The Most Repeated Error Taught Within Otherwise Solid Churches

Think through this thought with me. I believe there is an error that is being taught in most of our churches today. Sunday School teachers teach it. I guess some pastors preach it. People repeat it in theological discussions, post it on Facebook and build other teachings around it. You’ve heard it said a thousand times: ALL SIN IS THE SAME TO GOD.

The problem with that statement is that it is patently false and stands in contradiction to any honest reading of Scripture. There is absolutely no way a person can read through the Bible and come to the conclusion that God can’t tell the difference between one sin or another or that God is equally offended by every sin or that His response to every type of sin will be the same. Another untruth that derives from this false premise is that all sin should be treated the same by people or the church. The whole of Scripture contradicts these ideas, and so do many specific verses as I will demonstrate shortly.

But first, we must ask from whence this idea came?  As far as I can tell, this idea came mostly from a desire among church members not to be judgmental, which, of course, is a good desire in and of itself. In fact, these days we’d rather be wrong than judgmental. I’ll write a future blog on the common misinterpretation of what it means to be judgmental, as that is a related but different discussion. Back to the point, we simply don’t want to say one sin is worse than another. We want to equate all sins, because that ensures that we cannot deem someone else’s sin to be worse than ours. Again, this comes from a good heart. The problem is that the idea that no sin is worse than any other sin is simply not true.

But surely,  since we’re talking about Pastors and Sunday School teachers teaching this idea, it must have come from somewhere in the Bible, right?  Well, sort of. There are portions of “The Sermon on the Mount,” where Jesus indicates that the less obvious sin, such as lust, makes one just as guilty as the more obvious sin, such as adultery. He says the same of hatred and murder, etc. However His point is that both the obvious and less-than obvious are sinful and either will equally make one guilty.  His point is not that both sins are exactly the same to God. Similarly, James says “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point, he has become guilty of all” (2:10.)  The point of these teachings is the same. We have all sinned. Sin of all types makes us guilty before God… guilty enough to face judgment and Hell. So, in the sense of making us guilty before a Holy God, yes, any and all sin does that. However, neither James nor Jesus came close to teaching that all sin is exactly the same or that all sin is the same according to God. Big difference.

And so someone asks: How does the Bible refute the statement, “All sin is the same to God?”  That’s a funny question. The Bible doesn’t need to refute it, because the Bible doesn’t say it in the first place. However, does anyone really believe Sodom and Gomorrah would have been burned to the ground because the people broke the speed limit or because most of them made copies of CD’s?  Does anyone really believe that a perfectly just God sees the sins of Hitler exactly the same as the sins of whatever godly spiritual leader you respect?  Is a lie or gossip really exactly the same as mass murder to God?  Come now.

So what does the Bible say?  Well, Jesus told Pilate (John 19:11) that the sins of the Jews were GREATER than his sin, because they should have known better. This alone refutes the idea that one sin is not greater than another. The Apostle Paul said there were certain sins that should lead to a person’s dismissal from a church body (1 Cor. 5, etc.) Christ indicated this as well in his letters to the churches (Revelation 2-3). Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is certainly singled out as “worse” than other sin in Matthew 12:31. In Luke 12, Jesus even seems to suggest that there may be differing degrees of punishment depending on the nature of the sin. In Matthew 23 and Luke 20, Jesus calls out the sins of certain religious leaders as “worthy of greater condemnation” than the sins of others. Also in Matthew 23, Jesus talked about “the weightier things of the Law,” perhaps indicating some laws (rules) may be more important than others, heaven forbid (See Leviticus.)  Matthew 6 and 18 call out “un-forgiveness” as a particularly heinous sin. And, in fact, certain sins are consistently spoken of as being exceptionally offensive to God throughout the Bible. There can be little doubt that sexual immorality and idolatry are portrayed as particularly offensive to God. In short, no honest reading of the Bible could possibly leave one thinking that all sin is the same to God. No way.

