A number of years ago, I had the
privilege of teaching at a school of ministry.
My students were hungry for God, and I was constantly searching for ways
to challenge them to fall more in love with Jesus and to become voices for
revival in the Church. I came across a
quote attributed most often to Rev. Sam Pascoe.
It is a short version of the history of Christianity, and it goes like
this: Christianity started in Palestine as a
fellowship; it moved to Greece and became a philosophy; it moved to Italy and
became an institution; it moved to Europe and became a culture; it came to
America and became an enterprise.
Some of the students were only
18 or 19 years old--barely out of diapers--and I wanted them to understand and
appreciate the import of the last line, so I clarified it by adding, “An
enterprise. That’s a business.” After a few moments Martha, the youngest
student in the class, raised her hand. I
could not imagine what her question might be.
I thought the little vignette was self-explanatory, and that I had
performed it brilliantly. Nevertheless,
I acknowledged Martha’s raised hand, “Yes, Martha.” She asked such a simple question, “A
business? But isn’t it supposed to be a
body?” I could not envision where this
line of questioning was going, and the only response I could think of was,
“Yes.” She continued, “But when a body
becomes a business, isn’t that a prostitute?”
The room went dead silent. For several seconds no one moved or
spoke. We were stunned, afraid to make a
sound because the presence of God had flooded into the room, and we knew we were
on holy ground. All I could think in
those sacred moments was, “Wow, I wish I’d thought of that.” I didn’t dare express that thought
aloud. God had taken over the
class.
Martha’s question changed my
life. For six months, I thought about
her question at least once every day.
“When a body becomes a business, isn’t that a prostitute?” There is only one answer to her
question. The answer is “Yes.” The American Church, tragically, is heavily
populated by people who do not love God.
How can we love Him? We don’t
even know Him; and I mean really know
Him.
What do I mean when I say “really know Him?” Our understanding of knowing and knowledge
stems from our western culture (which is based in ancient Greek philosophical
thought). We believe we have knowledge
(and, by extension, wisdom) when we have collected information. A collection of information is not the same
thing as knowledge, especially in the culture of the Bible (which is an eastern,
non-Greek, culture). In the eastern
culture, all knowledge is experiential. In western/Greek culture, we argue from
premise to conclusion without regard for experience--or so we think. An example might be helpful here. Let us suppose a question based upon the
following two premises: First, that
wheat does not grow in a cold climate and second, that England has a cold
climate. The question: Does wheat grow in England? The vast majority of people from the
western/Greek culture would answer, “No.
If wheat does not grow in a cold climate and if England has a cold
climate, then it follows that wheat does not grow in England.” In the eastern culture, the answer to the
same question, based on the same premises, most likely would be, “I don’t
know. I’ve never been to England.” We laugh at this thinking, but when I posed
the same question to my friends from England, their answer was, “Yes, of course
wheat grows in England. We’re from
there, and we know wheat grows there.”
They overcame their cultural way of thinking because of their life
experience.
Experience trumps information
when it comes to knowledge.
A similar problem exists with
our concept of belief. We say we believe
something (or someone) apart from personal experience. This definition of belief is not extended to
our stockbroker, however. Again, allow
me to explain. Suppose my stockbroker
phones me and says, “I have a hot tip on a stock that is going to triple in
price within the next week. I want your
permission to transfer $10,000 from your cash account and buy this stock.” That’s a lot of money for me, so I ask, “Do
you really believe this stock will triple in price, and so quickly?” He/she answers, “I sure do.” I say, “That sounds great! How exciting! So how much of your own money have you
invested in this stock?” He/she answers,
“None.” Does my stockbroker
believe? Truly believe? I don’t think so, and suddenly I don’t
believe, either. How can we be so
discerning in the things of this world, especially when they involve money, and
so indiscriminate when it comes to spiritual things? The fact is, we do not know or believe apart
from experience. The Bible was written
to people who would not understand the concepts of knowledge, belief, and faith
apart from experience.
I suspect God thinks this way
also.
So I stand by my statement that
most American Christians do not know God--much less love Him. The root of this condition originates in how
we came to God. Most of us came to Him
because of what we were told He would do for us. We were promised that He would bless us in
life and take us to heaven after death.
We married Him for His money, and we don’t care if He lives or dies as
long as we can get His stuff. We have
made the Kingdom of God into a business, merchandising His anointing. This should not be. We are commanded to love God, and are called
to be the Bride of Christ--that’s pretty intimate stuff. We are supposed to be His lovers. How can we love someone we don’t even
know? And even if we do know someone, is
that a guarantee that we truly love them?
Are we lovers or
prostitutes?
I was pondering Martha’s
question again one day, and considered the question, “What’s the difference
between a lover and a prostitute?” I
realized that both do many of the same things, but a lover does what she does
because she loves. A prostitute pretends
to love, but only as long as you pay.
Then I asked the question, “What would happen if God stopped paying
me?”
For the next several months, I
allowed God to search me to uncover my motives for loving and serving Him. Was I really a true lover of God? What would happen if He stopped blessing
me? What if He never did another thing
for me? Would I still love Him? Please understand, I believe in the promises
and blessings of God. The issue here is
not whether God blesses His children; the issue is the condition of my
heart. Why do I serve Him? Are His blessings in my life the gifts of a
loving Father, or are they a wage that I have earned or a bribe/payment to love
Him? Do I love God without any
conditions? It took several months to
work through these questions. Even now I
wonder if my desire to love God is always matched by my attitude and
behavior. I still catch myself being
disappointed with God and angry that He has not met some perceived need in my
life. I suspect this is something which
is never fully resolved, but I want more than anything else to be a true lover
of God.
So what is it going to be? Which are we, lover or prostitute? There are no prostitutes in heaven, or in the
Kingdom of God for that matter, but there are plenty of former prostitutes in
both places. Take it from a recovering
prostitute when I say there is no substitute for unconditional, intimate
relationship with God. And I mean there
is no palatable substitute available
to us (take another look at Matthew 7:21-23 sometime). We must choose.
Responses to this article are
welcomed. You may contact the author at
drdave1545@yahoo.com
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