“My African American friends are marching. Not because they want to ‘defund the police’ or ‘burn it all down.’ But because they are tired. Tired of carrying a weight that no one seems to notice.” Phil Vischer
Listening exercises become more personal when the speaker is a family member. Phil Vischer is well known to the C&MA family. He attended Saint Paul Bible College, now Crown College, for three semesters, though he did not graduate. A rumor spread that Vischer had flunked out of school. He clarified what really happened on his 300th podcast, “I was invited not to return. I did not fail anything except chapel.”
Vischer is a co-creator of the animated video series VeggieTales, which has sold 65 million copies in the United States. My favorite part of the show is the silly song in the middle of the show. Just for fun, this week I googled “The Hairbrush Song” and found it on YouTube. So have 16,529,776 other people.
Vischer is the voice actor for Bob the Tomato and about half the characters in the show. Despite his fame and creativity, Vischer has endured major failure, as his website biography explains:
And then, at the peak of Phil’s success, everything turned upside down. Over-aggressive expansion coupled with a lawsuit from a former distributor forced Phil’s company, Big Idea Productions, into bankruptcy in 2003. Phil lost his company, his characters, his dream. What he didn’t lose, though, was his relationship with God. On the contrary, losing everything showed Phil that God was all he had ever needed in the first place. Rather than losing hope, Phil found himself with a ministry he never expected – a ministry to anyone who has lost a dream. Phil detailed the dramatic rise and fall of his dream and the lessons learned in his book, Me, Myself & Bob.
Eventually the lawsuit verdict was overturned and Vischer regained control of his VeggieTales characters again, but the damage had been done. Big Idea Productions was already bankrupt. With a heart broken by personal failure, Vischer developed a vulnerable voice on the gospel and social issues. I can think of nobody else who matches Vischer’s rare combination of humor and humility. Skye Jethani, Phil’s co-host on the weekly Holy Post podcast (and a former C&MA pastor), is a perfect straight man to sharpen Phil’s comedy into powerful teaching points. I’ve never met Phil Vischer, but he feels like a friend, just like Bob the Tomato.
Acting on a whim in mid-June, Vischer pieced together a video talk about race in America. He hesitantly posted it on his ministry site and on YouTube. It already has been viewed over 6 million times. I was shocked by Vischer’s video, not because it’s controversial, but because it contained so much information I had never heard before. Another viewer commented, “This is the most succinct, yet thorough explanation of policy-driven racial disparity I’ve ever come across.” In subsequent podcasts, Vischer and Jethani have deconstructed how this bold project unfolded and the aftermath.
You will need about 18 fast-paced minutes of your time, as well as an open mind and a teachable spirit, to actively listen to Phil Vischer’s video entitled “Let’s Talk About Race in America.” Let’s get started. Here’s the link:
All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:18-21)
Some of the best moments in our church’s new virtual worship experience come from personal sharing and exploratory questions. Last Sunday one of our members wondered whether the COVID-19 pandemic could possibly be a judgment for sin. He prefaced the hypothesis with humility and repentance for his own sin, not judgment toward others. Is it possible, he mused, that God is “ticked off” because of a certain sin? And he named the sin.
It’s a question which deserves a clear answer, especially because of the manner in the way it was expressed. I’ve been thinking about this ever since, constantly praying day and night for wisdom to respond if the question ever comes my way again. The next day someone else raised the same question in an unrelated telephone conversation. That intensified my desire to articulate a good answer.
I decided to look online to see what others are saying about this question. It turns out people have a lot to say about the coronavirus pandemic as a judgment from God. Unfortunately, much of it isn’t worth reading. What I found ranged from serious to shallow, from silly to sickening. Some of it was interesting. There were comprehensive essays on biblical pestilence and divine judgments, especially in the Old Testament. I read that the coronavirus pandemic is divinely related to, or a form of God’s judgment against: Jews, those who oppose Jews, homosexuality, environmentalism, climate change, abortion, financial debt and deception by the Chinese government. Oh, there’s one more. Someone concluded the pandemic is God’s judgment against the church. A couple atheists really enjoyed that one!
