Protecting Ourselves From God

Unfortunately, it is easier to defend our biases than to truly engage Scripture, because genuine education and spiritual formation require humility, discomfort, and persistence. As Søren Kierkegaard lamented, "The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly." We resist this obligation, clinging instead to arguments that justify our preconceived notions, and support our egos, using theology as an ideology—not as a means of transformation but as a shield against the unsettling challenge of God's Word.

Scripture, however, is not a mirror reflecting our desires, fears, and biases back at us—it is a window into the divine reality. It reveals a God who does not conform to the power structures of this world but subverts them. When we humble ourselves, pray, and peer through this window, we see not a triumphant warrior enthroned in earthly power but a crucified Christ, the slain lamb of Revelation 5. This is a God revealed not in displays of might but in meekness, a God who identifies with the marginalized, the overlooked, the "collateral damage" of empire, and the victims of authoritarian self-interest.

James Cone, in The Cross and the Lynching Tree, writes, "The cross places God in the midst of the crucified people in history, in the midst of people who are hung, shot, burned, and tortured. As such, the cross is the most empowering symbol of God’s loving solidarity with the ‘least of these,’ the unwanted in society who suffer daily from great injustices." This God—the crucified Jesus—confronts us with our complicity in sin and demands our allegiance.

Yet, all too often, the arguments of the hard-hearted and the noise of those who love violence prove persuasive. Rather than repenting of the ways we have been formed by systems of oppression, we find comfort in justifications that allow us to remain unchallenged. Theologians, preachers, and congregations alike are tempted to twist Scripture into a tool of self-preservation rather than a revelation that dismantles our idols. We protect ourselves from God, shielding ourselves with theological arguments, cultural norms, and comfortable interpretations that keep us from facing the radical call of the Gospel. When faith becomes a means to defend privilege rather than an invitation to share in the suffering of Christ, we betray the very Gospel we claim to uphold.

Kierkegaard again exposes our hypocrisy: "The Bible is shot through with requirements to act decisively. But we ingeniously devise loopholes and escape routes so that we might avoid taking action." Our rationalizations are nothing more than a refusal to see. And yet, the call of Christ remains: "Take up your cross and follow me." To do so requires relinquishing our self-justifications, our alliances with power, and our fear of discomfort.

May God have mercy on the merciless, and may God break through our stubbornness, that we might truly see. For in seeing Christ as he is—crucified and risen—we may finally learn what it means to be his disciples.