Holier Than Thou

Abingdon Press

Chapter One

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:17-20)

Guess Who Grandma Loves the Most?

When we were young, my brothers and I had a game we loved to play.

It was called "Guess who Grandma loves the most?"

The game usually began when we were drawing pictures. All three boys took great care in drawing some random picture. We were typical boys, so we drew a lot of cars, planes, and motorcycles. The secret was, we never signed our names to our pictures. We laid them out on the table and summoned our grandmother. We called her "Mormor," which means "mother's mother."

"Mormor," we asked eagerly, "which picture do you like the best?"

Our grandmother was much too wise to fall for such a trick, and she smiled and said, "I love all of them the same."

"No!" we insisted. "Which one do you love more than the other two?"

"I love all three drawings," she stated firmly, "and I love all three of my grandsons."

In our little world, this competition was incessant, repetitive, and essential. We just knew that if she would give an honest answer, we would discover who was the favorite. Since we were equally pathetic artists, we hoped that she would pick the picture based purely on maternal grounds.

What made this rivalry even more poignant was that, in my heart of hearts, I knew that my grandmother loved my youngest brother, Emir, more. I was the oldest of the three brothers, which meant I was saddled with the brunt of the chores in the house. Erdem, the next in line, was always a meticulous boy. He kept his side of the room spotless and organized to the point of distraction. In retrospect, I think it was a disease of some sort. After all, how many ten-year-old boys keep their books and videos in alphabetical order on the shelves and indexed in a binder?

I was more of a free spirit. In our home, my eccentric ways were legendary. I thumb-tacked my clean clothes on the wall. Thus, I instantly knew which clothes were clean and which were dirty. My side of the room usually looked like an archaeological dig. Contrasted with my slovenly ways, the ways of Erdem the Obsessive-Compulsive earned major points.

Compared to Emir, however, Erdem and I might as well have been two homeless squatters living on the lawn. Since Emir was born last, Mormor played a larger part in raising him. Both of our parents were working; and as Erdem and I went off to school, Mormor and Emir spent countless hours together. They developed a bond that was unbreakable. I have often stated that if Emir and I were in a car wreck, I could be covered in blood and have bones protruding from my flesh, and Mormor would step over me to get to Emir, who would be unscathed.

When called upon to do chores, all Emir had to do was muster a feeble cough, and he was relieved of duty. By simply rubbing his head and moaning slightly, Emir could get out of anything. The workload fell onto my shoulders. As I shuffled out the door, I angrily saw Emir, standing behind Mormor, with a slight smile, waving and pointing. I wanted to stab him in the neck—such brotherly love.

This ongoing rivalry fed the comparison beast. We spent hours plotting against one another, attempting to earn her favor. The key point was, it was not enough for Mormor to love us unconditionally. She had to love us more than the others.

Toxic Christianity approaches God in precisely the same way. It is not enough that Christ loves us totally and completely. For the pharisee to be happy, God must love him or her more than God loves you. This form of competitive Christianity is a performance-based system, and it is soul-numbingly wearisome. It can drain you of your joy and rob you of your freedom in Christ. Christianity becomes a horrible reality show where you must scheme to get everyone else thrown off the island.

Jesus saw this coming right from the start.

The Hopes of Happiness: The Sermon on the Mount

The crowd gathered anxiously to see Jesus. The rumor was that Jesus had disappeared into the desert for more than a month. One man postulated that he had heard that Jesus was fighting the devil himself! In any regard, his long absence was over, and the people rejoiced to see him back in his environs.

Even today, the acoustics are amazing on the side of those steep hills around the Sea of Galilee. It was like being in a well-designed amphitheater, and all in attendance could hear the words of this prophet about whom they had heard so much. The crowd pressed in to see this gaunt man with the darkened skin. He was seated on the ground, on the upper part of the slope. His disciples sat in a semicircle around him. The starvation during his temptations took quite a toll on his body, and the forty-day sun deepened the color of his already olive skin.

Makairos, he began (in the Greek), "happy."

It seemed an odd choice for someone who obviously suffered a recent traumatic experience. Why would he begin with the word happy?

Nine times he repeated the word: makairos. Happy. Blessed. Content. Fulfilled.

Nine times he offered the conditions of this abiding peace he was offering:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matthew 5:3-12)

Each "Blessed" seemed to invert common logic and thinking. The poor should be happy because the kingdom of heaven is theirs? When does that take place? The meek will overthrow brutal dictators? I am blessed when people insult me? I don't feel blessed. Jesus was certainly offering a new approach.

He continued speaking, comparing the believers to salt and light. They were compelled to actually come in contact with a desperate world, like salt applied as a preservative to meat. They were to let their light shine before all people,...