Why False Miracles?

As you know, I've been following the Todd Bentley fiasco and attempting to reconcile the fact that people may be healed and miracles may happen in his services. How can he be a false prophet, if there is positive fruit in his ministry?

One explanation is that God is endlessly compassionate and responds to the sincere faith of His children, even when they are receiving ministry from someone on whom God’s calling and gifting no longer rest, because they have disqualified themselves through immorality or false doctrine.

But I think there's a better explanation for Todd Bentley. We know that miraculous signs, healings and even professions of faith are very poor indicators of whether someone is a true prophet, because Scripture predicts that in the last days false prophets will perform miracles and deceive even the children of God (Mark 13:22).

Therefore, is it possible that signs, miracles and healings in Bentley's ministry are being performed by the enemy for the purpose of validating the bad doctrine and lifestyle of a false teacher, so that weak believers may think that God does not care about morality, truth or righteousness?

Satan's ultimate goal is not the destruction of bodies, so allowing a healing or miracle here and there is no big deal to him. His targets are much larger: the supremacy of God’s word, the sanctity of marriage and family—the building blocks of the church itself and a reflection of God’s own Trinitarian nature. If he can give people the impression that God is not particularly concerned when a man cheats on his wife, leaves his children and marries his girlfriend, he will gladly risk people being saved, delivered and even healed through that man's ministry.

So, that's my theory. Any takers?

Made for the Sabbath

Monday, I spent the entire day doing a final edit of the revised edition [available soon!] of When God Comes Calling, Pioneers' founder Ted Fletcher's biography. In it are many accounts of cross-cultural workers around the world. I couldn't help thinking of Jesus' words on the Sabbath in Mark 2:27 when I read this story:

Kyrgyzstan - One Saturday evening, Pioneers team members Kathy and Tom Sansera (not their real names) were working on their language study when there was a knock on their apartment door. One of their neighbors was inviting them to join the yearly clean-up of their apartment grounds—at 9:00 the next morning. Tom explained that they went to church on Sunday morning, so they wouldn't be able to help. The neighbor woman went away disappointed—and Tom and Kathay wondered if they had made the right decision. Wasn't God honored by their decision to testify to a stranger on His behalf, especially in this Muslim and secular nation? Then the Lord reminded them of the Good Samaritan, and the Sanseras realized their decision would make them like the priest who hurried to his religious duties instead of helping a needy stranger. The next morning, Tom ran down four flights of stairs to tell their neighbor that they had changed their minds. When she asked, "Why?" Tom had an opportunity to put his language study to good use. He shared the story about how a wounded Jewish traveler was helped by a despised Samaritan. The Kyrgyz woman listened intently to every word and then smiled. Tom and Kathy spent the morning picking up trash and sweeping the grounds with handmade brooms. By the time the finished, they had met every person in their apartment building. It wasn't the typical Sunday morning church service, but I believe God was very pleased with Tom and Kathy's decision. The friendships they made will surely help them reach their goal to plant a church in this Muslim country.

Was Pat Robertson Right?

It's only been in the last 200 years or so—and only in the Western world—that natural disasters have been entirely explained as the capricious whims of low pressure systems, the arbitrary shifting of tectonic plates or the random release of lava from volcanic pockets. The Enlightenment disabused the Western world of its archaic notions of divine judgment, along with the outdated mythology of angry river gods who flood villages and beneficent rain gods who water crops.

So, when an aging televangelist like Pat Robertson blames a devastating earthquake on a nation's apocryphal pact with the devil, both the Christian and secular world recoil in disgust and label him an insensitive and outdated buffoon. But is it possible that there is some proverbial meat left on the bones of Robertson's misled statement?

If we look at the biblical record, we will be hard pressed to find a natural disaster that does not have some spiritual dimension. Robertson's error was in his implication that a current crisis was judgment for an incident 200 years ago—and that we as humans are in a place to make these cause and effect connections.

In doing this, he falls into the same error as Jesus' undiscerning disciples who asked about the man born blind in John 9:2-3, "Who sinned, this man or his parents?" and the followers who inquired about the Galileans Pilate murdered (Luke 13:1-5).

In both incidents, Jesus turned their attention from idle speculation to worship ("Neither," he said of the blind man. "This happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.") and repentance ("But unless you repent, you too will all perish.")

Robertson's comments were a distraction from the true spiritual reality of earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, famines and floods: The earth is groaning under the weight of a universal curse and waits expectantly for its redemption. Both sinners and saints equally suffer under this judgment—some in despair and others in expectation of creation's transformation into a new heavens and new earth (Romans 8:18-25).

Book Review: Housekeeping

I hesitate to recommend Marilynne Robinson's Housekeeping, because—although it has been almost universally acclaimed as one of the greatest novels of the 20th century since it was published in 1980—I found it difficult to enjoy. It is a story of the generational effects of family dysfunction culminating in the emotional and physical abandonment of two young girls. Robinson's main character Ruth reflects on the consequences of the narcissism of parents.

"Then there is the matter of my mother's abandonment of me. Again, this is the common experience. They walk ahead of us, and walk too fast, and forget us, they are so lost in thoughts of their own, and soon or late they disappear. The only mystery is that we expect it to be otherwise."

Although the discerning reader can sense the underpinnings of a biblical worldview (Robinson is a deacon in her congregational church), any redemptive thread is buried in an overwhelmingly depressing plot. From a literary standpoint, it is a masterpiece. Robinson's wordplay will leave the aspiring novelist asking, "Why can't I write like that?" But I found more nuggets of theology in Sheriff Bell's internal diary entries in Cormac McCarthy's macabre No Country for Old Men and in the family tragedy of Leif Enger's transcendent Peace Like a River.

Case Closed?

My friend Rich passed on this fascinating article about a man who murdered a woman in cold blood in 1975, was converted in prison, served eight years of a sentence and now pastors an Assemblies of God megachurch in the Nashville area. Biblical accounts of redeemed murderers like Paul and David notwithstanding, here are a few of my questions about this story:

Just because Jesus says "case closed", does this mean an offender no longer owes a debt before God to society or to his/her victims? A man may be forgiven by God for abandoning his wife and children and marrying his girlfriend, but he still must pay child support and alimony. A woman may be forgiven by God for driving the getaway car in a bank robbery that claims the life of a teller, but she will spend time in prison for colluding in the crime.

On the flip side, just because a court says "case closed," does that mean the biblical demands of justice have been met? We must consider the possibility that God's demands of justice may not be equivalent to that of our legal system, which often metes out justice based on money, class and race, with little regard for God. A court may have a statute of limitations on when a victim of rape may no longer accuse her attacker, but a rapist is still accountable to God for his actions. A court may call someone "married", but this doesn't necessarily make them wed in God's sight, and a secular court's writ of divorce does not mean the covenant a couple made before God is no longer in effect. While we're on the topic, just because a court says a fetus is not a human being does not mean this is true.

I don't think there's any easy answer to these questions, except to say that the church often uncritically accepts our secular society's views of justice and accountability without considering that God's standards may be even higher. It is also true that biblical reconciliation, forgiveness and restoration are sometimes viewed as scandalously liberal from the viewpoint of modern society. Although biblical grace is radical in its demands both for the sinner and the victim, someone recently described the current Christian conception of grace as closer to someone robbing a bank, saying they're sorry and getting to keep the money.

One ironic note on the Nashville story: Within his denomination's restrictions (until they were changed several years ago), this pastor would have been unconditionally disqualified for ministry if he had divorced his wife and married another woman—instead of murdering someone—before becoming a believer.

Bentley's Curse

Todd Bentley recently began conducting "Outpouring Services" at Morningstar Ministries, where he has been undergoing "restoration" under Rick Joyner.

Several weeks ago, Bob Jones, a leader in the prophetic movement—and dead ringer for Cotton Hill—says he had a trance in which God instructed him to break off the "curse" that had been put on Todd by "well-meaning" but "disgruntled" Christians. These curses, Jones noted, have left Todd open to being "assassinated" and also affect those who "protected" Todd.

The "curses", of course, are the criticisms of those who questioned the legitimacy of Todd's ministry during the Lakeland revival and were concerned when he left his wife and children for a young intern on his staff.

Before laying hands on Todd and praying that God will give him a "clear conscience" and an even greater "anointing" than he had before, Jones warns listeners that the curses leveled on Todd could come back on those who spoke ill against him.

Favorite Books of 2009

So Brave, Young and Handsome, by Leif Enger - It's not as good as his first novel, Peace Like a River, but Enger's trash is better than almost everyone else's treasure.

The Reagan Diaries, edited by Douglas Brinkley - Regardless of your opinion of our 40th president, this book will help you understand his heart.

Methland, by Nick Redding - An agonizing look at the sociological, demographic, economic and spiritual aspects of drug addiction in small-town America.

Not for Sale, by David Batstone - The global human trafficking crisis told through the stories of several of its victims. A stomach-turning must-read.

The Lost World of Genesis One, by John Walton - A readable exploration of how Genesis 1's Ancient Near Eastern readers/listeners may have understood the creation narrative.

The Language of God, by Francis Collins - The head of the Human Genome Project—also an evangelical—explores God's fingerprints in biology.

Finally Alive, by John Piper - An important exploration of the new birth that exposes modern evangelicalism's lack of precision in understanding God's work of redemption.

The Pianist, by Władysław Szpilman - You probably saw the Palm d'Or-winning film when it was released nearly a decade ago. The book is even better.

Tortured for Christ, by Richard Wurmbrand - The convicting, disturbing, inspiring memoir of the Romanian pastor and Voice of the Martyrs' founder.

Isaiah, by Raymond Ortlund Jr. - I read this commentary as I was working my way through Isaiah. Profound, pastoral, theologically sound exposition of the gospel in Isaiah.

5 Preachers You Meet in Hell

The Gnostic: He possesses secret knowledge that God has supernaturally revealed to him because of his access to levels of spirituality unattainable to the common layperson. When he preaches, he prefaces his remarks with comments such as, "You've never heard this before, but ..." or "The Lord revealed to me a new way of reading this passage ..." His phraseology and convoluted explanations turn the simple complex as he transforms the plain teaching of scripture into mystical codes that may only be unlocked by one person: himself.

The Tycoon: He envisions the ministry as a bottomless source of personal enrichment, using his spiritual influence to sell products and build a business empire. The gospel—if it is ever preached—is subsumed under layers of business-speak and assurances that financial and professional advancement are the inevitable fruit of godliness. The tycoon fashions himself as the model of the benefits that come with following Jesus, but the only one reaping any benefits from his corrupt brand of religion is himself.

The Politician: Because his preaching is empty of any transformative power, the politician must resort to leveraging the forces of public policy to transform society. The pulpit becomes a mouthpiece for partisan invectives—both left and right—as the preacher seeks the affirmation and recognition of government leaders and policy makers. He envisions himself as a catalyst for cultural change, but ends up serving as a pawn in the hands of political opportunists looking to legitimize their self-serving agendas with his clerical endorsement.

The Moralist: His motives could not be more pure, as he strives to give you the tools to live a more productive, moral, unselfish life. His sermons are laced with nuggets of truth and maxims of self-improvement. From child-rearing and handling your finances to setting goals and getting along with your co-workers, the practicality of the moralist's sermons is undeniable, but they are empty of the gospel. The moralist—whether the fundamentalist pulpit-pounder or the sensitive, liberal sociologist—is an expert in human nature, but ignores the only solution for transforming it.

The Comic: He genuinely believes that God is most glorified in you when you are most entertained by him. He can hold an audience in the palm of his hand with jokes about insightful babies and drunken Baptists. But these are merely a distraction from the real task that he cannot bring himself to perform: feeding his flock with solid meat.

"Pay close attention to yourself and to your teaching; persevere in these things, for as you do this you will ensure salvation both for yourself and for those who hear you." - 1 Timothy 4:16

The Lost World of Genesis One

One of the books I read over my Christmas vacation was John Walton's The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate—highly recommended for anyone unsatisfied with the major interpretations of Genesis 1: Young Earth Creationism and the Framework, Day-Age and Gap Theories.

For instance, Young Earth Creationism (YEC) had become increasingly problematic for me, as I read about the geological and astronomical evidence for an ancient universe and began to ponder the theological significance of living in a cosmos that was created 14 billion years before my arrival. Additionally, I did not see an exegetical necessity for a 6,000-year-old earth and found increasingly problematic YEC's extreme attempts to reconcile scientific evidence with their biblical interpretation.

Although it is built on solid Ancient Near Eastern scholarship, Walton's book is brief and highly accessible to the average reader. The core of his argument is this: The author of Genesis 1 was not attempting to argue that God created the material substance of the universe—his ancient readers would have all assumed this to be true. Instead, Genesis 1 is an account of God's ordering and arranging the cosmos into a temple which would reflect His glory and from which He would rule. With this view, Walton argues, it is unimportant whether one believes the universe is 6,000 years old or 14 billion years old, because this is simply not what Genesis 1 is about.