Matt W Cook

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.

The Pharisees were very good at what they did. Very careful. Very precise. So precise that they permanently traded their glasses for microscopes. They could see the fine, invisible details of a matter very well, but they couldn’t take a step back and see all the details together in a whole. So they made sure they gave the allotted percentage of the herbs they had in the kitchen. And they forgot about love.

We don’t tithe mint, dill and cumin. But I am pretty sure that we have equivalents. Here’s a list of things that have become the dill of the contemporary church:
– Fighting homosexuals in legislation
– Wearing headcoverings (or refusing to wear them)
– Eschatology
– Dress codes (or lack of dress codes)
– Putting tracts on restaurant tables and car windshields
– Precise greetings (God bless you / He is risen / etc)
– Supporting Republicans and Conservatives
– WDCX
– Boycotting media that famous Christians tell you to boycott
– Supporting political Israel

The Christian who does all these things is accounted a good Christian. But why? This isn’t the heart of Christianity. It isn’t anywhere near it. In fact, you could throw them all away and I doubt it would make a dent in your spiritual life. But they are the dill of the day. So if you throw them away your Christian friends will think less of you.

Do you know why Sodom was overthrown? The knee-jerk answer is, ‘They were gay!’ But Ezekiel says something different:

Behold, this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy. They were haughty and did an abomination before me. So I removed them, when I saw it.

Sodom was overthrown because they were rich, proud and didn’t help the poor. Were they steeped in homosexuality? Yes. But homosexuality was not the issue that incensed God. They were not kind. They did not help others. They had no love. So God removed them. Instead of picketing Pride Parades and protesting homosexual legislation, we should be emptying our pockets for the poor.

So we wrap ourselves up in dill and forget the weightier matters. We forget to radically love each other. We forget mercy and faithfulness. We microscopically pick out the bacteria in our cup while missing the fact that it isn’t tea, but chlorine.

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For the past six months or so my wife has had chronic back pain. Back when Joseph was born she had an epidural that the doctor kinda screwed up. So we figured the back pain was a result of that. Sucked, but there was nothing we could do about it.

And then we came to Canada and went to our doctor to get information on Ruth’s Rheumatoid. He ordered some x-rays and the results came back the next day. They actually pin-pointed the root cause of all Ruth’s back pain.

She’s full of crap.

Ahem. Rather, she seems to have been in a state of slight constipation for almost half a year. Her bowels were so backed up that it was causing the back pain. Now, since these systems seem so completely unrelated, we were hesitant to believe this. But the prune juice banished all doubts along with the crap. Her back pain is gone.

So I sat there and I thought to myself, what can we learn from this?

When you are full of crap, it’s going to cause problems. When you are not real or honest with yourself and with the people in your spheres, you’ll start to notice strange, seemingly unrelated problems popping up. And the only way to get rid of those problems is to cut the crap.

It’s hard to do. Especially in our religious circles, because without the crap we can’t put on a good enough show for people to respect us as much as we’d like them to. But it’s better without the crap. It’s better and, in the long run, easier to be who you are.

So take a swig of prune juice, be honest with yourself and cut the crap, whatever crap you may be holding. You’ll feel better almost right away.

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Yeah, yeah. If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands. Whatever.

This is the part where I whine about how whiny Christians are and tell you all to cheer up because Jesus loves you and life is grand.

I guess it is grand, though it doesn’t always feel like it. Have you ever felt that your life is something like a novel? Have you ever felt like you’re getting ripped off in life? That you’re not getting what you had hoped to get or doing what you had hoped to do? Something’s missing, circumstances suck, generally life is not being kind.

But it is, really. Isn’t it?

I once heard a very interesting explanation on why children go through a ‘terrible two’ stage. Because it’s around that age where you start saying ‘no’ to the kid. Up until that point every single thing that the kid wanted, the kid got. But as he grows up his horizons broaden and he wants things that we don’t want him to have. So we say no. And this is traumatic. Think about it: for his entire life every wish of his has been fulfilled. It doesn’t matter that we, with our years of wisdom, consider his wants petty and meaningless. They mean something to him, so they affect him.