As Jesus said in Luke 7:47, “He who has been forgiven little, loves little.”  Let us not rob future believers of a powerful testimony by telling them there is nothing exceptional for which they need to be forgiven, when, in fact, their sin might be exceptional. Paul said, because of His previous murderous actions, “I am the chief of sinners.”  I guess he assumed that tracking down Christ-followers and having them killed was a particularly bad kind of sin before a Holy God. It sure felt like a worse kind of sin to Steven, don’t you think?  Yes, Paul was forgiven more than some. That’s why he also loved more than some.

Let’s get practical. What am I really doing when I say that committing homosexual acts (for instance) is no more offensive to God than a momentary prideful thought?  What I am doing is watering down the sin of same-sex intercourse, and forgetting all that the Bible says about it. Don’t misunderstand. Pride is certainly evil, sinful and worthy of damnation to God, but we don’t normally elevate our sin of pride to the level of sexual immorality in this argument. We simply can’t pull that off. Rather, we lower our view of sexual immorality until we can view a lifestyle God called “an abomination” as “not really that bad.”  This is exactly what is happening. Watering down sin is the end game of our wrong thinking here. When we say “All sin is the same to God,” what winds up happening is that we basically throw up our hands and say, “Oh well, I might as well do whatever I want, because I’m going to do something wrong, and anything I do that is wrong is just as bad as anything else, so I might as well just do what I want.”  We also stop acting as salt and light in a dark and tasteless world, because now we are all dark and tasteless. It’s all the same. There is no purity. There is now, no “straight and narrow.”  There are only shades of gray, and we are all gray. There is no ability to walk with God, because we all have a sinful thought or a slip of the tongue now and then, and now that is just as bad as shacking up with a golden retriever. Forgive my bluntness, because it is designed to drive home the point in a way that can’t be ignored. The idea that God sees all sin the same is simply not reasonable.

God killed Ananias and Sapphira for sin. He wiped out Sodom and Gomorrah for sin. He didn’t wipe out every city nor did He kill every church member, yet we know that every city and every member of the church had sin. Clearly, some sin is more dangerous before a Holy God.

So, am I saying we should go around telling people their sin is worse than ours or come up with lists of those sins that are particularly bad?  No. I’m not saying that at all. There is another discussion to be had about what the world SHOULD hear us saying and what they should NOT hear us saying. Our primary job is not to judge their sin. In the scope of this blog, all I am pointing out is that we need to stop saying “It’s all the same to God,” because that is a lie from Satan with pervasive consequences for our churches and our culture.

All sin is damning. That much is true. Only by the blood of Christ are any of us saved and no one is “too bad” for salvation in Christ. The issue at salvation is not “how bad is your sin,” but “how great was His sacrifice?”  We are saved by grace through faith, and not of works (Eph. 2:8). No one is good enough and no one is beyond hope (See all the “whosoever’s.”)  All of that is true. But be careful, brothers and sisters. When the world hears us saying “All sin is the same to God,” we may think they will appreciate our “tolerance.”  However, all they are really hearing is that we worship an unjust God who doesn’t make any moral sense. Worse, they are not hearing about the God of the Bible. Perhaps we need to choose our words more carefully, when we are talking about our God. And that’s a thought to think through.

I Don't Know What I Don't Know

I don’t know what I once knew, because I forget stuff. I’ve had the order of the books of the Bible memorized many times, but I’m not sure I could get through them on the spot right now. Yesterday, in a dinner conversation with church members, I couldn’t remember whether the Tower of Babel happened before or after The Flood. Yeah, embarrassing. Last week, I got mixed up between John 10:9-10 and 1 John 10:9-10. I think I even mixed in a little Romans 8:9-10 for a nicely convoluted conglomeration of verses and an un-sureness about where each of them came from. It was beautiful. Don’t worry, I have it straight now… for at least another week or two until I forget again. I don’t know what I don’t know.

Earlier in my ministry, I was sure of many things. Now I’m sure about a few things. I hold many beliefs much more loosely now and wonder if I might be wrong much more often. Systematic theology now seems to me like a bad idea. Many readers won’t understand. Many pastors and “mature” church members hold to their beliefs with a fearful dogmatism that doesn’t allow them to really consider the possibility of being wrong. Someone probably thinks I’m in danger of liberalism now, but if so, you don’t know me very well. The point is that I don’t know what I don’t know.

