Earlier this year I decided that I would try to learn Hebrew. It was something that I thought would be fun and would be beneficial in my ministry. The problem was that I didn’t have any time available to learn Hebrew. I was hoping for an easy formula—a CD I could listen to in my sleep, a chart I could memorize, and then presto: I could ditch my New Living Translation and go straight to the original text. Maybe they would even ask me to take a look at the Dead Sea Scrolls to make sure there were no mistakes. It didn’t quite work out like that.
The truth is that we all love formulas. Just look at the bestseller section in any bookstore; you’ll find books like How to Win Friends and Influence People, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Four Simple Steps to becoming an Overnight Billionaire, and The Secret to Owning Your Own Tropical Island.
It is a part of our culture. We are America the Practical. Pragmatism isn’t just something we value; it is also America’s most important philosophical tradition. It worked well with the American spirit of individualism and free enterprise. Philosophers Charles Sanders Pierce, William James, and John Dewey taught us that the consequences of ideas are more concrete than the ideas themselves. That means the only criteria for truth is what works in practice, or, in other words, what works is true. By “working” pragmatists mean that which is useful and beneficial to individuals or to society.
Which explains why most of our culture is dealing only with the “how” questions of life: How do I get paid? How do I afford a nicer house? How do I get a better job? How do I get that girl to like me? But there are deeper questions that pragmatism does not answer: Is success measured only by money and power? Are the rich always happier than the poor? What if what works in the practical word doesn’t tell the whole truth? It is essential that we deal with the “why” questions rather than just the “how” questions because the “why” questions determine whether the “how” questions are even important.
You would think that one of the best places to come to deal with the “why” questions would be the church, but unfortunately that is not always the case. As Christians we can get just as caught up in the “how” questions as everyone else.
For most of my life the Christian answers have tended to be pragmatic—“how” answers. I would go to church wondering, “Why do I exist?” “What is the meaning of life?” and the church would respond, “Here’s how to have a great marriage.” Or, “Here are six steps on how to raise perfect children.”
These are not bad messages, but it is important for all of us to stop and ask the “why” questions from time to time. Why am I coming to church? Why do I give to missionaries? Why am I trying to serve Christ? Is it only because those things benefit me? Make me feel important or good? Give me status within my community?
For William James, a philosopher of pragmatism, belief in God is good not because it is a requirement from the nature of God, but because it benefits the believer—intellectually satisfying and so on. Prayer is a good thing, not because God is actually listening, but because of the soothing psychological effect on the person praying. In other words, God does not exist unless I find, by believing in Him, something that benefits me.
We often live as if Christianity is true—not because it is true, but because it “works” for us. We start treating God not as a Father, but as a product. We begin to believe that we have to sell Jesus to reach our culture. And the best way to sell Jesus is to make people believe that the product works. "If you come and believe like we do, your life will become shiny and happy and perfect."
Which seems to be a good formula. Until you come to a book like 1 Peter.
“God is pleased with you when you do what you know is right and patiently endure unfair treatment… if you suffer for doing good and endure it patiently, God is pleased with you.” 1 Peter 2:19, 20
This letter was written by Peter to the followers of Christ who had been scattered, due to persecution, all around Asia Minor. Notice that Peter doesn’t give advice on how to reduce stress, or make your problems go away, or give a five-point plan on managing your life. No he tells us to be submissive and to patiently endure suffering. Why? Because “Jesus is Lord!” and Jesus is like this. Peter says that we are to respect all human authority “for the Lord’s sake” (2:13). We should respect the king, not in hopes of getting something in return but because of our “fear and respect for God” (2:17).
As disciples we do these things because this is what the Kingdom of God looks like. But these words fly in the face of everything we value as Americans: free speech; the right to pursue happiness; the right to hot French fries; the right to yell at a customer service agent who is rude; the right to submit a grievance to HR when our manager holds us accountable for actually doing our job.
If we truly believed and lived this message we would be radically different from the world because the message of the Kingdom turns our world upside-down. It shows the world to be foreign, an odd place—where what makes sense to everybody else is revealed to be opposed to what God is doing among us. As citizens of heaven we are foreigners here on earth. We take our identity and our mission from another place. Peter is calling Christians to give up striving for power and authority over human beings and instead pursue the good of others.
So for our American minds, pre-programmed to find truth in what “works” this is pretty radical thinking. We’re not even sure that to “patiently endure unfair treatment” is a noble thing to do. We’ve got to fight for our right to party.
To be perfectly honest with you, Christianity is not easy to market. Jesus said, narrow is the path and few find it. But when it appears—when it breaks into our self-centered, consumer-driven, pragmatic world, even for just a moment—nothing is more beautiful.