As I read this article about formerly supportive religious leaders now experiencing disappointment with President Barack Obama, I was struck by the similarity of these leaders with the first-century disciples who unknowingly encountered Jesus on the road to Emmaus.

The so-called “religious left” in America is increasingly frustrated that Obama has failed to deliver on the theologically tinged promises of his campaign. The moral outrage he expressed at Guantanamo, the Iraq War, health care, corporate corruption and poverty has become tempered by the seedy reality of the Oval Office. Those who put their faith in him, expecting that he would restore their ideal of morality and justice to America, are seeing that their dreams were as elusive as the clouds of tobacco in the smoke-filled rooms where decisions really get made in Washington.

Similarly, the disciples on the road to Emmaus expressed their disappointment with Jesus to the mysterious Stranger who accompanied them: “We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21). The mighty warrior on a stallion they were expecting had been a peasant carpenter on a donkey, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut and got himself killed by a religious establishment in league with the Roman government.

Unlike the leaders of our day, with their unrealistic expectations of a human president, the disciples’ expectations were set far too low. This unlikely hero had no intention of meeting their meager demands for national restoration. Instead, he would not be satisfied until he had conquered death and offered salvation to all of humanity.

In regard to Obama, any expectations are probably too high. In regard to Jesus, we cannot set our expectations high enough.

Note: Lest you think I’m just picking on Obama, if the McCain/Palin ticket had won, I predict we would be hearing similar whining from the religious right, as that dynamic duo miserably failed to restore morality and righteousness to this country in its first term.

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?

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.

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).

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.

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.

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

Sunday afternoon, two young Mormon missionaries stopped by as I was putting up Christmas lights outside the house. In the past, I have played ignorant and allowed them to think I was a “religious seeker” of sorts, open to listening to their views. Today, as I saw them approach from my perch on the ladder, I prayed and felt directed to take a different tack.

“What is the gospel?” I immediately asked them.

They responded with an explanation that would suggest that we share the same views, but as I drilled down, it became apparent that we are worlds apart, and my refusal to budge from the dividing line sent them away more frustrated and angry than I’ve ever seen an LDS missionary before: They actually told me to my face that I am an apostate, as they turned their backs and quickly walked down my driveway.

What was the dividing line?

I embrace the “heresy of the closed canon.”

Final authority for the Mormon is not the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants or the Pearl of Great Price—all of which are sacred books to them. Their final authority is the living apostles and prophets of the LDS church, who possess the right to interpret and supercede all former teachings.

In the past, I’ve never had an LDS missionary openly tell me this, because we’ve spent most of our time dithering over obscure Bible passages about baptism for the dead or the meaning of the trinity. In the end, they leave smiling, as we “agree to disagree.” The problem with this verbal shadowboxing is that it avoids the key area of difference between the LDS and biblical Christianity—which is not individual interpretations of obscure Bible passages, but what holds the final authority as the Word of God.

Lest you think this encounter gave me the spiritual jollies, let me remind you that the sovereign grace of God is the only thing that separates me from these sincerely deceived young men.

I inwardly grieved and prayed for them for the rest of the day.

I recently read this article on the need for evangelical leaders to embrace the “new” because they may miss the next big thing (e.g. the Catalyst Conference, the Willow Creek phenomenon or Rob Bell’s NOOMA).

Interestingly, last night I read an article in National Geographic magazine about the Hadza, hunter-gatherers whose culture has experienced little to no noticeable change in 10,000 years. This people group of 1,000 living in northwestern Tanzania is nomadic, its members carrying their few possessions in small sacks on their backs. They resist change, are non-literate and have no understanding of or interest in the outside world. As the article aptly puts it, after 10 millennia, they have left no footprint on the earth.

So, here’s the question: Is our obsession with change, progress, information and novelty a Christian value or a Western value? How does an expression of Christianity that places these values in such high regard engage with a culture like the Hadza that places a high value on tradition? One could argue that the introduction of medical technology, electricity, written language and hygiene to the Hadza would greatly improve their plight. In fact, some would say that these improvements provide a perfect venue for conveying the gospel.

But what if they don’t want these things, and what if our insistence that they are backward because they don’t becomes a hindrance to them accepting the one Thing they do need?

Is it any different here in the land of iPhones, big screens and H1N1 vaccinations?

I was recently talking to a friend who is walking through some deep waters in his marriage and family. As we were unpacking some of the issues he is facing and I was recommending some resources for him, we became mutually aware of a disturbing reality.

He has been a believer for many years and has been a part of “gospel-preaching” churches—some that even add the word “full” to their gospel. He has heard multiple sermons on tithing, on the importance of bringing your family to church, getting involved in “ministry”, supporting the vision of the pastor. But he has never been exposed to any substantive, biblical teaching on the role of the father as a shepherd and pastor to his own family.

As the lights went on, my friend became angry, as he realized that many of the things he had been taught in church had not been for the purpose of empowering him to fulfill the primary role God had given him. Instead, he was being systematically programmed to orient his life and his family’s life to support and to become dependent on a religious institution and to subcontract his God-given responsibility to professional clergy.

Two types of people will one day be held accountable for this travesty: first, the pastors who encouraged it for the sake of increasing their egos and ensuring the security of their careers; and second, the lazy and cowardly fathers and husbands who farmed out their responsibilities.