Recently, I was quoting something in Greek. I thought I had been very careful in checking my resources, but later found out I had used the wrong form of the word repeatedly in my sermon. I have well over 200 hours of education from Baptist universities and seminaries. I have a Master’s degree from a major seminary and have worked on doctorates in 2 different schools, though I am far from finished. However, not knowing I would be doing what I am doing today, I got the “wrong” degrees in the first place. I’ve never had a course in Greek. “Oh, well why don’t you just take one,” someone says. I may. However, I still won’t know what I don’t know. In fact, one wonders if one wouldn’t just be more dangerous. Debatable. I don’t know what I don’t know.

People consider me to be smart. They do. Everyone tells me so. Then why do I constantly feel like such an idiot?  I feel like I don’t know anything. Seriously. I certainly don’t know as much about theology or exegesis or hermeneutics as my Associate Pastor. He has an advanced degree with emphasis on Greek and Hebrew. He reads scholarly journals in his spare time. I read Christianity Today… sometimes. In all seriousness, I do try to continue my education and am fighting my way through Bonheoffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship” right now, but I won’t remember what I learned from it next year. In my Bible reading, I write down amazing new insights constantly. The problem is, I probably had those same insights a year or two ago. I forgot. At one point I could make a great case for who wrote the book of Hebrews, but now I can’t remember my points. I don’t know what I don’t know.

I wonder if any other pastors out there can identify with this insecurity. We are supposed to know everything… at least about spiritual things or the Bible. Some pastors act like they do, and I don’t blame them. That’s one way to deal with this. We feel pressured to portray ourselves as experts. The problem is that claiming to be an expert in the Bible is like claiming to be an expert in life. The topic is way too huge. I think that if I really worked at it for years, I might be able to become an expert on chapter eight of the book of Romans. That would be a high, yet reasonable goal, maybe. Then again, even at that, I still wouldn’t know what I don’t know.

Let me wrap up this anxious rant with a prayer. Father, I come to you in all humility. My brain isn’t big enough. I need to experience the miracle of You speaking through me. I need Your Holy Spirit to fill me with the right words in the right situations. Please use me in spite of me. Please make up for my pitiful weakness. I am a fool… just a baby with a power tool… a feeble-minded pea brain, who is slightly more or less educated than the other pea brains on earth. Teach me what I really need to know, Lord. You are the only One who knows everything I don’t know.

A Leadership Problem

One of the biggest problems in the established church today is that so few really understand leadership. Even our best supporters tend to think our primary job as pastors is to keep the church members happy. They even report to us, “Pastor nobody is saying anything bad right now.  Way to go!” Or “Pastor, so and so didn’t like what you said about this or that,” and it’s like a tally mark in the column where enough tally marks means it is time to find a new job. And yet we are called to lead like Jesus, who constantly whittled down the crowd with harsh statements of truth designed to drive off mediocre followers. 

Jesus was never about keeping people. He was about finding people. Me too.

This really is a big problem. There is an assumption that upsetting people in the church with what we say or do is a very bad thing. This is a double standard. “Pastor, lead on and we’re with you, as long as most people keep liking everything you do and say.” But leadership is all-but precluded in the requirement to keep people happy, especially since the modern church is so far off from what Jesus envisioned. Still, everyone seems to know that the pastor has obviously messed up if the church is upset with him, right? But think about what this means. Think about what this means for our sermons. Think about what this means for our decision making. 

The people of any given church, presumably, are in that church because they already like the way things are and I’ve noticed most of them are fairly happy with themselves, as a general rule, so what happens when the pastor wants to change things or, heaven forbid, change them? I’ll tell you what happens. Those same people assume you must not be very fond of your job. 

Why on earth, preacher, would you be so stupid as to say and do things that are not particular pleasing to your parishioners? Don’t you understand that you are constantly on trial and that others are waiting to take your place? Don’t you know that everyone is always trying to decide whether they like you as their pastor or might like someone else better? Isn’t there some way to grow the church and keep everyone happy while actually making a difference for the Kingdom of God?