One website claimed God is “ticked off” about a particular sin under their magnifying glass. I wonder, how do they identify which sin ticks him off more than all other sins? If we’re looking for God in the coronavirus, the list from my internet search isn’t very helpful. Despite Google and Facebook’s efforts to police the internet, misinformation still abounds.
Fortunately, God is not the author of confusion. Despite the online melee, the Apostle Paul provides a clear answer. Is God ticked off because of any or all the sins listed online? Is God responding to humanity’s besetting sins with anger and vengeance through COVID-19?
The Apostle Paul’s answer is a clear and unambiguous “No!” God isn’t ticked off at anybody. The heart of the Gospel is that God poured out his wrath – all of it – upon Jesus at the cross. Christ became sin for us on the cross and darkness fell on Jesus at noon so his light could penetrate our hearts in the midnight of our sin and we could become the righteousness of God. The Apostle Paul’s message to the world is one of reconciliation, not wrath. While we were yet sinners, God could have judged us. Instead he loved us (cf. Romans 5:8). God judged himself instead of judging us. How could he be ticked off?
The Apostle John applied this to everyone, not just Christians. “He [Jesus] is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours, but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2:2) If God were even slightly irritated at anyone, Jesus’ sacrificial death would be insufficient for full atonement. But the Scriptures are firm that God is fully satisfied with Christ’s death. The term for that is “propitiation.”
The Apostle Peter agrees: “He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.” (1 Peter 2:24) A little later, he added, “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God.” (1 Peter 3:18) Peter doesn’t describe a God who is ticked off at the world. Not at all!
Jesus affirmed this, too. When the Savior was informed about the Roman government’s murderous cruelty against some Jewish citizens, he challenged his hearers with a question: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way?” (Luke 13:1-2) He added a second challenge about eighteen men who died when a tower collapsed on them. Were these tragedies signs of God’s judgment because those men were worse sinners than others? Was God selecting them for special judgment? Jesus’ answer was clear and emphatic. Absolutely not! Neither human nor natural disasters are signs of God’s judgment. Rather, they are a warning that the world is fallen, providing an opportunity for us to repent of our sins. In other words, God is not ticked off. Rather, he calls us to come to him in repentance and faith.
The Savior put shoe leather to that conversation when he approached Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. He could have been ticked off by the fickle and wayward crowds, but he wasn’t. Instead of responding in anger, Jesus wept in sorrow for the city. God’s posture toward humanity is weeping in sorrow for the world’s suffering, not getting ticked off. One key emotion profoundly absent in Jesus’ demeanor as he submitted to his suffering is anger. Jesus was not angry in the least as he died in our place on the cross. Think about it. The crucifixion of Jesus is the greatest injustice in history, the greatest sin of all. It’s far worse than any sin on any list today. But Jesus was not ticked off. Instead, Jesus prayed forgiveness for who killed him, even as God’s judgment was poured out on him.
I’m a recovering legalist. I’m not out of the woods yet. Perfectionism still dogs me. My life story is littered with anger. (All legalists have an anger problem.) If you don’t believe me, just ask my wife or my sons. I can spot faults a mile away. Sarcasm is second nature to me. On many occasions I should have dispensed grace and forgiveness to myself and others, but instead I kept score of shortcomings and demanded judgment. Sometimes it has taken root only in my mind or my facial expression. Other times my anger has exploded in word and deed. I know what it is to be angry. I’ve been ticked off thousands of times. But I can’t think of one occasion in my life when it was a reflection of my heavenly father.
There’s a portrait burned onto my mind of a God who is angry at the world because of sin. My sin. Your sin. Everybody’s sin. In my legalism, I look for God’s judgment in plagues like AIDS or the coronavirus. I’m not alone. Legalism is everywhere. If you want to observe legalism in action, just be alert for angry people who highlight specific sins (usually not their own) which demand extreme judgment. You don’t even have to look for legalists. They’ll probably find you. It won’t be a pleasant encounter.
