And now, in one hour’s time, I’ll be out there again. I’ll raise my eyes and look down that corridor—four feet wide with ten lonely seconds to justify my whole existence. But will I?”

No Harold. You won’t. Watch the movie. He never found contentment, even with his victory. And we won’t either. However, a greater victory has been given to us—one we had nothing to do with. We share in the triumph of Christ through faith. And when that truth settles in our heart, we’ll be the most courageous, faithful, risk-taking, obedient Christians on the planet. And our culture will turn heads. It won’t be easy; it’s war. But it’s a worthy fight.