Same with us. Life feels bad, but maybe we have perspective issues. Maybe we don’t realize how good we’ve got it. Maybe we’re just chemically imbalanced. But life isn’t really that bad.

And Jesus makes it better. He was always talking about Joy. People know know Jesus know the deep joy he gives. We probably shouldn’t be crabby people. If you’re crabby people will assume that you don’t have anything to be happy about, that you’re life is generally worse than you had hoped it would be. But if you know Jesus, shouldn’t your life be better than you can imagine?

Radical Joy, in the midst of disappointment, dissatisfaction and problems is a huge sign for people. It’s hard to be joyful, and it takes something bigger than willpower, but it’s good.

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Jesus is the ultimate sleep-killer, don’t you think? Which is strange, because religion really puts me to bed.

Jesus is exciting. He’s such a complex, deep personality. Look at how he tenderly deals with prostitutes and money-grabbing bureaucrats, and then turns around and rips religious leaders to shreds. He bounces children on his knee and then causes a one-man riot in the temple, complete with whips and harsh words.

Yeah, Jesus keeps me up at night. Here’s a few reasons why:
1) Jesus doesn’t let me compromise. He didn’t ever compromise and he didn’t care what people thought of him. Tell Jesus that he’s being too unconventional or radical and you’ll probably get called a harsh name like white-washed tomb or viper or (if he’s a close friend) satan.
2) Jesus doesn’t let me get away with anything. Remember when Peter denied him? Jesus looked straight at him. He came later and pounded him with those three ‘love me’ questions. I mean, ouch!
3) Jesus is really, really, REALLY kind. Punks are beating him down and he’s still talking about forgiveness. That’s odd. That’s very odd. Jesus is not normal. And I’m supposed to be like HIM?
4) Jesus promises Ultimate Power. Just like in a Fantasy book only better. Rand Al’Thor may be able to touch the One Power, but he still can’t control the madness within him. Jesus helps me control it. Jesus slowly pulls the taint off my soul.
5) Jesus confuses me. I don’t get him. I really don’t get him.
6) Jesus loves me.
7) I love Jesus. That’s even cooler, in some ways, than him loving me.

So thanks, Jesus, for keeping me up at night. You’re always a good reason to lose sleep.

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One of my earlier posts has generated a lot of feedback. Maybe you should check it out before you continue.

Prosperity Theology keeps me up at night. I’d like to tell you why. And I don’t think I’m going to be civil about it.

The Prosperity Evangelist would tell you that if you are living in poverty you are living in sin. Poverty is sin. Having fewer material possessions than most people you know is sin. Ministries that struggle financially are not receiving God’s grace. Jesus wants you to drive a big car, have gold fillings and the biggest iPod on the market. Jesus is your sugar daddy.

I have been sitting here, typing nothing, for a while now. I’m trying to think of a nice, civil way to continue this post. I can’t think of one. So I won’t be civil.

Prosperity Theology may be just about the most dangerous belief system on the planet. It’s near enough to the Bible that it sounds good but it is nothing more than a religious drug, stupefying our western church while dulling us to the cries of the poor all over the world and filling the bank accounts of scam artists posing as preachers. Prosperity Theology is anti-biblical and anti-Christ. It teaches you to ignore the fact that Paul warns about the dangers of riches and warns us to avoid the desire of money (1 Tim 6:7-10). It ignores Jesus’ advice when he tells us not to store treasures on earth (Matthew 6:19-21). It denies that Jesus is all-sufficient even during times of severe economic struggle (Habakkuk 3:17-18).

I’m not going to be nice about this because this theology is ruining lives. It ruins the lives of the people who hear it because they think their economic struggles are a judgment from God because of their sin. This means that pretty much every believer in the third world is significantly less righteous than the average believer in the west. It ruins the people who subscribe to it because you need to put a bullet through your intellect to swallow it (told you I wouldn’t be civil). No one can come away from an honest reading of the Bible and decide that Jesus purchased a BMW while on the cross. This theology was cooked up deliberately by people who want full churches (=full offering plates) of people who can have their guilt taken care of without actually living the radical, self-denying, Jesus-loving lifestyle that God talks about.

