"Good. Can’t you see that the trail you’re on doesn’t go where you’ve been told it goes? It will make you a good Christian in the eyes of others, but it will not let you know him." John didn’t seem to be walking any place in particular. Aimlessly we strolled past classrooms and occasionally a person rushing through the hallways. I was so engaged in our discussion that I hadn’t noticed the strange looks people gave us. I would pay for that later.
"So I can become an incredible Christian as far as everyone around me is concerned, and miss the real heart of it?"
"Isn’t that where you are? Look at this massive program here. Look at these buildings, the needs of the children, and the demands of the machinery. What does it need to exist?"
"Obviously it needs people and money and an aura of spirituality, I guess."
"And that’s what it rewards doesn’t it? How do you stay a member in good standing here?"
"Consistent attendance, giving and not living in obvious sin."
"All sins?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well I don’t know about this place, but mostly there are some sins that aren’t allowed at all—usually immorality or teaching something the leaders don’t like. Others aren’t even recognized, such as gossip, arrogance or guilt. Sometimes these are even rewarded, because we can use those to get people to act the way we want them to."
Even our sense of sin was selective. I could see it now. I knew people who could exploit the system for their own gain, even if it hurt others. I’d done it myself. We were playing a game of religion for our own sense of success.
"Isn’t it interesting how a group of people who get together regularly will eventually develop an esprit de corps, even down to how people dress, talk, what reactions they allow and what songs they like to sing. Isn’t it pretty clear here what being a good Christian is, and isn’t a big part of that not to make any waves or ask questions that make people uncomfortable?"
He got that right.
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