Why Are Some Of The Meanest People Devoted Christians?

Mike Leake

Senior beautiful woman wearing casual t-shirt standing over isolated pink background pointing displeased and frustrated to the camera, angry and furious with youI finally have a bit of an answer (at least for now) to one of the questions that has stuck in my craw for well over a decade. Why have some of the most dedicated “Christians” been the ones who have done me the most harm?

Let me explain a little better. I’m not talking about a mere professor. I’m talking about those who read the Bible daily, faithfully attend church, do missions, engage in small groups, witness to others, etc., etc.

I understand how some of those can be smokescreens to hide deplorable behavior. The dude in Matthew 7 that Jesus “depart from me” seems to have been quite the missionary. Sadly, it doesn’t shock me if a pastor or other religious leader is a wretch behind closed doors. I’ve seen it far too many times. That’s an awful and harmful thing—but it’s not what has perplexed me.

I’m talking about the person who faithfully engages in spiritual disciplines—those things that are supposed to form you in the way of Jesus. How can someone claim to be a believer in Jesus, speak forth true doctrine, read the Word daily, pray daily, and be some of the most angry, hurtful, narrow-minded, and wicked people you ever come across?

You see, I don’t believe these people to necessarily be insincere. When they say they love Jesus—there is certainly something or Someone that they love that has at least some semblance of the God I see in the Bible. How are they still so awful? Are the spiritual disciplines simply not working? Is the whole thing a sham? Is Jesus powerless to save and change people?

Deformed

This is where the words of John Mark Comer, in Practicing the Way, have proven helpful. Comer says,

If a person’s vision of God is distorted—if they view him as harsh, demeaning, or chronically angry…or as liberal, laissez-faire, and simply there to champion their sexual pleasure—the more religious they become, the worse they become. Because we become like who we believe God is. (John Mark Comer, Practicing the Way, 104)

There it is. That’s why. Or rather how.

As I think about the way these people have talked about God, almost without fail they believe God to be something like an angry taskmaster. Their anger and hurt towards me is only a reflection of their distortion of the living God. Their God is harsh and demeaning. Therefore, the more Bible study they do—the more they will become harsh and demeaning. Their religious practices are forming them into a distortion rather than reality.

Help From 1 John

Notice carefully what I’m not saying. I’m not making a judgment on whether or not they are legitimately saved. That’s not my call. And the painful reality is that I could just as easily have described myself.

I too have distortions of the living God. And I too am not properly formed into the image of Christ in the areas where this is true. That means there are people that I hurt with my sin. My sin towards another person might be just as much of a barrier to faith for someone else.

I hate this.

I had a sermon illustration last week involving an onion and a lamp. In 1 John 1:7 there is a present tense verb that alludes to a continual cleansing that Jesus does in our life. That cleansing happens when we “walk in the light”.

I don’t think in 1 John the “light” is only a reference to morality. I think it’s even more about the self-revealing nature of God. To walk in the light, then, for a sinner is to be honest about who we are—warts and all.

I took an onion and wrote some words on the outside. Those outward sins that we tend to struggle with. When they are brought into the light, Jesus exposes them. We experience conviction and then we fly to Jesus for cleansing.

But what happens under the light is that the Spirit also begins to peel back layers. The outer layer might be something like “yell at people in traffic”. But as God continues to work—the questions get more difficult. Transformation isn’t simply about stopping road rage. It’s about getting to the core of the ways we have distorted the image of God. Why do you get angry in traffic?

Now we’ve got another layer exposed. And the Spirit keeps doing this hard work. In each step of this we carry with us distortions of God. And some gods don’t die so easily.

This is why someone can be very sincere in something like evangelism, reading Scripture, praying the sweetest prayers, and then turn around and throat punch you “for the glory of God”. Some parts have been brought under the light and those layers have been peeled and cleansed. But in some areas—they haven’t. And those are the ones that hurt.

Conclusion

All this to say, none of our stories has been completed. Even at death (in a sense). They haven’t yet had Jesus’ final and ultimately transformative word spoken over them.

