In this issue of The Merry Mystic, I start by sharing a disturbing version of Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son. But don’t worry: I make up for it by singing a reassuring hymn, “The Inn of God’s Forgiveness.”
The hymn began as a dream. As I explain in the book:
In the dream, I was traveling a rough country trail on foot, carrying a heavy pack. Coming over a ridge at the end of day, I saw an inn below me, with a golden light shining out of its windows. I walked on toward it. But the closer I drew, the more timid I felt. Would I be welcome there, travel-stained as I was? Would there be many strangers? Could I afford it? I hesitated in the yard before the door. I thought of traveling on.
But the door opened, and the innkeeper stepped out to welcome me, and his strong son took the pack off my shoulders and carried it up to my room. “There’s your table, right over here,” they said, pointing to just the kind of quiet corner table that I like. And they were so beautiful, and the serving staff all so beautiful and bright, and I so dusty and tired. Why are all these beautiful people serving me, I wondered? How do they know what I want, before I ask for it? And why do they laughingly refuse any payment?
Sheet music for the hymn can be freely downloaded here, and may be freely copied (for non-commercial use). The book can be ordered here. (It isn’t free. What can I say? One must eat.)
I left ‘the church’ many years ago after finding myself disenchanted with the sense of ‘penal substitutionary atonement’ you describe. I believe Love and God are synonymous, eternal, always present and always free. I have a hard time believing God’s love is righteously doled out dependent upon my ‘goodness’.
Whenever I visit here I leave wishing I lived closer so I could come back into the fold of a church feeling welcomed and embraced by such loving understanding.
Thank you.
Thanks, Louise. I don’t have any scientific evidence for this, but based on the many stories I’ve heard, I’d guess that your experience is one of the top ten reasons why people leave church.
I’m sorry you live too far away to visit my church. But anyway, I’m glad you’re here, part of this online community. I wish we could all meet face to face. Perhaps I could organize a retreat… hmmm….
Hi Adam – Thank you again for your ministry – I’d say “vital ministry” except that sounds like some kind of cliche church ad, but I do think your ministry is vital in all of that word’s meanings.
While you were singing on my screen, I happened to be copying over a sticky note I’d left for myself a couple months ago the last time someone said to me (probably on the radio): “Christ died so that we might be saved.” I wrote, mostly based on the Gospel of John: “Christ lived so that we might be friends.”
The violent god who demands sacrifice permeates our culture, even in ordinary decision-making. Over the last few days I have had to make a decision involving work and family… and, since this is America, insurance. The logical choice was to take on “just a few more hours” in order to get insurance coverage. Of course the “just a few more hours” comes with strings attached leading into a quagmire of obligations, morally suspect projects, and slogging through a massive drain of energy that would stop much of my own ministry. The “still small voice” was pretty clear, and you’d think my Biblical upbringing would remind me about the difference between serving God and serving Mammon. But, no, the voice of childhood religion says – hey, you’re doing this for the sake of others! What’s the matter with a little noble self-sacrifice? Hmm. Sometimes a lot, actually. I don’t think most of Jesus time “doing his Father’s will” was spent looking for a cross on which to hang.
Peace,
– Rob
Right on, brother. What you said.
Ironically, self-sacrifice is a particularly tempting trap for pastors, who tend to work themselves into early burnout. When you’re following Jesus, it’s easy to conclude that you’re supposed to give your all for a year or two and then die. But I think that for most of us, God’s harmony involves a joyful balance of care-for-others and self-care. “Love your neighbor as yourself,” not “instead of yourself.” And, anyway, when it comes to taking care of your family, you can’t really separate care for them from care for yourself. If you get better insurance at the cost of being unavailable, or at the cost of being cranky all the time, they probably won’t thank you for that!
In the Old Testament Jews sacrificed animals for God’s forgiveness and even hurt themselves and each other. Christ said is no need to sacrifice animals and yourselves anymore. God is ultimate Goodness and because Christ died for our sins, we need not punish ourselves. We are saved through Christ. Ultimate Goodness–Christ–wins out and always will over Evil. Christ came to tell the Jews–forget all the hundreds of rules. Love one another and be good to one another. And find comfort in me. Know that when you are suffering I [Christ] is suffering with you. Because Christ knows what we feel—he was human. If Christ didn’t die for our sins or for us, then why did He die? What is the point of Christianity?
Ah — there it is! Thank you, Bridgette, for keeping it real. You state that case well, and what you state is a classic tenet of Christianity. I hope you know that, although I disagree with you, I don’t mean to show disrespect for your tradition.
You ask, if Christ didn’t die for our sins … what is the point of Christianity? Well, of course, I can only speak for myself. But in my life, Jesus makes a huge difference — not because of his death, but because of his life and ministry. I treasure and try to shape my life around his teaching and his example. And then there’s the resurrection. Jesus makes a difference in my life partly because he is not gone — because he is a continuing presence in my life.
The story of Jesus’ way of non-violence in the face of his torture and execution teaches me how loving and level-headed self-sacrifice can thwart great powers. And, yes, it gives me courage to face my own suffering, knowing that Jesus was there before me. Where I disagree with you, I think, is at the point of viewing Jesus as a planned sacrifice, a payment without which God could not forgive us.
When our faith ancestors sacrificed animals in an attempt to buy God’s forgiveness, I think they were mistaken. Slightly more recently, some of our other faith ancestors, like the author of 1 John, answered your timeless question (“why did He die?”) by saying that Jesus “is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” But I think they were wrong too. I think Jesus was trying to tell us, in the parable of the Prodigal Son and elsewhere, what God is like. And I don’t think he was trying to tell us that God is like a person who exacts proper payment before granting forgiveness.
Still: many people seem to find it impossible to believe in God’s forgiveness without some sort of payment to explain it. Perhaps thinking of Jesus as an atoning sacrifice helps people believe in the possibility of God’s forgiveness. Perhaps it helps them realize that they don’t have to punish themselves, as you say. If so, that’s certainly a good thing.
Thanks again for sharing your thoughts, Bridgette, and best blessings.
Hi Bridgette – I may be jumping in where I’m not wanted here but so much of what you say so resonates with me as the wonderful good news we have to share – that ultimate goodness wins out, that Christ is with us now as comforter and companion, and that the heart of “the law” is about loving God and loving one another. When people ask me: “If Christ didn’t die for our sins or for us, then why did He die? What is the point of Christianity?” I now say: Christ died because we killed him. That’s what we did then; that’s what we do now if we don’t wake up and hear his message. The good news is that even death didn’t stop him, that we too can choose a kind of life that renders death powerless, and that is the point of Christianity.