Oh, but aren’t we healed by his stripes? Didn’t he become poor so that we could be rich?

He became sin, not poverty. He because sin so that we might become the righteousness of God. He became sin so that you could realize life is more than $$$. Isaiah 53 is talking about Christ’s sacrifice. Again and again God points to our sin. How can we suddenly think that he is referring to physical and economic ailments in verse 5? Only if we are living to believe a lie (a lie that comes with an expense account).

So go ahead. Store up your treasures. Hang out with Mammon. If you’re content with that, more power to you. Turn the Calvary road into a Law Vegas Strip. Me, I’m holding out for something better. I’m not satisfied with a BMW. I want Jesus. And Jesus carried a cross and told me that if I want him I’m going to have to pick up my own and follow him.

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We’ve all heard the stories.

A man is tortured and murdered while asking God to spare his attackers.

A woman forgives and befriends her husband’s savage killers.

A woman spends her life living way below her means and giving away everything she has to help the poor.

A man spends all his money on charity.

Someone is kind to someone they don’t need to be kind to.

We’ve all heard the stories. But you know what stories we never hear?

A man is kind to a good friend.

A woman prepares a decent lunch for her children.

A husband gives flowers to his loving wife.

You never hear those kind of stories. You know why? Because those stories are boring. There’s nothing special about them. You gave your wife some flowers? What, do you want a trophy for that or something? That’s just being generally kind. You’re supposed to be at least that kind. It’s the stories of Radical Kindness that stick out. The stories of kindness in the face of opposition and death that make us wonder what you’re hoping in and what you’re standing on. It’s Radical Kindness that proclaims something to the world.

No one will ever suspect that you place your hope anywhere special if your level of kindness is not remarkable. And I mean that literally. Remarkable – worthy of being remarked on. Are you so kind that other people walk away shaking their heads and saying ‘What is with that guy? I’ve never seen anyone act like that. There is either something seriously wrong with him or he knows something I don’t know.’?

Let’s be kind together. Let’s smile and wave at the guy who cuts us off on the highway. Let’s take five minutes out of out day and sit and talk with the dirty homeless guy as he begs for change. Let’s invite that annoying family out for dinner and pay for it. Let’s give a bunch of stuff to people who could use it and don’t deserve it. Let’s be nice, because if we’re not we’re all just a bunch of liars, aren’t we?

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I stare at the bland ceiling and think about life. I think about the prospect of having worked hard, paid my dues and finding out that, perhaps, it all meant nothing.

You hear of people devoting their lives to things that don’t matter. You see people spending hours and hours in from of the TV. Useless. Short-lived. Scary.

Thoughts of my own futility scare the crap out of me. What if it’s all worthless? What if I spend three years writing a book and two people read it? What if I slave my whole life for a cause benefits no one? What if I wake up early every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to write a blog, but no one reads it?

Are you afraid of futility? I guess it’s a good fear to have. I’m afraid that what I do will not last. I’m afraid of the sands slipping away in the hourglass. Are you? Be afraid. Fear spurs you on. Sometimes I get so afraid I pull myself out of bed and work on something productive.

I found the secret to beating the fear when it becomes to great. Want to hear it?

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,  so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but sit shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”

There it is – I just make sure that the work I busy myself in is attached to God’s work. If it points to him it must be good.

And I work on. I don’t think I’ll ever be sure if most of my work is futile or not, but I work on anyway. I know that, at the very least, since I busy myself with God’s work it will help me. Even if only two people read the thing I worked for three years on, at least the writing of it was a benefit to me. And I guess that’s enough for now.

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I heard a cool story the other day.

