SoulWork
Love Needs No Reason
One difference between the therapeutic gospel and the liberating gospel.
Mark Galli | posted 3/18/2010 08:54AM
In a therapeutic culture in which psychology is the lingua franca, it's easy to inadvertently subvert the gospel, to imagine we're talking about the gospel when we're really talking about the anti-gospel.
A few months ago when I was traveling, I attended a local church that was "the" evangelical church in that suburb. The text for the day was the story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). The preacher began by reminding us of the context—the search of a shepherd for a valuable sheep; the search of a woman for a valuable coin. We were then told that the father in the parable, when he saw his wayward son far off, did not see someone who was selfish or a loser. Instead, through all the junk, he saw something valuable: a son. The sermon concluded with a reminder that God gives us the ability to see the treasure, the value in everyone we meet.
I am one with this preacher's motives and aims, and his insight that the father first and foremost saw a son is the essence of the gospel. But in his desire to proclaim the magnificent love of God, he inadvertently fell into language that risks proclaiming bad news—the talk that suggests the intrinsic value in the object of love. This preacher did not go so far as to say it, but I've heard the following in sermons and read it in books by respectable evangelicals: "You are unique and valuable. You were worth so much to God that he was willing to die to redeem you, so you could be in his family." And this: "We are worth the price God paid for us, the death of his Son."
But of course this gets it exactly backwards. Unfortunately, in an attempt to convey the radical love of God, such well meaning Christians actually sabotage it.
For if we have some measure of intrinsic value to God, a number of things follow: First, it is our value, and not God's love, that forces God's hand. He looks at us and sees something of value, and being a reasonable fellow—one who knows and appreciates things of value—he pretty much has to redeem us. The love of God is not given freely in mercy to the undeserving, but instead to the deserving—because, after all, we are of infinite worth! God would be a poor judge of character if he did not choose to die for us.
Second, if we had intrinsic worth, then it is hard to imagine why Christ would have had to die for us. We are already people of "infinite worth"—what's there to die for? Instead, you'd think Christ would come to earth to pay us homage. You would think his mission might have been to tell us about our infinite worth, and to makes sure we not only get that point but also live it. The mission of Christ would be educational and moral, but it would hardly need to be salvific.
Third, it would be hard to know what it means when the Bible talks about—and it talks about this stuff a lot—our being God's enemies, in rebellion against him, deserving of death. The ideas that swirl around our supposed infinite worth, of course, emphasize that we're mostly victims, trapped in a nexus of sin and death. God sees people of great value chained by circumstances beyond their control and comes to the rescue. God becomes a big brother helping the innocent but infinitely valuable lost, and not a merciful savior of the very people who are his enemies.
No longer worthy—reallyIf this approach gets it exactly backward, the prodigal son gets it exactly right: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son."
March (Web-only) 2010, Vol. 54