Moralistic Therapeutic Deism? by Michael lippard

Luke 14:25-33 Michael Lippard


A recent study of faith and young people in the United States claims that a new religion is growing in American congregations. The study calls this alternative faith Moralistic Therapeutic Deism, or MTD. Two of MTD’s central beliefs are: “God wants people to be good, nice and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions,” and “The central goal of life is to be happy and feel good about yourself.” The principal investigators for the study say that MTD “may be the new mainstream American religious faith for our culturally post-Christian, individualistic, mass-consumer capitalist society.”

The warm words and soft textures of MTD are appealing, especially in an age when so much venom is spewed in the name of religion. Might MTD eventually delineate new theological boundaries for a less conflicted future, for a rose garden where all faith traditions can coexist peacefully?

Even among post-Christian Christians themselves, maybe not: there are times when Jesus stubbornly refuses to go along with such a program. In Luke 14:25-33, his words are disturbingly cold and sharp. Jesus has extremely high expectations of those who would be his disciples. He issues a caveat emptor, a “let the buyer beware” warning. Before you jump on my bandwagon, he says, you need to stop and count the cost: you may not be willing to pay the price. The only parts of a rose garden Jesus seems to offer here are the thorns!

To follow him, he says you must “hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes and even life itself.” So forget about getting along with other faith traditions when you can’t even get along with your family. There’s nothing nice here. Ouch! To follow Jesus, you must “carry the cross.” Ouch again. At least this doesn’t sound quite as unappealing as hating your family. Certainly carrying a cross is not as terrible as being crucified on one, but you know what happened to Jesus after he carried his. Finally, Jesus says that if you would follow him you must “give up all your possessions.” Ouch, ouch, ouch! That sounds not only unappealing, but impossible. Jesus may not have had many possessions, but he did wear clothes; presumably, they belonged to him. Most Christians seem to find it next to impossible to tithe, to give ten percent of their income to the work of the church, so I think it’s safe to assume that none of us will be giving up all our possessions - at least not until death rips them out of our clutches.

Yet even though there’s no way we can follow the program Jesus describes, more than likely, we consider ourselves to be Jesus’ followers. We follow as best we can, sometimes hesitantly and always imperfectly, because we trust Jesus. We also trust the witness of the gospels, the witness of our families and friends, and the witness of the church through history. We might prefer a rose garden religion of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism; but we know such a faith is not real, nor will it stand up to the tests of real life. So we have to wrestle with Jesus’ words, even when they make us uncomfortable. What is going on in this gospel of thorns? Jesus grew up as a good Jewish boy. He knew the Ten Commandments. One of them commands us to honor our father and mother. How can anybody honor their parents and hate them at the same time? That doesn’t make sense.

First of all, we need to recognize that the issue addressed is not family living, but discipleship. The text is not about hating anyone or anything. You may say you hate spinach, and I may say I love it, but we both probably realize that neither of us has feelings that are quite that strong about a green, leafy vegetable. We are exaggerating to make a point about our preference for a particular food. Luke is also exaggerating to make a point about the demands of discipleship.

Also, in the Bible, hate doesn’t always carry the sense of enmity, animosity and hostility that we associate with it. This is not a call to hatred in an emotional or “psychological sense... Those who become disciples of Jesus must be committed exclusively to Him; they cannot be bound to anyone or anything else. The term ‘hate’ demands the separation of the disciple...” Even so, this is small comfort. Again, Jesus is saying that the cost of following him is extremely high, and we would be wise to consider the cost before we sign on for his mission. The cost of being Christian is discipleship.

The word Christian shows up in the New Testament only three times. The word disciple appears two hundred and sixty-nine times, nearly ninety times as often. Have you ever heard anyone talk about going ninety to nothing? When people say that, it seems to mean they are really on the move, getting things done, busily and earnestly working toward a goal. A ratio of ninety to one is about the same. In the context of the New Testament as a whole and this text in Luke, it would mean that if you want to be a Christian, you need to invest your energy in being a disciple, in being a follower of Jesus. The whole point of being Christian is being a disciple, and that’s a full-time job.

Jesus has more hard words about hate. He says we cannot be his disciples without hating life itself. The word Luke chooses for life is not the Greek word zoe, from which we get our words zoo and zoology. Instead, Luke uses the word psuchae, from which we get words like psyche, psychiatry, psychology and psychotherapy. Psuchae means self, inner life, or soul. That makes Jesus’ words here even more difficult. He is talking about hating or separating from our inner life, our inner self, our soul. The inner life from which Jesus calls us to separate is the one which seeks to find happiness, peace and security in our possessions instead of in following him. Living in relationship with Jesus changes our way of relating to our possessions, and our way of relating to other people, too.

This is a point Dietrich Bonhoeffer makes in The Cost of Discipleship: “the call of Christ brings us as individuals face to face with the Mediator... Between father and son, husband and wife, the individual and the nation, stands Christ the Mediator, whether they are able to recognize him or not. We cannot establish direct contact outside ourselves except through him, through his word, and through our following him... There is no way from one person to another. However loving and sympathetic we try to be, however sound our psychology, however frank and open our behavior, we cannot penetrate the incognito of the other..., for there are no direct relationships, not even between soul and soul. Christ stands between us, and we can only get into touch with our neighbors through him.”

The host at a fancy children’s party walked over to a girl and said: “I believe your little brother is a bit shy. He hasn’t moved from that corner all afternoon.” The girl answered: “He isn’t shy at all. This is the first time he’s had to wear a tie to a party, and he thinks he’s tied to something.”

Luke confronts us with our attachments, with the things to which we think we are tied. Trying to fill our inner, spiritual poverty ourselves doesn’t work. Jesus calls us to accept our spiritual emptiness: that is the cross he wants us to carry. As we open our hands and hearts to his love and grace, we ourselves are released, freed from our desperate clutching for affection and esteem, for safety and security, for power and control. We discover the presence of Christ supporting us. Our weakness gives way to his strength. Without him, we have nothing; with him, we have everything. This is the source from which our inner life - our soul - is nurtured and refreshed. All good things come back to us transformed - family and life itself - through the mediation of the Christ.