By normal fundamental/evangelical standards, I “got saved” in a Baptist Church. And I don’t think it goes too far to say that “getting saved” has to be at least as important, or life changing, as “getting healed.”
About the picture: The twist in our tree (now bird feeder stand) happened when it was young. The good news, however, is that Jesus can straighten us out even when we’re old! :-)
But even so, I have a preference for the “saved” of Romans 5:10. My strong impression, gleaned from years of observation and experience is that God and Baptists have a rather significant difference of opinion as to what constitutes “church.” But I have to be careful that my personal opinion doesn’t become an idol, for present purposes, because we really do need to talk about the worship of dumb idols who cannot hear, speak, or straighten out a twisted tree.
Someone once said in my hearing that worship can be understood as “worth-ship.” It is to give worth or value (that properly belongs to God) to something or someone else. To worship a dumb idol, for instance, is to give value to something or someone. This isn’t to say we shouldn’t value one another. We just shouldn’t value them in ways that belong only to God.
Often this can be a very fine line, however. We have opinions, and so does God. But when we value our opinions more than the opinions of God, we are valuing dumb idols. (Have I mentioned that most of our idol problems are between our ears?) There is an increasing amount of this kind of false worship going on in our present day with all the “junior achievement religious experts” downgrading the scriptures to second place after their opinions. Have you noticed this?
Let’s just say we’re having a conversation here. You have an opinion, I have an opinion, and God has an opinion. All three opinions may be far removed from each other. That’s okay, just as long as we value God’s opinion more than we do our own. God’s opinion is that our conversations should only happen because we’re in love, which is required for “speaking the truth in love,” Ephesians 4:15. When we have these kind of conversations with someone, we grow up—not apart! But if we value our personal opinions too highly, both the person and God are shut out of our love-making. This is a big problem.
And this is the kind of problem I’m referring to when I said my personal opinion could become an idol. I don’t care much for Baptist as a system, but I don’t want to lock Baptists out of my heart or conversation. In the same way, I don’t care much for the “coping mechanisms” of any religious venue, because I see them as distractions from the work of the Cross, offered as alternatives to the work of the Cross, and given more value than the work of the Cross. My impression/opinion is that the Cross is more valuable than any and all of the “coping mechanisms” out there that is being offered as a way of getting “saved,” “healed,” or “fixed.”
Perhaps I need to make a disclaimer here, which I do with fear and trembling. The healing I’m speaking about here is the one mentioned and quoted so often from Isaiah 53: “By His stripes we are healed.” I believe this included physical healing, but I don’t think it’s the focus of the context. (At the moment I’m reminded of the “Officer Crumpky” song from “West Side Story”) Anyway, everything else being equal, I try to avoid the use of physical coping mechanisms for healing, but when all else seems to be failing in that area, I will go there in a “New York minute.” It seems to me that physical healing has a greater tendency to require us to go someplace physical, and spiritual healing to a someplace spiritual.
It’s also important to remember that the healing promised in Isaiah 53 comes at a very high price—the stripes and death of God’s Son. (I think I may have posted my understanding of the purpose of the stripes some time back. You just have to know that God feels very strongly about this–so much so that He’s not pleased when we worship/value other places, systems, or coping mechanisms more than His ways.)
I would like to talk more often about this cost, and live in this cost as well. But in my experience it’s all very threatening to the spiritual and relational “coping mechanism practitioners.” Methods have become so highly valued in what’s calling itself church, that there’s little room for the Cross on the marquee. Again, in my opinion, that’s a problem. In God’s opinion, I should love—and I’ve been empowered to love—Baptists, Coping mechanism practitioners, and their groupies alike, even if I don’t care much for their opinions. I just have to watch that my opinion of their opinions doesn’t become a dumb idol.
What I’m saying is that God just may prefer to use what He calls church to get people saved, if only we’re willing to repent of what we’ve been calling church. (Still with me here?)
On that note, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of repentance going around yet, even in the “apostolic” or “prophetic restoration movement.” So God—gracious God that He is—occasionally sneaks into what’s calling itself “church,” and “saves” people. That’s very nice of God, but it can also be very confusing for us, because what’s been calling itself “church” has a very strong tendency to take that as some kind of validation. (There’s a lot of places we could go with this observation, but I’ll try to stay on task!)
As I understand it, the Cross was supposed to put an end to all that stuff.
The intimacy and relationship that God is after cost the life of His Son. The price for us is the same. When people don’t want to be intimate, that is symptomatic of a yeast infection. Meanwhile all the coping mechanism systems are offered to them at arms length, and with limited liability. That’s just not the way blood works! The blood of Christ is bad for business.
But, of course, that’s just my opinion. God’s opinion is the Cross: the answer for salvation and healing which can be seen from everywhere—if only we can stand on our tippy toes and peer over the skyline of man’s doing.
“When I was saved…” Aye! There’s the rub! Evangelicals and Liturgicals have grown so used to their “systematic salvation” methods, or to their own spin on “confessional salvation,” that far too often the result is spiritual retardation, birth control, or even abortion. At the point of spiritual fertility, perhaps even pregnancy, man is guilty of substituting a delusional salvation instead. Do we really think that’s the way God does life? It sounds like we’re back to the subject of dumb idols again.
This even goes as far as “theophostic healing.” What if instead of getting saved and raised in an orphanage, (i.e. “what’s calling itself church”) God had placed you in a family instead? (That’s in the Book, by the way) What would happen as a result? Well, when it’s working right—dying right, I should say—relationships wouldn’t be dysfunctional, hypocritical, or prostitutional. The life coming out of them would be functional, authentic, and based on real love.
Perhaps I just need to cut to the chase. We need to “get a life,” and that life is in God’s Son. Everything else is idolatry.
Love!
- By Jay Ferris, originally posted June 2012
Loving Like God 
Jay sure had a tender way of saying what needs to be said. I’ve wondered about those Baptists, too – but more the Presbyterians if I’m honest. The picture that emerges from Revelation 3:20 – they’re doing something religious behind those closed doors – but Jesus has been shut out. I do see a parallel between that and Lazarus in the tomb – wondering if some of those called to such ministry have in fact entered the tomb of religion where they preach to the dead. When one of them finally hears Jesus knocking and goes to the door, Jesus enters into him (Rev. 3:20) and they depart. I’ve heard ministers lament their inability to get their congregations up and moving – and complain that “every time Jesus gets hold of someone, they leave” … so theirs is a tomb / Rev 3:20 ministry – the sad thing is, they aren’t the ones responsible for saving anyone though it occurs right under their noses. It’s Jesus knocking that people need to hear, not the incessant blather of sermonizing.
I was also dumb struck by the imagery of Paul in Corinthians where he likens us to epistles (books) written by Christ on the tablets of our hearts. If we posit that everyone in the church is saved and they’re there for the weekly “assembly of the saints”, when the pastor stands there and delivers a sermon or a testimony if you will, he’s staring into the faces of countless books of Christ, but never, NEVER, bothers to open them and read from their pages. The pastor’s book is the only one that’s ever read – and often they get some of their material from denomination HQ as a franchisee – or curated randomly from the internet. It’s like taking your own book – always the same book – to the library to read – without ever exploring the tremendous repository of the tales of Christ that line the shelves (pews). In terms of the assembly, there is no greater affront to men and potentially to Christ, than to silence the sons habitually in deference to the milquetoast blather of the professionally religious.
As always, Jay presents a deep trough to walk through to understand (or try to) just what he is trying to say. I have read this through 3 times already, and will no doubt, read it again and again. The truth of God is so far above our understanding, that I despair of ever understanding it, but I am trying. Thank you for posting these special insights that Jay had.
I’m with you. I find this one of Jay’s more unusual than his others, but as usual, it’s intriguingly layered. Just a thought here. Is “truth” something that needs to be felt first, before it’s understood? We may not always understand Jesus’ parables, for example, but we feel moved by them. Even uncomfortable at times. It’s like we know his words have “life,” and sometimes that’s all we know.