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 The Enlightenment disabused the Western world of its archaic notions of divine judgment, along with the outdated mythology of angry river gods who flood villages and beneficent rain gods who water crops.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).

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