There was this university guy who hated all Christians (because all authorities hate Christians) and he was going to prove Christianity wrong by dropping a piece of chalk and letting it break (if it broke, God didn’t exist). But one student stood up and said that Christianity was right and he had faith (brave dude, eh?). So the professor laughed and dropped the chalk, but it bounced off his cuff and rolled safely onto the floor (proving Christianity true, Q.E.D.). So then the teacher got scared and ran out of the room (for some reason) and the student who stood up came to the blackboard and preached the gospel (and no-one minded because of the chalk). Oh, and the student was Einstein.

It must be true. Because it helps our case, right?

We are such gullible people. We Christians are willing to believe pretty much anything so long as it agrees with the principles of what we already believe. So we are willing to swallow obvious lies about Darwin’s deathbed confessions, computers that prove Joshua made the sun stand still, Einstein being a Christian and a fetus grabbing a doctor’s hand. Are we so afraid of Truth that we are willing to make up and blindly believe lies?

If we are going to show the world what we stand on, it will take intellectual fidelity. This is hard. This means that we will have to search and dig and stand on truth even if it seems that the truth we discover doesn’t actually help us convince people of the truth of Christ. But we have to do it anyway. We have to be committed to truth because the moment we start believe and propagating lies about Jesus being portrayed in a gay movie we are putting up a big sign saying ‘Hey! I don’t care much about truth or fiction. I don’t mind believing things I’ve never tested. I agree with things I like and disagree with things I don’t!’

Christians have complained about the fact that most people think there is a necessary conflict between Intellect and Christianity. They shouldn’t complain because it’s the actions and opinions of Christians who give credence to that opinion.

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While the feeling I get when I encounter jerks is certainly different than the feeling I get when around spiders, I am still kept up at night by them. I’ve never understood them.

How many problems in the world would be solved if jerks simply stopped being jerks? What if every jerk turned into a nice guy/girl? Off the top of my head I can think of five pressing problems in my life that would be utter solved and turned into loveliness if the jerks involved turned nice.

Is it really that hard? Is it so hard to be kind? Is it so hard to stop giving in to your jerky tenancies and assume, for a moment, that other humans have feelings and hopes and dreams that you shouldn’t pound?

I guess it might be. And I guess it takes Jesus to fix that, right? So Jerk + Jesus = Nice Dude.

So why are most jerks I know Christians?

Of course, I suppose most people I know are Christians, so I’m not suggesting that there are more jerks in Christendom than out of it. But shouldn’t Christians not be jerks? Isn’t a Christian someone who lives as Jesus lived? Or at least tries? If that’s the case, then is it not impossible for a Christian to be a jerk? Love and Jerk do not go together.

Something’s wrong here and it keeps me up at night.

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The challenge is to show the world that we are hoping in and counting on something different from what they are counting on and hoping in. We can’t do that if we are not radical. If we are not radical we are normal. If we are normal we are like everyone else. If we are like everyone else we are not hoping in or counting on anything special. And if we are not hoping in or counting on anything special we don’t know Jesus.

Jesus is radical. Jesus said to sell all that you have and give it to the poor. Jesus said if anyone asks from you, you need to give. Jesus said your possessions don’t matter. Jesus knows what he’s talking about.

Christians are not radical. Christians say get a decent savings account and buy big things on credit. Christians say never give to beggars because if they can’t get a job they’re either lazy or junkies. Christians think possessions are the most important things in the world. Christians are dummies.

There is nothing wrong with you going to the bank, withdrawing $400 and giving it to a charity, a less-well-off family or a bum on the street. Nothing. Do you think the poor in Jesus’ day were more responsible than they are today? Not likely. And he suggested selling everything.

But, of course, we can’t do that. Something has changed since then. I’m not sure what. I don’t know why Jesus’ advice is no longer sound, but I know it just can’t work anymore. Maybe because people were more financially stable back then. Maybe because Jesus cared more back then. Maybe because poor people deserved it more back then.

I was once told that I shouldn’t give money to poor people because they don’t deserve it. I am so glad no one told Jesus that when he was giving his life for me, because I certainly don’t deserve it. Do you?

If we don’t give radically, people will assume (rightly) that we rely on the same things they do.

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