And so we do not lead. We do not follow Christ. And usually those who are good at diplomacy and relationships and who can preach a pretty good sermon are allowed to stay for a long time. And so most of our churches stay roughly the same. And we continue to fail. And the world continues to go on without us as we stay happy in our little Christian clubs that don’t resemble the revolutionary missionary organism that Jesus called us to be.

I have decided not to settle for this.   

Why do I feel like I just placed a target on my forehead?

A Lesson From Ahab

Ahab was one of the evil kings who ruled over Israel during the period of the divided kingdom. In fact, he may have been the worst king out of some pretty terrible kings.  First Kings 21:25-26 says, “Surely there was no on like Ahab who sold himself to do evil in the sight of the LORD, because Jezebel his wife incited him. He acted very abominably in following idols….” After the Lord’s anger was full, he sent Elijah the prophet to let Ahab know that both he and his wife were about to face gruesome death. The Word of the Lord was not “iffy.”  Elijah made the absolute statement that they would be destroyed. What happens next blows my mind. 

The Bible says, “It came about when Ahab heard these words, that he tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and fasted, and he lay in sackcloth and went about despondently.  Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah the Tishbite, saying, 'Do you see how Ahab has humbled himself before Me?  Because he has humbled himself before Me, I will not bring the evil in his days….'” 

Much could be said about this passage, but I come to it in a time when God has been reminding me repeatedly of the power of fasting. You won’t find a strong man of God in the Bible who didn’t regularly fast as a part of his prayer life. Reading through the Old Testament, it seems 8 out of 10 stories of God’s power involved fasting at some point. Name a famously awesome Bible character. He fasted and saw God move as a result. Somehow we skim over this, but look again and you’ll see that God responds to prayer and fasting like nothing else.  

In the New Testament, fasting is no less prominent. John the Baptist and his disciples fasted.  Jesus fasted, and said that later His disciples (that’s us) would fast. Jesus once indicated that sometimes prayer alone would not suffice, but that fasting would be needed to get the job done (Mark 9:29). There is something very powerful that happens when we add fasting to our prayer life. I know this both from reading the Word of God and by personal experience.

However, the point I want to make here is finer than just that Christ followers should fast. The point is that if Ahab, perhaps the most evil king of Israel, could basically change the plans of God through a season of desperate prayer and fasting, then what if those of us who are righteous in Christ were to fast as seriously? Someone will want to debate whether God changed His plans. Just read the story. God said he was going to do one thing. Ahab fasted and prayed. God said he would no longer do what he was going to do. Say what you want, but God’s heart was moved and He did something differently because of Ahab’s season of prayer and fasting. What if we fasted and prayed as desperately as evil Ahab?

We are not desperate enough.  We are not asking enough.  We are not fasting enough.

Really God?

I woke up thankful today.  Not thankful for the usual stuff… family, possessions, freedom, etc., but thankful for the ministry God has given me.  I’m blown away.  I am now the pastor of First Baptist Church of Longview, Washington.  How again did I come to this opportunity?  Really God?

I could tell you all the reasons I shouldn’t be here, but then you might not respect me as much.  I could tell you about my inadequacies and all of the ways that I “don’t fit the mold.”  I could point out that my experience was weird… a worship pastor turned church planter… now become a large church pastor.  How did I come to this position?  Seven staff members?  Really God?

I remember a few years ago feeling a call to go “where no one else is working,” as Paul put it in 2^nd Corinthians 10:16.  And now, here I am, thirty hours from “home” in the “least reached” portion of the United States.  I know that God called me here as a part of something huge… perhaps even another great awakening.  I know God has big plans for the Northwest.  I feel it in my soul.  The crazy thing is that He called ME here to be a part of His big plans, perhaps even to help lead this move of His.  God called me to one of the bigger churches in the region… a church with crazy potential.  As if I were some great evangelist or amazing leader.  God, couldn’t you have found someone better? Really God? 

