Religion Poisons Everything

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In today's modern world, what's the use of religion? It's simply old-fashioned superstition. Stories from the Bible are fairy tales. We don't need rituals like baptism and communion. Worse yet, fanatics from one religion kill extremists from another. Church leaders abuse children and steal money. Religion makes people stupid and evil. Jesus was a nice guy, but God's just not for me.

When you hear talk like that, it seems that belief in God is becoming rare these days. Maybe you have family members or friends who talk like this. Perhaps, although it is hard to admit it, you have heard doubts like this in your own mind.

Many Christians, even leaders and clergy, doubt but continue to come to church out of tradition, guilt, or fear. At times, we wish we could believe in Jesus Christ but don't. Church is boring; we think, “When will this service end so I can go home and watch my the game?" When we pray, we fear that no one out there is listening. Our prayer life is reduced to a quick “Our Father,” before bed just to cover our bases in case we die in our sleep. We think, "God, why did you take away my faith? Why don't I feel good when I pray anymore?” At times of doubt, religious practice stops giving us the comfort and assurance that we need.

But we want our piety to give us some happiness, comfort, or security. We enjoy beautiful worship and music. We meet new and interesting people at coffee hour. Being a Christian makes me feel like a respectable member of society, and reassures me that when I die I’ll go to heaven.

The comfort and assurance that comes from church, prayer, and Christian fellowship is great help in getting through our daily struggles. We all need the social support that we find in Christian fellowship. Yet when my religious practice stops giving me the comfort I want, my mixed motives are revealed. Maybe I've been using my religion selfishly. Maybe I use my piety to avoid or smooth over the rough spots in my life. When I’m caught off guard by fear of death, I start thinking about heaven as quick as I can, so that I don’t have to admit my mortality.

Times of doubt show us, in short, our childish and superficial approach to God. The use of religion to control our level of comfort is not real faith in Christ.

It seems that God sometimes allows a Christian’s piety to be removed for a season. This is not so that the Christian leaves the church and gives up on God. Rather, these times of doubt can be opportunities for spiritual growth. If we are honest and humble, sharing our thoughts with someone else, a pastor or a trusted friend, a period of doubt can be the time when false piety and magical thinking are removed. We can move from selfish piety to trust in Christ.

With honesty and humility, we can ask the Lord for help, even when he feels far away; we learn to rely more fully on Him. After all, I do not create God by my own piety. Reliance on our own piety gives way to real trust. We begin to trust that Jesus is Lord of the universe, and loves all humankind. Times of doubt are an opportunity to turn away from the false self and turn towards the true self, Jesus Christ.

When we learn, little by little, to trust in Jesus Christ rather than our own unaided will, we let ourselves be guided by Him. We let him take care of all those problems we see around us. It’s a relief not to be in the driver’s seat. Surely the creator and savior of all will be a better manager of my life than I will be. Guided by God’s will, we find joy and comfort that we couldn’t find when we were trying to control our lives.

Sermon: Matthew 9.27-35

The following is a slightly edited sermon delivered at a preaching class. As I am new to preaching, I thought I would share it with the hopes of benefiting from your comments:

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This reading is from the gospel of Matthew. It presents us with a story of Jesus who heals two blind men and casts a demon out of a man, restoring his ability to speak. The story takes place a little before halfway through the gospel. Up to this point in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus had begun his ministry by preaching “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” He assembled followers and preached his message in the well-known “Sermon on the Mount.” He healed the sick without prejudice or partiality. He healed social outcasts, non-Jews, and women. He even raised from the dead the young daughter of one of the rulers of the synagogue. Matthew tells us through stories that Jesus is the one the Prophet Isaiah had spoken of: “He took our infirmities and bore our diseases.” [Isaiah 53.4] As the crowds saw the miraculous healings that Jesus performed, they “glorified God, who had given such authority to men” the evangelist tells us. [Matt. 9.8]

As Jesus was travelling with his disciples, word began spread of this mysterious teacher, who was descended from King David himself, and who preached that the kingdom of God is near. He was not merely a teacher, but the kingdom seemed already to be near when Jesus was around. People marveled to one another saying, “Never before was anything like this seen in Israel!” Perhaps he is the Christ, the Messiah that will save us from the heel of Roman oppression. The word gave hope to those who were sick and infirm. The rumor must have reached the blind men in our story. Yet Jesus was met with scorn by the religious leaders of the day. The Pharisees doubted that his power to heal came from God, but said “He casts out demons by the prince of demons.”

As Jesus travelled, so the story tells us, two blind men followed him, crying out, and causing a great deal of commotion, “Have mercy on us, Son of David.” Jesus does not heal them in the open, but continues to his destination. Jesus’s healings are not just for show, not to draw attention to himself. When the two blind men approach him, Jesus asks “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” In other words, “Do you trust me?” And without hesitation they reply “Yes, Lord.” They immediately express their trust that Jesus could heal their blindness—He can do what no human power is able to do. No doctor, no other prophet or holy man had given them sight. Their trust of Jesus is extraordinary.

Jesus touched their eyes and said “According to your faith be it done to you.” And their eyes were opened.

What is this faith that these men possessed? What did it mean for them to trust Jesus’s power to heal them? These two men came in their weakness, in their frailty, their powerlessness, and asked Jesus to have mercy on them. They asked Jesus to do what they were utterly incapable of doing. They had little doubt that Jesus could heal them.

The opposite of this faith is not doubt, but pride. Shortly before Jesus healed the blind men, a scribe came to Jesus and confidently proclaimed “Teacher I will follow you wherever you go.” He desired to follow Jesus, and was confident that he could. Jesus gave this man a strange reply, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head.” I’m not sure what Jesus was saying with this cryptic reply, but he did not say “I’m really glad you want to follow me, why don’t you join us?” He did not praise the man’s commitment as he commended the blind men’s faith. He dismissed him. Where the blind men came to Jesus in their poverty and weakness, the scribe came to Jesus with good intentions, yet full of confidence in his own strength. Trusting in my own strength is the opposite of faith.

The story of the healing of the blind men is an instance of something Jesus will say later in the Gospel. He said, “Whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith.” (Matt 21.22) The blind men asked in faith, and received their sight. This story is instructional for us. We are to trust in the Lord and ask for his mercy. We are not to set up some sort of rule for ourselves: If I pray in this way, or fast, or be more self-disciplined or... The effort of our will, without faith, without God’s help, is useless. Although the story speaks of physical blindness, the important thing is spiritual blindness. We do not have eyes to see, and we do not have sufficient strength to follow Christ’s commands. We have hearts of stone, not loving God with all of our strength; we don’t love our neighbor as ourselves. We are too preoccupied and tangled up in thoughts, resentments and anxieties to do so.

Although this sounds depressing, this is good news. Our Lord tells us: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick… for I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Matt 9.12-13) We who are unwell can admit our frailties, yet trust in God to help us. It is precisely our weakness that the Lord bears for us.

Even in our doubt, in our lack of faith, the Lord can help us. At another time, a man who asked Jesus to heal his son, yet lacked faith cried out “I believe; help my unbelief!” and his son was healed. [Mark 9.24] Even those of us who are not gifted with unshakeable faith can trust the Lord to do what we can’t.

The church gives us the opportunity to imitate the blind men in our story. When we confess our shortcomings to one another and to the Lord, we admit our spiritual blindness, our hard-heartedness, the futility of our will to accomplish the Lord’s commandment of love without his aid. When we partake of the bread and wine, we approach our Lord, ask for his mercy, and he touches us. By relying on the Lord, rather than our own strength, we can begin to be healed of our infirmities, and be transformed into what we our creator intended us to be: men and women who see with new eyes and love him and our neighbor with new hearts.