I used to be a mess. I mean… I’m still a mess, but I used to be, too. (R.I.P Mitch Hedberg)
Every day, I have to work on changing and overcoming habits I developed in old ways of thinking. I have to work to unlearn things and paradigms that no longer serve me well. Looking back, they never served me well. But it took a whole change in perspective for me to see that.
The person I was in yesteryear is rarely equipped to be the best neighbor, father, husband, or pastor today. The mess I found myself in made a mess out of me. And I paid a steep price for it. If I’m being honest, sometimes it feels like I’m still paying the price for it.
Is God punishing me? Or is this the natural outworking of the mess(es) I found myself in?
“God don’t need to punish us for sin. Sin punishes us itself. That’s why God saves us from sin.”
I sent that post out on a few social media platforms. Like most of the stuff I post, the vast majority of the responses ranged from passively appreciative to actively thankful. And, like most of the stuff I post, it’s always the very loud disagreements that stick out to me.
Normally, I can anticipate when a particular statement is gonna cause some blowback—and typically I can even tell where that blowback is going to come from.
But this was one of those situations where I failed to forecast correctly.
I didn’t realize how many professing Christians would have a problem with the idea that sin carries its own punishment.
And the implications of this are pretty huge. If sin doesn’t carry its own punishment, then Jesus didn’t actually come to save us from sin. Jesus came to save us from God.
And, in the words of the crooning prophet Frank Ocean, that’s a bad religion.
Should we worship a God we need saving from?
Can we ever know true love if we spend our lives trying to love a God whose fundamental posture toward us is wrath?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not claiming that God doesn’t have anything to be angry about. I think God’s wrath is directed at sin. And I think sin is each and every barrier to wholeness. And I think that those barriers to wholeness punish us. They prevent us from experiencing the fullness of life as God intended. These barriers obscure our vision, distorting the image of a God whose posture toward creation is one of superabundance and self-emptying. I think those barriers infuriate God. Which is why God saves us from those barriers.
But if those barriers don’t carry deleterious effects themselves—destructive enough to spur God into action on our behalf… then what are we doing here?
How much of the stories we tell about God are reflective of an emotionally battered people pursuing a god who plainly does not like them? A god who wants to punish them? A god who is about to extract vengeance against us?
Yes—love requires discipline.
If I see my child running into the street, I might shout their name. If they do not respond, I might run and tackle them to the ground to keep them out of the street. I will give them firm lectures about the dangers of running into the street, because running into the street is dangerous for everyone. I will speak to them about running into the street because I love them, and because I love the other people who use the street as they are intended to be used—people whose lives could be upended by what might happen if children keep running into streets they are not supposed to run into.
That is correction. It is part of what a shepherd would us a rod for. Not to beat a sheep out of anger and frustration, but to place a hard barrier between the sheep and a path they should not travel. The rod of correction is not for punishing sheep. It is for guiding sheep in the right direction and for fending off threats to the flock.
Could a god whose identity is found in punishing those he created—for the sake of “justice” no less—actually be revealed in one who calls himself “the Good Shepherd”?
Or have we settled for bad religion in order to justify our own tendency toward punishment where love would lead us to gentle correction and restorative action instead—even if punishment were actually easier and required less of us?
Was the psalmist onto something when he declared that the Lᴏʀᴅ was his shepherd? Was Jesus onto something when he referred to himself as the Good Shepherd? Are we willing to actually follow the Son?
It would be a shame to spend the rest of our lives cowering in front of a god looking for someone to punish—until we’ve found someone to take the licks in our place. It would be a tragedy to then say that person was sent by God to take the licks from God, instead of taking the licks from the sin we’ve wed ourselves to.
I’ve decided I don’t need saving from God. It’s the messiness of the world around me I need saving from. And I think I agree with God in saying that.