Having Christianity Both Ways

As I left, walking under the glittering red sign at the 2008 Austin City Limits Festival, I could hear the bullhorn ahead of me. Figuring it was some hippy rattling on about local politics, I didn't really give it much thought. It wasn't until a few minutes later, as I moved along with my fiancé and younger brother through the sweaty mass of people exiting Zilker Park, that I realized who was talking so loudly.

They were Christians.

Immediately, I felt disgusted. There they stood, in the middle of the road, yelling at everyone who passed by them. With sandwich boards draped over them outlining the horrible Hell that awaits the unsaved, these people were actually screaming the gospel to anyone in sight.

It wasn't the message, of course, that bothered me so much. Obviously, a very large chunk of the people leaving ACL were likely unsaved. It was the way that message was being conveyed. What insulted me was that these people actually thought that yelling at the festival goers would somehow fill up the seats in churches everywhere. I find it seriously doubtful that anyone there was convicted to any conclusion other than that Christians were very angry people, bitter about the world around them. In the sounds from the megaphone, one message seemed blatant to the people forced to hear it: Christianity was irrelevant.

Today, there are few things as difficult for young Christians to get around than the notion that Christianity might be uncool. Nobody wants to be left out of the “in” thing, and even on this blog, I regularly highlight music and reference jokes that are a large part of our popular culture. The problem, though, isn't in enjoying popular music or laughing at popular jokes. This, to me, doesn't make a Christian “lukewarm” in God's sight. What does make us lukewarm, though, is when our desire to be accepted begins to erode the truth of our faith.

Of all the issues that present such a clear example of this desire to have Christianity both ways -- true and widely acceptable -- few are as instantly recognizable as the issue of abortion. Today, it is easy -- yes, easy -- to take stances on global famine, on genocide, on poverty and homelessness. These are important issues, to be sure, but they are relatively simple for a person to support. Nobody in the world is for global famine. Nobody supports poverty. No legitimate government is pro-genocide. Granted, there is a difference between outwardly protesting famine, genocide, and poverty and actually doing something about these issues. Nevertheless, there is not a public stigma against fighting these problems.

Abortion is completely different. When someone hears that you are pro-life, your first fear might be that you are now a sandwich-boarder or a megaphone-holder. If you are pro-life, you become fundamentalist in popular terms, and as we all know, taking that side of the issue would not be very cool. It would not be acceptable. As a Christian, I can do the smart thing and fight mass murder abroad, with full support from the people around me, and I will still feel like I'm doing something grand. Why would I bother with fighting abortion at home, right?

What we have done is drawn lines in the sand where they never needed to exist. We have allowed vitriolic politics and the fiery hatred of some to create fault lines among Christians. There is a professor at my university who is fond of the old cliché: if it quacks like a duck, has feathers and a bill, and loves the water, you should probably call it a duck. It is amazing to me that Christians have gotten into the business of classifying the issues before us in a hierarchy of acceptability. Abortion is murder. There, I said it. Sue me. Why do we have such a problem with saying that genocide is wrong, and well, abortions might be, too. Is our timidity on the subject of abortion any worse than the fire-and-brimstone screams of the festival protesters? Don't both stances give the unsaved a false impression of Christianity?

I'm aware that Paul was "all things to all men," but what does that mean exactly? Was he what all men wanted? Or was he what all men needed? These two things are mutually exclusive. People can want what they don't need and often need the difficult processes they don't want to experience. Those who are unsaved need neither angry, guilt-inducing lectures nor shy, easily diluted convictions. Our positions on issues should be filtered through one prism and one prism only: Jesus. How would He feel about the issue? How would He feel about how we argue it? What people need is an unwavering love, one that is courageous and certain. Neither of these attitudes -- the frightening or the permissive -- shows the love of Christ.

It would be a sad life for a Christian in America who allowed his politics to dictate his faith, rather than the other way around. The world needs God for many reasons and on many issues. I pray that we would not dilute the beautiful truth of God's message in an effort to be accepted, when it is up to God, and not us, to move hearts to Him. Something to think about when you watch this possibly -- but not justifiably -- controversial John Piper video: