Circumstances and Love

If you've hung around the Evangelical Christian movement much, you've probably seen some variant of a Prosperity Church. They're not the prevailing approach, but significant enough to warrant discussion. More important than who they are, though, is how the Prosperity Gospel can affect people with its subtle implications.

The most popular incarnation of the Prosperity Gospel goes something like this - God rewards His good and faithful children. If you obey and trust in Him, He will increase you and your tribe. This view often subtly implies that if a person encounters trials or troubles, they must have "done something" to earn God's anger and punishment. Most people don't come right out and say this part because most people subscribe to this part in an almost unconscious way. It's not nice, compassionate, or loving to tell someone they deserve their troubles, so we promise to pray for them and go home and pray they fall under God's blessing once again, almost unaware that we seem to think they've lost God's blessing in the first place.

There is another side to this coin, something I call the Suffering Gospel. If you are suffering or going through a time of trial, Satan must be out to get you. And if Satan is out to get you, then you must have really ticked him off by being such a good and faithful servant of the Lord. This is not all bad, because it sure can make you bound and determined to bear up in time of hardship (trust me, I know), but it has some subtle implications of its own. If your life is too comfortable, you aren't doing enough for God. It raises suffering up as proof of service and submission. It turns those among us passing through a season of trial into martyrs or paper saints.

The truth is that the Bible tells us that neither of these is correct. The Prosperity Gospel existed in a similar form during the time Jesus lived. This view has Old Testament roots that can't be denied - Numbers 14:18 says that the Lord will "visit(sic) the iniquity of the fathers on the children, to the third and fourth generation." It's the backdrop of the miraculous healing in John 9 of a man blind from birth. The disciples ask Jesus "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" It was assumed in the culture of the day that if a child was born disabled, that was punishment for sin. The only argument was whose sin it was meant to punish - did the child somehow sin in the womb or did the parents do something wrong? Jesus' answer was both telling and (at that time) shocking - "Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him."

Likewise, the story of Job tells us that sin is not punishment and goodness doesn't guarantee comfort. Job was tested severely - to the point of losing his family, his livelihood, his home, his health - but not because he was disobedient. We are told in verse 1:1 that Job was "blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil. " However, when Job's friends came to "comfort" him they repeatedly accused him of having sinned against the Lord and brought this calamity upon himself and his household. If I were to quote their accusations against him, I'd have to quote 2/3 of the book of Job.

What about the flip side? There are verses in the Bible that would make suffering sound desirable. In fact, look at Job. I've heard many people compared to Job, with the favorable connotation that they are heroes of the faith and their sufferings only prove that they are as righteous and blameless as Job was.

The New Testament sometimes seems to glorify suffering. 1 Peter 2:19 calls it "commendable to bear up under unjust suffering." 2 Timothy 2:3 says "Join with me in suffering, like a good soldier of Christ Jesus." Romans 5:3 exhorts us to "glory in our sufferings" and 1 Thessalonians 1:6 calls those who welcome the Word in the midst of suffering "imitators of... the Lord." However, nowhere is there a direct statement that we cannot be good servants without suffering. In fact, 2 Corinthians 1:8 puts the New Testament discussion of suffering in very nice context, saying "We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced..."

The New Testament certainly seems to make a great deal of suffering and martyrdom, but that's because Christians were being persecuted for their new beliefs and needed examples of strength to help them be strong. Romans 5:3, when continued, goes on to say "...because we know that suffering produces perseverance;  perseverance, character; and character, hope." We don't glory in our suffering because they make us better or more holy than others, but have the ability develop in us strength and peace and deeper trust and faith in the Lord who carries us through, if not to better days here, than to a better eternity in heaven.

I've heard Ecclesiastes referred to as the "weird uncle of the Bible." From one perspective, it's a pretty dismal book. It's a collection of the reflections of Solomon, ruminating on how brief and meaningless life is. He points out, repeatedly and in various ways, that "the same fate overtakes them both." The fool and the wise both will die. Good men will strive for wealth that will be lost. Fools will fall into riches that will soon leave them. At times we will be well, at other times we will be sick. There is a time for everything, and it will come to us all. In verse 10:14 he says "No one knows what is coming - who can tell him what will happen after him?" He refers to life as a "meaningless chasing" and actually uses the word meaningless an impressive number of times for such a short book. But then he puts all that meaninglessness into context. Because life is so fleeting and meaningless, the only thing we can do is "Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man."

We can be tempted to judge peoples' hearts by their circumstances. We figure people get themselves into their scrapes. If you are struggling financially, you must have squandered your money or you might be lazy. If you are in trouble with the law, you must be a troublemaker. If you are on drugs, you must be a selfish loser. Both versions of the prosperity teachings imply, dangerously, that our external circumstances are the result of our internal condition. That we can judge the heart of a person by what is happening to them.  

This can stunt our ability to reach out to others. If we view those struggling as deserving of their suffering, we cannot be moved by compassion. If we view suffering as proof of piousness, we are less available for true love and empathy because we've made our neighbor into a one dimensional caricature. We may also find our hands tied from a misguided belief that relieving their pain would interfere with God's purposes. If we view prosperity as heavenly approval, we miss the opportunity to stand beside a wealthy brother whose heart is troubled or who hides secret afflictions. In fact, by viewing peace and prosperity as proof of goodness we encourage our brothers and sisters to hide their struggles, turning our congregation into liars and hypocrites more focused on trying to look good than on loving and serving the Lord.

Matthew 5:45 makes it simple. "He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." How much better would it be if we decided not to judge people by their circumstances, but to stand with them in whatever situations they face? How much healthier if we encouraged our family in Christ to be honest and transparent? How much greater weight would we carry with the unbeliever and how much better would we be able to share the light of God's love if we were not hypocrites and liars, but rather embraced everyone in need? Let's resolve to fix our minds on what Jesus said, himself, in John 9:4, when discussing the man blind from birth. "As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work." 

What's the Point?

Why bother helping the homeless, the unemployed, the poor, the drug addict, etc?

It's sort of an unspoken question. It's hinted at every time the discussion turns to our welfare programs. It's suggested every time we talk about the person we drove past with the sign. We don't say the words aloud, but it's in our mind every time the opportunity to help comes up. Deep inside, there's mental math we start calculating of whether the investment is worthwhile.

But the real question is deeper - what would make it worthwhile to us?

Is it worth it to you to see a drunkard warm for an evening in a shelter you helped pay for? Is it worth it to put food in the tummy of a meth addict because you handed them a package of crackers when you saw them begging for money? What do you see when you see the homeless, the poor, the food insecure? Do you see someone who needs to put their life together and stop messing around, or do you see someone hurting who is still, underneath it all, a human being?

 
That's the point. Every time we help someone (help them, not enable them) we affirm their basic humanity. We make the statement that, no matter how much you've screwed up, it's still wrong to let you starve or freeze to death. We make the statement that it's not about what you will do for us, what changes you'll make, how you'll pay it back. It's about your basic humanity, and the basic human needs you have, and the basic truth that we would want someone to offer hots and cot, or just kind words, if we were in those raggedy old shoes.

When we start putting it in that context we can re-frame the question in a bold way. What can I do that truly helps this person? How can I meet their actual needs? Their sign says they are homeless - could I carry a few copies of a list of emergency shelters and long-term housing programs in my car to hand out? The sign says "Hungry" - could I have some snacks in the glove compartment for a time like this? Could I give to an organization in my area? Could I volunteer somewhere?

When we change our perspective, we can really start to care for all human beings simply because they are human beings. And that, my friends, is the point.