CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SCAREDY-CAT CHRISTIANITY
When Fear Takes Over
I have a spear in my office.
It’s not just any spear.
It’s a witch doctor’s spear—from a real-life demon-worshipping witch doctor.
I picked it up years ago on a trip deep in the Amazon jungle. I was there to visit two missionaries who were working with a small tribe that had only recently come into contact with the outside world.
I was only there for one night. But it was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. A few hours after sunset, the tribal chief and witch doctor went into his hut, snorted his homemade hallucinatory drugs, and began to alternately chant and scream at the top of his lungs for hours.
For one of only two times in my life, I knew for certain that I was in the presence of demonic power. His chants and screams were blood-curdling. Then suddenly they came to a halt. The abrupt ending and total silence that followed made it all the more eerie.
The next morning I approached him and asked through our translator if I could trade him something for the ceremonial spear he used during his incantations. He agreed. I can’t remember what I gave him. But I came home the proud owner of a demonic witch doctor’s sacred spear.
I hung it on my office wall. I thought it was cool. But from the reaction of some of my friends, you’d have thought I’d brought a demon home.
They were aghast. They couldn’t believe I’d intentionally acquire something so “evil,” much less hang it in my office. They were convinced that I was giving Satan a foothold. They predicted all sorts of horrible things would happen as a result. They feared it would endanger my family, contaminate my office, and put our church at risk.
They seemed to think that satanic power and influence could be spread like cooties on an elementary school playground.
When I protested that it was just a stick, they were unconvinced.
When I explained that I’d brought it home and put it on the wall as a personal reminder that he who is in me is greater than he who is in the world, they said I was naïve and questioned my theology.1
But I wasn’t the naïve one. My friends were. They gave Satan way too much credit. They thought his evil spread by osmosis. They were what I call scaredy-cat Christians.
Scaredy-Cat Christianity
Scaredy-cat Christians forget that Satan is a liar, the father of lies, and deception is his native tongue. They believe his boasts.2
He can boast all he wants. The fact is, he can’t touch us without the Lord’s permission. He’s only powerful when we believe his lies. He has no power otherwise.
He doesn’t gain a foothold when we participate in, hang around, or touch something that was once his. He gains a foothold when we sin. Evil is not some sort of contagious disease. It’s a conscious choice. We don’t have to worry about being accidentally contaminated.
Scaredy-cat Christians make two mistakes that Daniel never made. They add extra rules to Scripture, and they run away from anything they perceive to be spiritually contaminated.
Unfortunately, both of these behaviors sabotage our ability to infiltrate and influence the world we live in. They make a Daniel-like impact impossible.
Legalism
Legalism is simply adding extra rules to the Bible. It flows out of the best intentions. It seeks to promote righteousness. But it’s far more likely to produce pride, isolation, and a reputation among non-Christians that we’re weird—or at best quirky.
The typical non-Christian looks at legalistic believers a lot like tourists look at an Amish community. They’re impressed with the high level of commitment, enjoy the food, and like the furniture. But they think they’re odd. They have no desire to become one of them.
If you haven’t noticed, extrabiblical and legalistic rules are always based on the Bible. They’re just not found in the Bible. That’s what makes it so hard to win an argument with legalists. They have a verse for everything, even when the verses they quote have nothing to do with the rules they make.
Consider the legalistic rules that were added to the Sabbath. The law of Moses required that Israelites abstain from work. But the rabbis and religious leaders weren’t satisfied to leave it with that. They had to help God out with a precise definition of what constituted work.
So they created a detailed rule book. They determined it was okay to pull your animal out of a ditch on the Sabbath, but you couldn’t administer medical aid to your friend. They decided that was too much like practicing medicine, which was work.
That’s the reason they were so angry with Jesus for healing on the Sabbath. They wanted him to wait until the next day. Their passion for their rules had drowned out their compassion for people, which always happens once legalism gets a foothold.
I remember as a new Christian being exposed to the same kind of extra rules. I was told that I shouldn’t watch television because the Bible says to redeem the time and use it wisely. I was forbidden to have a beer because the Bible says don’t get drunk. I couldn’t dance because the Bible says to flee sexual immorality. And I was told to eat right and get a lot of aerobic exercise because my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit.3
All of these were presented as biblical rules, though none were actually found in the Bible. And none of the people who forced them on me seemed to notice that Jesus ripped on these kinds of extrabiblical, man-made rules.4
The apostle Paul was just as harsh in his criticism of extrabiblical rules. In his letter to the Colossians, he said they were completely worthless, incapable of producing righteousness or restraining fleshly desires. Here’s how he put it:
Since you died with Christ to the elemental spiritual forces of this world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its rules: “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!”? These rules, which have to do with things that are all destined to perish with use, are based on merely human commands and teachings. Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence.5
The fact is, God doesn’t need our help or want our extra rules. He got it right the first time. He’s not up in heaven agonizing over a few things he left out of the Bible. He doesn’t need an editor and he doesn’t appreciate it when we add to his words.6
The Fear of Contamination
Another sign of scaredy-cat Christianity is the unwarranted and unbiblical fear of spiritual contamination. Instead of redeeming that which the Enemy has defiled, scaredy-cat Christians run from anything remotely connected to the Enemy.
That’s not to say we should take our Enemy lightly. Only a fool does that. But it is to say there is no need to panic every time he roars or run from everything he’s ever touched. We’re called to resist the Devil, not run from him. And when we do, he’s the one who flees.7
That’s why Daniel had no problem studying the language and literature of the Babylonians. He didn’t care that it had pagan roots. He wasn’t afraid to be in the presence of evil. He knew the power of his God.
Because he was a prominent wise man, it’s inconceivable that Daniel failed to show up at special events set aside to honor Bel and the other false gods of Babylon. His role in the royal court would have made his participation mandatory. Yet he seemed to treat it as no big deal.
Scaredy-cat Christians see the world quite differently. They’re afraid they’ll be contaminated if they participate in anything that has pagan roots or a godless connection.
Consider the annual uproar over Halloween. A friend of mine throws a block party every October 31. He sees it as a great way to connect with his non-Christian neighbors. They seem to agree.
But he’s often chastised by his Christian friends. They think he should pull down the shades and turn out the lights. They’re convinced he’s worshipping Satan. He and his friends think they’re having a barbecue.
His Christian critics point to Halloween’s pagan roots (though they seem to miss the fact that some scholars trace Halloween’s roots to ancient Christian traditions). They believe that jack-o’-lanterns and trick-or-treating are remnants of a nefarious past. They note that Satan worshippers have claimed it as their high holy day.
They’re genuinely fearful for his (and his children’s) spiritual condition. They think evil is a communicable disease. They fear rubbing shoulders with a few wannabe Satan worshippers is enough to undercut everything Jesus did on the cross.
They also tend to apply this same guilt by association and past heritage to everything from stretching exercises to children’s books. They always have a subliminal danger to warn us about. Yet if they were to apply this same guilt by association or past heritage consistently, they’d have to get rid of a lot of things they cherish.
They’d have to burn their King James Bibles.
The old king was hardly a paragon of virtue.
They’d also have to stop celebrating Christmas because the date we celebrate Christmas on has nothing to do with the Bible or early church tradition. It’s tied to the winter solstice. In fact, the Puritans were so concerned about the pagan roots and traditions surrounding Christmas that they forbade any celebration of the holiday.
They’d also need to remove the pipe organ from any church that still has one. It too has questionable roots. It was originally considered the instrument of the Devil due to its use in profane and godless theaters. In fact, Martin Luther was assailed for bringing it into the church. But he decided the Devil shouldn’t have all the good music.
Scaredy-cat Christianity makes no sense.
It fails to honor the glory of our God.
It forgets that greater is he who is in us than he who is in the world.8