No, not theology held by Idiot A or Idiot B, although that’s not unrelated, but theology based on the premise that the world is full of people who believe cockamaney nonsense because they don’t accept the gospel and are therefore idiots. The atheists, the gays, the drunks, the pedophiles, the murderers. Those who say they believe the gospel but hold to all kinds of other nonsense – the Ann Holmes Reddings, the emergents, the Arminians, charismatics, gays, drunks, heck, maybe even the pedophiles.
I'm guessing that the thinking goes something like this: since these people are in direct defiance of God and thereby incur His wrath, they must therefore incur our wrath also. We’re supposed to love what God loves and hate what God hates; God hates sinners and therefore so should we, right? None of this “Love the sinner/hate the sin” stuff.
Someone I know and love used to have this kind of attitude toward certain people. Their crime? Being black. Many were criminals and caused all kinds of trouble, making the city ugly and unsafe, so they deserved disdain.
Well, that’s different, someone may say. It’s based on worldly standards, not Godly ones. Not necessarily. There’s a big difference between us and God (OK, a lot of big differences): He has the power to save or to condemn, and we don’t. No sense trying to do His job for Him, right?
The evangelism of the insult
My question is, are people drawn to God by insult? If you diss a person, are they likely to appreciate you? Respect you? Listen to a word you’re saying even if it’s truth they'd do well to hear? (Are we in a position to speak to the Pharisees the way Jesus did?)
Back in my own Dark Ages, I was a snarly, snarky idiot. Full to the brim of bitterness, self-absorption, and...pain. I cussed like a sailor. Yet I was seeking; I sought happiness, a way out of my ugly life. There were many who “preached” to me, good people, confident and knowledgeable in the things of God. Their lives were together. Compared to them I was inferior, and stupid (at least, they implied as much toward some of my protests against what they said about God). Sheesh, why didn’t I just get it? Why couldn’t I just snap my fingers and go, “Oh yeah”?
Then I met someone different. Her way was much, much different. A young woman of conviction who pulled no punches, she still treated me differently than anyone I’d ever known – embraced me as I was. As if I had value, as if she truly appreciated me. And though I’m certain I wasn’t worth it, I think she did. This was a revelation, sorry if that seems maudlin. She invited me to Christian meetings, inviting me to ask questions, to ask them even of the God I wasn’t sure was there. And continued to be my friend even when I wasn't much of a friend back.
She invited me. She didn’t “require” of me – heck, I’d been required of my whole life and, frankly, I was sick of it. Sick of it. “God requires what? Forget it, I can’t do it, and I don’t even want to.”
(I realize that my understanding of what God requires was incorrect...I thought that His yoke was hard and His burden heavy. I thought He required following of the Law -- other people's definition of the Law especially -- in addition to acceptance of Jesus' death and resurrection for my sin.)
I’m not so much an idiot as to assume that everyone responds to the same evangelistic approach as I did, but it’s reasonable to assume that I’m not the only one. And this brings to mind something Dan Edelen said:
I’ve had well-meaning Christians ask me when I was going to get a real job, as if my writing business doesn’t count. When I ask them what writing projects they might refer my way so I can continue to build my business and return to being the primary breadwinner, they go scurrying. It’s easier for them to tell me that I’m not very manly than to actually help me be the man they think I should be.
I wish I had a dollar for every time someone has told me I should be doing this or that but didn’t offer or lift a finger to help me actually do it. And I like the approach Mark Galli takes to the new Oprah-blessed book craze, The Secret. Rather than dismiss it out-of-hand as idiocy believed only by idiots, he says,
I am trying to recognize the deeper human longings that such a book addresses....While acknowledging the reality of human folly, we should also recognize that most of the time, we're not dealing with buffoons who should know better, but with sheep without a shepherd.
One can quibble that he says “most of the time” rather than “some of the time,” but I still commend his approach...most of the time, or some of the time. (I invite you to at least think about it, and am willing to help :-) )