This helps me to understand some of the hurt. It allows me to celebrate the redemption that I see in my life, and the life of others. But it also allows me to truly grieve and acknowledge the hurt that comes when we encounter distortions of God in the hands of another, as well as in our own life.

By God’s grace I’ll probably fill out some of these thoughts a bit more. But for now, it’s been healing to think through this.

Deadly Familiarity

Mike Leake


If you read the gospel of Mark in one sitting you’d be shocked by what happens at the beginning of Mark 6.

Think of all that Jesus has accomplished up to this point. He has really become quite the celebrity. Crowds are following him everywhere. He is healing the sick, preaching to packed crowds, and doing things which have never been done before. He’s calmed a storm, raised the dead, and even touched a leper. He cast out demons by the word of His mouth and healed a bleeding woman that nobody else could fix. He’s done so many marvelous things that everyone is beginning to wonder, “Who is this guy?”

Is this the Rescuer? Is this the Promised One? Is this the One who is going to deliver Israel? The carpenter from Nazareth has become a big deal. Mary’s little boy has hit it big. And so when Jesus comes back to his hometown what type of reception do you figure he’ll get? Are the people from Nazareth putting up signs and billboards that says, “Home of Jesus”? Will they throw a grand parade to celebrate the fact that such a backwater place like Nazareth is now associated with this popular religious teacher? How will they respond to the local boy coming home?

It’s shocking what we read in Mark 6:1-6. Jesus doesn’t get a celebration, he gets a snub. As Jesus marvels at their unbelief, we the readers are invited to marvel as well. Why would Jesus’ hometown give him such a cold welcome?

The Law of Diminishing Return

I think it’s because of the law of diminishing return.

When you ride a roller coaster for the first time you wonder how you survived. But ride that same one for the 35th time and you’ll think it’s about as exciting as driving through Kansas. What was once feared and inspired awe is no “old hat”. You’ve been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

It’s the old saying familiarity breeds contempt. It’s a terrible thing when it happens in our personal relationships—but how much more when it happens in our relationship with the Lord. I think Peter Kroft has some great words to say about familiarity as it relates to our reading of the Scriptures and also to our relationship with the Lord. Listen:

Beware the deceptive wiles of familiarity — that sweet but double-edged virtue that makes you feel at home in the word of God. Familiarity of the tender variety persists in reminding you of the gospel and deepening your communion with Christ. But if you’re not careful, cold-hearted familiarity will betray you with kisses, poison your wineglass, and watch impassively while your life slips steadily away. You might not even realize it’s happening.

Unexamined familiarity will prevent you from looking at the Book. Because such familiarity crowds out curiosity, it imperceptibly stiffens necks, hardens hearts, and deafens ears. Familiarity may lead us to assume things that are not in the text, and it may blind us to things that are. (source)

Familiarity in Nazareth

As we are confronted with the familiarity of those in Nazareth, Mark 6:1-6 gives us two things to watch out for in our own life.

Their first issue was that they assumed they had exhausted the story of Jesus. They had created a nice little box for Jesus to fit into, and they wouldn’t let him out. He’s the carpenter. He’s the son of Mary. I remember this kid from 6th grade science class. No way could he be a prophet…much less the Messiah.

Have we really grown much in 2,000 years? I think Jared Wilson is correct when he says,

…no man is probably more misunderstood than Jesus. The great irony is that, despite being the most discussed and confessed figure in all of history, no historical figure has been marginalized and commoditized than Jesus. For many today he is a generic brand, a logo, a catchphrase, a pick me up…He’s been romanticized by countless admirers, and sanitized by the Christian consumer culture. (Jared Wilson, Your Jesus Is Too Safe, 12-13)

The first path to a cold-hearted familiarity with Jesus is to craft him into your own image, make him fit a label, and then convince yourself that you’ve somehow exhausted His story.

The second path is to let the humanity of Christ mute the deity of Christ. It’s certainly possible to fall off on the other side of this horse too—where we believe Jesus to be only human. At certain points in history that was the struggle. Today, we might struggle more with beholding Jesus as God.