Legalism casts a distorted image of God. The further I crawl away from my legalism, the more I can discern how the COVID-19 pandemic is not a case of sinners in the hands of an angry God. Jesus, Peter, John and Paul all argue against it. Instead of being ticked off, God is weeping over the world, longing, even pleading, for us to return to him. As long as the Spirit of God resides on the earth through the church, our message to the nations as Christ’s ambassadors is reconciliation through Jesus. A ticked-off God does not lead us to reconciliation. Only grace can do that. Grace erases God’s anger, all of it.
Whenever we see anger and vengeance vented online, we can know we’re not feeding on grace. Even so-called “righteous anger” is often self-righteous legalism wrapped in a veneer of piety. If righteous anger includes being ticked off, it’s not genuine righteous anger. How do we know that? Because God, who is perfectly righteous, is not ticked off by my sin, your sin, or the world’s sin. God’s righteous anger weeps and seeks reconciliation for the world. Righteous anger absorbs the biggest offenses and returns only love. That’s what happened on the cross.
The next time a friend or a family member asks you if COVID-19 is a sign that God is ticked off about a particular sin (or sins in general), please show them Paul’s words that “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.” Then implore them to be reconciled to God through Christ, not because the pandemic is a sign God is angry with them, but because it isn’t.
If you’re interested in hearing more about what God is doing in these difficult days of coronavirus, check out the link below.
“When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land. (2 Chronicles 7:13-14)
This Sunday at New Life Church’s virtual worship, we will offer a prayer composed by Daniel in about 539-538 B.C. after 67 years as a captive in Babylon. It’s found in Daniel chapter 9. This prayer places us in a posture of humility and repentance, which is an appropriate response for the church in the age of COVID-19.
A couple days ago, a friend from church alerted my wife to a video sermon preached by Louie Giglio to an empty auditorium this past Sunday in Atlanta, Georgia. Passion City Church has posted the message online. It’s well worth hearing (and seeing). The link is below.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 18:1-4
Today would have been Ann Jennings’ sixtieth birthday. Ann was my wife’s younger sister. She died a week before Christmas. Her memorial service was last week in Norwalk, Ohio. The public gathering was very small, as she was not well known in the community. Ann was deprived of oxygen at birth due to a complication, resulting in severe brain damage. She could not read. She could not count. She could not write her own name, though not for lack of trying. Her family worked hard to give her the best education possible.
If I had just one word to describe Ann, it would be childlike. Ann was inquisitive and often asked questions. She loved all things Mickey Mouse. She wore a Mickey Mouse watch for decades (several, actually), even though she could not tell time. She was trusting, dependent, and vulnerable.
It turns out that child-likeness is one of the highest virtues of Scripture. Jesus’ disciples didn’t have it, even though it’s essential. Jesus said they couldn’t enter heaven without it. They would have to change first. One of the traits of child-likeness is humility, taking a low position. That didn’t describe Jesus’ disciples. They weren’t childlike, not until they changed. But that did describe Ann. She took a lowly position her whole life, holding babies in a church nursery, wiping tables at a restaurant, or putting handles on ice cream buckets at the workshop. She did her menial work with pride and joy.
Such humility reminds me that Jesus was talking about child-likeness, not childishness. A childish person is demanding, self-centered, and disrespectful. Ann was childlike, not childish. Oh, she did have many childish moments. We all do. That’s one reason Jesus came and died for us, to relieve us of that burden.
The disciples didn’t have a clue about child-likeness. They would become the pillars of God’s church, but they didn’t understand much about character. Very few pillars of the church today understand child-likeness, either. We don’t like lowly positions. We prefer promotions and sophistication. We want to advance in this world rather than in the kingdom of God.
Ann Jennings advanced in the kingdom of God rather than in this world. She was childlike, a trait we don’t value much. But Jesus did value it. We devalue Ann’s life at our peril. We diminish Ann’s menial service to our loss. We discard Ann’s disabilities to our folly. Ann was a model of childlike faith. According to Jesus, that’s a virtue we need.
Prairie Pastor 