You’d never know it to look at him. If this was true of the disciples watching the horrific scene at Golgotha, then how much more true is it for modern Evangelicals? The image we have of Jesus today is the limp-wristed hippy with well-conditioned Fabio hair, gently knocking at the door of our hearts, whispering, “Won’t you please just let me in?” I bet this even comes in cross-stitch.

Today, we worship an emasculated Jesus and share a sentimental faith. All the rough edges have been smoothed, all the dangers have been safely padded, all the crosses have been potpourri’d. We’ll sing of His grace till we’re blue in the face, but no one would ever dare breathe a word of His wrath. Our worship is all Lamb and no Lion. We have defanged the tiger of truth.

Now, in the previous post I asked why this might be, and a couple of brave commenters attempted to provide answers. One suggested that it’s because the Church doesn’t sing the Psalms anymore. True, the Psalms are filled with warfare and judgment. And true, we largely don’t sing them anymore, and when we do it’s highly selective. But this is not the reason.

Another commenter argued that it’s because we don’t keep to traditional liturgical forms, set prayers, and the lectionary. True, such tools have largely been laid aside in favor of more individualistic, “spontaneous” practices. But this is not the reason either. There’s something deeper going on, and one commenter, Joseph Bayly, nailed it.

We’re afraid.

Afraid of what?

Afraid of the world.

Which is to say that we love the world and want to fit in. We want to be liked. We want a seat at the table. We want to have influence. We want to be cool.

Now, if you were given the task of making Christianity seem reasonable to a culture drowning in the waters of feminism, what would you get rid of? You’d get rid of the male principle, right? You’d take the edge off it. You’d dull the blade. And this is exactly what has happened, and very intentionally so.

Think I’m crazy? Then check out this quote from a popular book on worship called Ministry and Music by Robert Mitchell, written in the late 1970s in the wake of the sexual revolution:

There are many traditional hymns whose imagery is rooted in the concept of the “holy war.”  No matter that some of these are favorite songs or that this imagery is based upon Scripture.  Today, for some thoughtful Christians, this imagery has become inappropriate.  Many who have experienced the trauma of Vietnam and of the religious wars in Ireland and the Near East find it difficult to sing about the church’s mission in these terms.  “Sound the Battle Cry,” “The Son of God Goes Forth to War,” “Onward, Christian Soldiers,” “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” “Soldiers of Christ, Arise,” “Stand Up, for Jesus, Ye Soldiers of the Cross,” and other similar expressions are incompatible in today’s world with the sharing of the good news about the love of God as seen in Jesus Christ.  The fact that many of us in the church do not connect such songs with the reality reported in the daily newspaper strongly points up the issue.  Though we may simply enjoy the tunes and the vigorous cadence and ignore the words, they speak explicitly to those outside the fellowship—those with whom we want to share the gospel.  They are not theologically useful.

Not theologically useful? That’s like saying the Bible is not theologically useful. And it’s no surprise that the next paragraph has this to say:

Similarly, at this moment in our society the issue of sexism is becoming important to many.  Emotional debate is going on as to whether all exclusive sexist language should or can be eliminated from the hymnbook.  At such a time, if such persons are part of the worshiping community, it is questionable whether a hymn with the focus of “Rise Up, O Men of God” or “Men and Children Everywhere” can be considered useful.

So here we are now, after years of whoring after the approval of the world, and what do we have to show for it? What’s the fruit? We have Bibles that are neutered beyond recognition (God’s Word, literally changed to appease modern sensibilities!), heaven without hell, belief without repentance, faith without works, Christ without the cross, the cross without blood, justification without sanctification, a God without authority, evangelism without discipleship, emotion without doctrine, and songs to sing in worship of the Holy Triune God that could just as easily suit our bedroom activities were we to change “Jesus” to “baby.”

In other words, what we have is not a faith but a farce. And our would-be friend, the world, knows it.