I was a boy when I came up with what I believed to be a brilliant idea. It was the height of the Steeler’s dynasty. I loved the Steelers, (and still do) and loved Jesus (and still do.) So I figured out a plan to serve them both. “Lord,” I prayed, “if you will make me an all-pro wide receiver for the Steelers, I will be able to do great things for the kingdom. When I catch the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl I will point heavenward to you. When the reporters ask me if I’m going to Disney World I’ll tell them I’m going to church. In the locker room I’ll give all glory to you.” Great plan huh? But God didn’t bless me with any of the physical gifts I would need.
So I came up with another plan. “Lord, if you would make me a rock star, I could write subtle lyrics about you, shape people’s worldviews without them even knowing it. I call it ‘pre-evangelism.'” Alas again He didn’t give me the gifts necessary. So I prayed that He would help me write the great American novel. Eventually I noticed a pattern- my plans all involved me being incredibly wealthy and universally loved. Because, you know, the kingdom.
One need not, however, have such grand plans to fall into this same trap. We Christians are quick to seek out approval, standing, a place at the table, all in the name of influence. If we can get the world to love us, we seem to think, it’s just a matter of time until they come to love Jesus. So we wheedle our way into the broader world, you know, for the kingdom. We succumb to the “wisdom” of Screwtape who encouraged his young devil apprentice this way, “Persuade your patient that he is making his way in the world, while all the while the world is making its way into him.”
I am not, of course, opposed to influence. I’m just slow to learn from where it comes. Moses threw away the advantages he had in Pharaoh’s court, but found influence as a dusty desert prophet. Daniel came to Babylon a war prisoner. John the Baptist changed the world not in the halls of power but in the Jordan river. Jesus died. Paul preached to kings, while in chains. It’s a good thing, a great thing, to preach truth to power. It’s, given the deceitfulness of our own hearts, a bad thing to seek out power in order to do so.
It is the gospel we are so eager to preach that, according to God’s Word, is the offense. Remove the gospel to get close to power and we have lost our reason for being there. We have given up the only power we have. The power is not in our maneuverings, our stratagems. It’s not in our unspotted reputations, nor our worldly bona fides. The power is not at their table, but at His. Spilled blood, and a broken body.