Who am I?  I am but dust.  I am an unknown pastor.  I am a nobody in the twitter-verse with less than a hundred followers so far.  My name would not appear in the “Who’s Who” list of Christian leaders, if there were such a thing.  I was unknown in Missouri.  I am unknown in Washington.  I have no desire to be known… unless being known is a necessary evil that comes with doing great things in Christ. 

And so here I am on the cusp, I believe, of a great move of God, and I believe God wants to use me in a BIG way.  Why else would He have placed me in such a position of influence and potential as I now find myself.  It’s crazy.  Me?  Really God?

Lord, I surrender to Your plan.  I have nothing You need.  All I can promise is that I will strive with everything I have to follow your lead.  Nothing You ask of me will I refuse.  I don’t deserve to be here.  I have done nothing to earn this opportunity, therefore I will not live as if I were entitled to it.  Instead, I lay it back down at Your feet.  I return what You have given me.  Like Moses, only in the fact that I feel inadequate, and that I offer you this rod of mine, hoping to take it up again as the Rod of God.

I am Yours.  Lead me.  Really God.  

He's Got This

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord. ⁹ “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts. ¹⁰ “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, And do not return there without watering the earth And making it bear and sprout, And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; ¹¹ So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.  Isaiah 55:8–11 (NASB95)

Whispers of vision. Thoughts of leadership. Decisions to make. Ideas that are larger than life. Plans that need implementation. Each of these mental exercises take turns haunting my “down times.” Having attended a retreat for pastors and wives this week, and being on the front end of a new position in a new church, my heart and mind are chock full of vision for the future. 

We were asked this week, “If money were not an issue and you had no opposition, what would you do? Where would you lead your church?” Wow. I think Pandora’s box just opened in my mind, and I am dangerously close to getting lost in my own little world of what could be. This sort of “visioneering” (ala Andy Stanley), can be a good thing, of course, but NOT if in having vision, I take the all-too-natural track of thinking it is up to me to make it happen.

Just then, my thoughts shift….

What of the drug problem in my community? Can those whose minds are lost in drink and drugs even receive the Gospel in truth? Or will they only return to their squalor and bring more shame to the name of Christ? Can He break through these lifestyles of sin? Are we to become a center for overcoming addictions, then?  And though the fields are white for the harvest, how many will ask about our position on homosexuality as a prerequisite to even listening to our message? How many will reject us for this single moral stand which we nonetheless cannot abandon. And what about the fact that the huge poor population in my community thinks my church is for the rich or, at best, a place to get a hand out? And what about those many Christians who I can’t seem to convince to come to church? What about the traditionalists in my own congregation who live to protect that which is not sacred at the expense of that which is? What about the legalists who want to haggle over questions of the Law?  What about those in my church who treat unbelievers as if they were the enemy rather than lost sheep or longed-for prodigals. What about my own limitations… and the fact that no matter what I do, I will often be misunderstood, misquoted and even lied about? What about the fact that many are still waiting to see if I am “worthy” of being followed? What about the barriers to our growth, the removal of which, might feel like cutting off an arm or a leg…?

Eventually, I always come to this intersection of vision and reality where I find myself standing still.  What can I do about all of these seemingly insurmountable barriers to the vision of God?  I can become an instrument instead of an instigator.  I can trust the promise of Isaiah 55 (above). I can turn my ineptitude into a resolve to surrender to God’s higher, more powerful ways.  Meanwhile, I can pray and I can preach. 

Really?  That’s it?  Just pray and preach… and leave the rest to God?  Pretty much.  I don’t see anything in Isaiah 55 or in the book of Acts or anywhere else that says the vision is my responsibility to achieve. What exactly is my job anyway? And what am I to do with all of this Godly vision for expanding the Kingdom of God?

What did the first pastors do?  They prayed and they preached. As they were faithful to those two things, God changed the world through them (see Acts 2 and 6).  More and more I am understanding that these two things (prayer and preaching), together, ARE my calling.  As I pray and as I preach, I can trust that God’s Word will not return void, and that in His time, as I am faithful to ACTUALLY pray and preach HIS WORD, the fruit will come.  YES THE FRUIT WILL COME.  The Lord is faithful, and HE will do it.  Amen.