How the Gospel Does What Religion Cannot
I walked out into our backyard one Saturday and encountered my son pouring water from a watering can into her sandbox. When I asked what he was doing, he replied, without looking up, “Daddy, I need the sand to grow. See? There’s not much left.” I tried to explain to him sand does not grow by watering it, because, of course, it is not alive. The only way to increase the amount of sand in the sandbox is for Daddy to pour more sand in. That’s how religion changes you. Religion pours it on. It gives you a lot of stuff “to do”: Bible studies to go to; new habits to add to your life; things to say and not say, etc. That’s what some have called “mechanical” change. That’s fundamentally different from how a tree grows. A tree grows and bears fruit because it is alive. Fruits spring up naturally because of the life inside. This is how the gospel changes you. Your behavior changes because you change. This is an “organic” change. Most strategies you hear for growth in Christ end up being, for all their Christian language, “mechanical” changes. We get busy for God. We add new spiritual disciplines. We give money. We do missions.
The problem with mechanical changes is that they quickly become wearisome to you. That’s not to say you shouldn’t ever do things when you don’t want to do, just that if the extent of your Christianity is achieving the right behavioral standard, you are setting yourself up for disaster. You are laying religion onto a heart that loves other things. And, whether you ever articulate it or not, you will resent God holding you captive to do stuff you wouldn’t otherwise be doing if He weren’t threatening damnation. You will resent God holding you captive to do stuff you wouldn’t otherwise be doing if He weren’t threatening damnation. The reason “mechanical” changes don’t really work for us goes back to the core of what’s wrong with us— all the way back to our original sin in the garden of Eden. I want to take us there in this chapter, because only then we can understand why religion won’t work and why only the gospel can “fix” us.
Our original sin was idolatry. You may have a hard time seeing that. “Idolatry? I don’t see them bowing down or praying to an idol.” That’s because we sometimes fail to grasp what worship really is. You worship whatever it is you deem most essential for life and happiness. For Adam and Eve it was the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Its fruit was so important they were willing to disobey God to get it. For us, it may be money, the praise of others, a good marriage, a healthy family, achieving a certain status at work, or experiencing some sensual pleasure. When something becomes so important to you that it drives your behavior and commands your emotions, you are worshiping it. You are willing to say “no” to God to get it.
The Hebrew word for “glory” (kabod) literally means “weight.” To give something glory in your life (or, to worship it) is to give it so much weight that you couldn’t imagine doing life without it. An idol can be almost anything— even the good gifts of God. Family, friends, dreams, even church— these are all good things, of course. But they become idols when we assign them “God-type” weight. An idol can be almost anything— even the good gifts of God. Ultimately, idolatry is behind all of our sin. We place a greater weight on something other than God. Whatever those things are that we feel like we can’t live without and that control our behaviors are “functional gods” to us. We may not prostrate our bodies before them, but we prostrate our hearts. All people, religious or not, have some sort of god, because all are worshipers. All people, religious or not, have gods, because all are worshipers. Many people feel like they are not worshipers because they aren’t religiously active. You can no more turn off your drive for worship by not being religious than you could turn off your sex drive by remaining single. All human beings have something they believe to be essential for life; something that they could not imagine feeling happy or fulfilled without. Whatever, that thing is, you are worshiping it, biblically speaking.
The first sensation Adam and Eve had after the thrill of eating the forbidden fruit was a sense of their own nakedness. Were they naked before eating the fruit? Yes. But only after they had eaten the fruit did their nakedness bother them. What had changed? The early church fathers explained that prior to their sin Adam and Eve had been “clothed” in the love and acceptance of God, so their nakedness did not bother them. Now having stripped themselves of God’s love and acceptance, they were left with a sense of exposure, fear, guilt, and shame.
So what did Adam and Eve do about that sense of nakedness? The same thing any of us do when we feel naked— they looked for something to put on! If you have a problem sleepwalking and suddenly woke up one night standing in a Super Walmart, buck naked, you probably wouldn’t use that opportunity to pick up a few odds and ends you needed for the house. Instead, you’d immediately look for the clothing section and find something to cover yourself. And pray that no one you know has seen you.