In Mark 6:3 they say, “Is this not the carpenter…” That phrase is not meant to be derogatory. It’s not as if they are saying, “this fella is just a mere peasant, he’s a day laborer, no way he can be the King of kings and Lord of lords”. They’ll make this point later, but here what they are saying is, “This guy is no different than us”.

One of the great truths of the gospel is that God became man. God became one of us. But that’s not all to the story. He is also wholly other. If we lose sight of this truth then we’ll turn Jesus into whatever shape we need him to be.

The Fruit of Familiarity

Mark 6 tells us that Jesus could “do no miracle there”. It’s not that He is like Tinkerbell and needs them to believe in Him before He can fly. No. It’s more that Jesus is about the heart—He’s not a traveling healer or magician. His fundamental mission is to call people to repent and believe the good news. If that’s not on the table, then He won’t do a great work there.

And that’s the fruit of cold-hearted familiarity. We miss out on Jesus. Or worse yet we deify our mirrors. “Jesus” starts to take the shape of us—rather than the other way around. That face is familiar but it’s powerless. We’re not awesome and big enough to capture our own hearts. When you craft a Jesus that looks just like you—don’t be surprised when you get bored.

About Those “Middle Spaces”

Mike Leake

rodion-kutsaiev-IJ25m7fXqtk-unsplashHow’d they get here?

2014: This has been an incredibly difficult year. We have lost so many things. We grieve, but thankfully our church family has been right there with us.

2016: I feel so alone. We still carry the scars from loss. Less and less people seem to want to carry this burden with us. Yet we remain grounded in the truth of the gospel!

2017: Do people even believe this stuff? It feels so performative. Do I even believe this stuff? Yeah, I do. Lord, hold my heart. Lead us into truth.

2019: I’ve been rethinking some things. I once strongly held this belief, everyone in our church holds this belief, it seems to be what the Scripture teaches, but our new friends come from an entirely different perspective. They have some good points. I’m wrestling with what they said. Does Scripture teach what I’ve believed so strongly for so long? I wonder if there is a middle space between our two positions.

2020: Well, we talked with our church leaders. We asked them some of those questions that have been keeping us up at night. They responded with anger and threats about excommunication. We were just asking questions, but they warned us that even entertaining these thoughts was the road to abandoning the biblical gospel.

2021: I can’t get all these questions out of my head. My spouse says we should listen to our leaders, but I feel so hollow inside. I’m not sure what I believe anymore. I’m more convinced that the truth is somewhere in the middle.

2022: We’ve lost our church family. Why couldn’t I let those questions go? I’m still not sure what I believe—I just know what I don’t believe. Thankfully,we’ve been embraced by our new community of faith. We’re grateful for those friends God placed in our life three years ago.

2023: I can’t believe I once held those rigid views of the past. I’m all in! This community has embraced me. My old church thinks I’m a heretic, but I’ve never felt so free.

How Do You Assess The Story?

My choice of being vague on the particular belief held or discarded is intentional. This isn’t meant to be a discussion about which beliefs can be held and which abandoned. Rather this is a discussion about those middle spaces, and how we assess a story like this. What do you do with that diary entry from 2019?

Some will read this story and say that the question asking is exactly where things began going off the rails. The “middle space” wasn’t authentic, they’ll say. Those seeds of doubt and error were put into their heart, they entertained those thoughts and ended up where they were always going—into apostasy.

I’d like to explore a different story. What if that middle space is a very real place? What if situations, relationships, conversations, experiences, their own reading of Scripture (whether rightly or wrongly), and a host of other things leads someone into a place where they are authentically doubting a long held belief?

Why We Don’t Like “Middle Spaces” 

We don’t like that middle space. We’re trained to run away from doubt and unruly emotions rather than engage them. I’ll admit that I have a level of empathy with those church leaders who shouted instead of listened. Yes, it comes from a desire to control. But that usually comes from a place of fear and concern. What Os Guinness has said is often true in these situations:

Instead of hearing what the other person is saying, we will hear only our own reaction to what the other person is saying, perhaps unaware of how much our own framework, our own point of view, has silences the other person’s meaning. (Guinness, In Two Minds, 194)

We grab pitchforks and torches when someone from within our tribe begins to ask questions. Questions are dangerous, it threatens the security of the tribe. Our brains are wired to reward conformity. So, we burn down those middle spaces because they make everyone uncomfortable.

