A Few Good Souls

For we are not peddlers of God's word like so many;

but in Christ we speak as persons of sincerity,

as persons sent from God and standing in his presence. (2 Corinthians 2:17)

Jesus is big business.

Praise and worship songs show up at the top of music sales lists. Books about being left behind or purpose driven sell by the hundreds of thousands. Type “Jesus for Sale” in the Internet browser and the first thing up is a Jesus product: cute little Jesus-shaped coin banks with an insert slot in His head. Underneath: “Jesus Saves.” The second Internet site shows a sign outside the Holy Ghost Deliverance Church; beneath it another sign said “For Sale by Owner.” Jesus is selling one of his churches? The third Internet listing is the best: a “Bobbing Head Jesus” available on E-Bay. Prop him on the back of your car so every driver behind can see Jesus nodding. Place it next to your OU or OSU bobbing head mascot! A mobile altar! Honk at a “Honk If You Love Jesus” bumper sticker, and while you do, Jesus’ head bobs approval.

American consumers want their Jesus on their own consumer terms. He should forgive us much but ask us little. He gives up his life for us, of course; but we limit our time with him. Churches are smorgasbords to meet every need but require no commitment. Twentieth century German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer called it “cheap grace”: grace freely handed to a greedy, narcissistic people who accept it as a sort of divine entitlement.

The United States has long been one of the world’s most religious nations. What’s new is the environment of our religious practice. In a flourishing consumer culture, we behold an array of bewildering choices in the shopping mall of faith. In fact, a few years ago a book by that title began to help me understand our consumer religion phenomenon: Shopping for Faith: American Religion in the New Millennium by Richard P. Cimino and Don Lattin.

In the end, it’s about us: religion to satisfy us, help us, make us feel good, take care of us, meet our every need.

Once there were three military recruiters—Army, Navy, and Marines—who went to a high school to speak to the senior class. Combined, they had 15 minutes to give their pitches. The Navy rep took seven minutes and the Army man took seven. The Marine recruiter had one minute to speak. He said: “I doubt whether there are two or three of you in this room who could ever cut it in the Marine Corp; but I want to see those two or three immediately in the dining hall when we are dismissed.” Immediately following the school assembly, the Marine recruiter was mobbed. In essence, he said, “This is meaningful and tough; it’s not easy, but it’s important and critical.” It’s the same with our faith. It costs something. Faith is commitment, a challenge, an enterprise that means you and your needs sometimes take back seat to something more important.

More important than shopping.