Adam and Eve did essentially the same thing. They made themselves “coverings of fig leaves” and hid from God. Their clothes made them feel more acceptable. We have all been on the same quest ever since. We try to cover the shame of our nakedness by establishing our worthiness in some way. We find something that sets us apart from others: we’re smarter; we got into a certain kind of school; we have a good job and make lots of money; we’re a good parent; we’re more faithful in our religion than others. We’ll use just about anything to establish our worth. People who aren’t religious at all do this just as much as religious people. Atheists feel like they are fair-minded and good citizens. Hollywood stars pride themselves as social activists. Tony Soprano says, “I may kill lots of people . . . but I’m a good son.” Everybody looks for things to justify their worthiness. For most of us, life is like one big Survivor episode where we are trying to convince God and everyone else why we are not the ones who should be thrown off the island. The things we use to establish our worthiness, can be called “functional saviors.”
The problem with mechanical changes is that they quickly become wearisome to you. That’s not to say you shouldn’t ever do things when you don’t want to do, just that if the extent of your Christianity is achieving the right behavioral standard, you are setting yourself up for disaster. You are laying religion onto a heart that loves other things. And, whether you ever articulate it or not, you will resent God holding you captive to do stuff you wouldn’t otherwise be doing if He weren’t threatening damnation. You will resent God holding you captive to do stuff you wouldn’t otherwise be doing if He weren’t threatening damnation. The reason “mechanical” changes don’t really work for us goes back to the core of what’s wrong with us— all the way back to our original sin in the garden of Eden. I want to take us there in this chapter, because only then we can understand why religion won’t work and why only the gospel can “fix” us.
Our original sin was idolatry. You may have a hard time seeing that. “Idolatry? I don’t see them bowing down or praying to an idol.” That’s because we sometimes fail to grasp what worship really is. You worship whatever it is you deem most essential for life and happiness. For Adam and Eve it was the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Its fruit was so important they were willing to disobey God to get it. For us, it may be money, the praise of others, a good marriage, a healthy family, achieving a certain status at work, or experiencing some sensual pleasure. When something becomes so important to you that it drives your behavior and commands your emotions, you are worshiping it. You are willing to say “no” to God to get it.
The Hebrew word for “glory” (kabod) literally means “weight.” To give something glory in your life (or, to worship it) is to give it so much weight that you couldn’t imagine doing life without it. An idol can be almost anything— even the good gifts of God. Family, friends, dreams, even church— these are all good things, of course. But they become idols when we assign them “God-type” weight. An idol can be almost anything— even the good gifts of God. Ultimately, idolatry is behind all of our sin. We place a greater weight on something other than God. Whatever those things are that we feel like we can’t live without and that control our behaviors are “functional gods” to us. We may not prostrate our bodies before them, but we prostrate our hearts. All people, religious or not, have some sort of god, because all are worshipers. All people, religious or not, have gods, because all are worshipers. Many people feel like they are not worshipers because they aren’t religiously active. You can no more turn off your drive for worship by not being religious than you could turn off your sex drive by remaining single. All human beings have something they believe to be essential for life; something that they could not imagine feeling happy or fulfilled without. Whatever, that thing is, you are worshiping it, biblically speaking.
The first sensation Adam and Eve had after the thrill of eating the forbidden fruit was a sense of their own nakedness. Were they naked before eating the fruit? Yes. But only after they had eaten the fruit did their nakedness bother them. What had changed? The early church fathers explained that prior to their sin Adam and Eve had been “clothed” in the love and acceptance of God, so their nakedness did not bother them. Now having stripped themselves of God’s love and acceptance, they were left with a sense of exposure, fear, guilt, and shame.
So what did Adam and Eve do about that sense of nakedness? The same thing any of us do when we feel naked— they looked for something to put on! If you have a problem sleepwalking and suddenly woke up one night standing in a Super Walmart, buck naked, you probably wouldn’t use that opportunity to pick up a few odds and ends you needed for the house. Instead, you’d immediately look for the clothing section and find something to cover yourself. And pray that no one you know has seen you.
Adam and Eve did essentially the same thing. They made themselves “coverings of fig leaves” and hid from God. Their clothes made them feel more acceptable. We have all been on the same quest ever since. We try to cover the shame of our nakedness by establishing our worthiness in some way. We find something that sets us apart from others: we’re smarter; we got into a certain kind of school; we have a good job and make lots of money; we’re a good parent; we’re more faithful in our religion than others. We’ll use just about anything to establish our worth. People who aren’t religious at all do this just as much as religious people. Atheists feel like they are fair-minded and good citizens. Hollywood stars pride themselves as social activists. Tony Soprano says, “I may kill lots of people . . . but I’m a good son.” Everybody looks for things to justify their worthiness. For most of us, life is like one big Survivor episode where we are trying to convince God and everyone else why we are not the ones who should be thrown off the island. The things we use to establish our worthiness, can be called “functional saviors.”