True faith in Jesus Christ shouldn’t be confused with religion–we all know the clichés. In fact, I believe much of the trouble with reaching the lost in so-called “Christian cultures” has to do with the fact that faithless religion can inoculate souls against the power of the Gospel.
In America especially, however, we love the idea of a public shared faith. We want our political and civic leaders to at least call themselves religious, to give a “shout-out” to God at public gatherings. We’d be happy to have prayer back in the public schools, even if it’s not required to be to the God of the Bible. The assumption behind this is that acknowledgment of the supernatural will help keep our darker natures in check and raise the level of collective morality in our communities and public affairs.
It’s only natural for Christians to bristle at the vilification of belief in God in society, but too often, the civic religion of the public square for which we settle conflates belief in any range of deities with general values and ethics, and the resulting mush is something that no one could love, but that few could be offended by. Such “religion” is hardly an asset to the Gospel. Or is it?
Sure, a civic religion that sees it as good citizenship to be a part of a church can promote apostasy in churches desiring to lure influential businessmen and politicians in attendance. But it could also drive “upwardly mobile” members of the community into a place where they will encounter the saving grace of Jesus Christ through a clear presentation of the Gospel for the first time.
A civic religion that places peer pressure on business owners to donate to local charities, churches, and outreach events (whether or not they do so from a heart longing for the salvation of the lost) could make light of the Church’s calling to make disciples. But it could provide needed funds to vibrant ministries that would otherwise languish.
A civic religion that sees Protestants, Catholics, and concerned nonbelievers come together to fight abortion certainly could muddy the theological waters and damage the witness of the exclusive Gospel in the community. But it could also foster the development of crisis pregnancy centers and adoption agencies that will faithfully proclaim Christ as they seek to love the downtrodden and prevent them from turning one sinful choice into a far greater one.
A civic religion that brings 1,500 community leaders into a room for a prayer breakfast (as we have here in Chattanooga each year) could be simply an opportunity for glad-handing and networking with like-minded citizens. But it could provide a legitimate opportunity to call local churches to remember that “entreaties and prayers, petitions and thanksgivings be made on behalf of all men, for kings and all who are in authority, so that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity” (1 Tim. 2:1-2). It could also provide a platform to offer a clear Gospel call to each of those in attendance.
Clearly, civic religion should not be goal of the Church. Clearly, it could damage the Church and diminish the light of Christ in our culture. Clearly, our focus should be on faithfully proclaiming salvation through faith alone, by grace alone, through Christ alone, as taught by Scripture alone, to the glory of God alone. But let us be careful before we throw all such public “faith” under the bus. It can be (and has been) used greatly by God as a framework that opens doors to the introduction of the true Gospel into the hearts of many.
Posted by Justin Lonas