But rarely do we see people run towards pitchforks and torches. Even if they outwardly conform, inwardly those questions are still raging. Doubt and unruly emotions must be engaged. If they aren’t engaged you’ll either see the person fall into a hollow acceptance or a passionate “escape” into the waiting arms of the “other side”.

Usually pitchforks and torches make someone leave loudly. This is, in some sense, the best case scenario for the tribe. When the other person embraces the “other side” we can pat ourselves on the back for having outed a closet heretic. We can congratulate ourselves on burning down that tragic middle space. And we’ll all get a little boost of oxytocin as we tighten our bonds and build a bigger wall.

Don’t misunderstand. Some people do leave. Some do abandon the faith and they do so because of wicked intentions. Such were Hymenaeus and Alexander (1 Timothy 1:19-20). There are lines which must have been drawn. There is such a thing as being outside the faith.

Is This Biblical?

Yet, I have to wonder if our tendency to engage the middle space as if it’s already “outside the bounds” is the way in which we see the middle space engaged in the Scriptures. Do we see people grabbing torches and pitchforks when people begin to question?

Most of the letters in the New Testament are written because of that “middle space”. It could even be argued that the gospel of John is written out of a similar concern. In most instances the church receiving the letter has been entertaining false teaching, vacillating between belief and doubt.

Paul certainly isn’t afraid of using strong language. But it’s in the context of relationship and applying the balm of the gospel. Consider what he says to young Timothy:

24 And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, 25 correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, 26 and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will.

I would have you note that this is the strategy for those who “oppose you”. How much more those who aren’t in opposition but rather in that middle space? I’ve also written on this strategy as it relates to the father in the story of the prodigal son. There I noted that, the father “wanted his love to be the last thing the prodigal remembered as he walked out the door and into the far country.” (See here)

Conclusion

This is entirely anecdotal, but my experience is that when we take this “middle space” seriously and decide to love people while they are in that spot, give them time to process and work through beliefs, while providing a safe context for asking questions, often they’ll happily return. We can confidently entrust people to the work of the Spirit. Yes, sometimes people leave—but even when they do it’s different. And a door is open for the prodigal to return.

Belief is holistic. When we embrace that, we’ll engage those middle spaces differently.

—

I realize that I’m using “middle space” a bit differently than it is typically used. For some, the middle space is actually the place of truth and where one must camp. I’m using it more as a place in between two poles, a temporary place of refuge before you either travel on to the other village—or go back home.

Photo source: here

Proverbs For Today (Volume 1) Now Available

Mike Leake

31iI9wwGk3LWe live in a world that is oversaturated with knowledge but woefully lacking in wisdom. The Book of Proverbs is all about helping us goobers learn how to live wisely—to live as God created the world—instead of living like fools.

For a few years now I’ve tried to read a chapter of Proverbs every day. There are 31 chapters in Proverbs and no more than 31 days per month. I find every day that there is something in each proverb where God imparts wisdom to my soul. I want to share those reflections with you.

To that end, I began a new project called Proverbs4Today. The goal there is to provide a Christ-centered devotion, five days per week, that corresponds to whatever chapter of Proverbs we are on for that day.

Also, you should know that the phrase “Christ-centered” isn’t just a throw away term for me—I believe Proverbs is one of those books that is ripe for legalistic interpretation and application. Because of this I make an effort in each devotion to put to Christ as the fulfillment.

These daily devotions are housed at our Proverbs4Today substack. But we will also turn each of these into an eBook (and working on paperback). If you’re a paid subscriber, you’ll get these for free. Even if you don’t subscribe, this first volume is only $2.99.

Each volume will have 7-8 new, never before seen, devotions. So, even if you’re a subscriber (paid or free) you’re going to want these eBooks to have a devotion for each day of the month.

You can purchase Volume 1 today.

Subscribe here.