Part II: Churched and Unchanged
About this we have much to say, and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing. For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. Hebrews 5:11-14
Mom carried me up the steep stairs that led to a set of wooden doors. Where atop the entrance was an ornate cross embedded in stained glass. She took me inside through the vestibule into the sanctuary. It was the first time I attended church, but I don't remember it. I was told that organ pipes filled the room with a melodious sound. Once the music stopped, uncontrollable decibels rang from my newborn lungs. Being an infant, it was understandable that I was unfamiliar with the rhythm of religion. The ebb and flow of morning worship. The moments where sound was anticipated and silence expected.
As I got older, I came to know the faith-based culture in which I was indoctrinated. I learned what to say and when to do it. Like when one professed, “God is good!” I answered, “All the time!” Or when the choir director revved up the music, I knew to rest on my feet to lift my voice. When a preacher's message landed on an eerily quiet congregation, I would cheer “Preach!” to acknowledge that the Word had reached a person with a pulse. I read Scripture, recited religious mantras, and sang hymns from memory. I even became a committed tither. A Sunday morning saint. I was busy doing church, week after week, month after month, into an eventual lifetime. By the world’s standard, I was a Christian. But that measure left me churched and unchanged.
Camouflaged to the appearance of Christ but boldly living in self-absorption, I flaunted the deception in plain sight. With the advent of social media, there was my hypocrisy publicly documented with each story. There, splattered on the page for consumption was the condition of my heart. It reeked of pride and vanity as I posted about concerts, excursions, and happenings I experienced. When I joined my now former sorority, pictures of my raised pinkie flooded my timeline to show my allegiance to it. When my discontentment for others festered, it seeped onto the page and cowered behind silly memes. And when grief held me hostage after the loss of my family, I shared transparently with the unreasonable expectation that a bankrupt world would pay my ransom.
I lived with one foot in church and the other firmly planted in the world. From my mouth, I both praised the Lord and entertained gossip. I declared God as my Creator but embraced astrology to inform my identity. I claimed to believe God’s Word, yet supported world views that clearly contradicted His commandments. I vowed to love Jesus as He instructed; with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength. However, I knelt in submission and swore an oath to a sorority whose pledge required that I do the same unto it. I straddled the fence. Being neither hot nor cold, I was a lukewarm Christian. Unwittingly, I presented a form of godliness all the while impotent (2 Timothy 3:5a). Like Superman crippled by kryptonite. Powerless. Churched, but unchanged.
Not surprisingly, I noticed the sin I saw within myself also in many professed Christians. Jesus said, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34; Luke 6:45). And social media was buzzing from the pulpit to the pews. Professed Christians posted themselves in nearly nude photos, idolized celebrities, offered unfiltered opinions, and spewed hatred and unforgiveness. Many endorsed comments antithetical to Scripture. Some flashed earthly treasures and attributed them to God, as if He were a genie who supplied trinkets on demand. Others self-promoted accomplishments and showcased community service deeds under the guise of humility. All the while, clergy and parishioners boldly blasphemed God by audaciously celebrating secret societies (fraternities and sororities) in the House of the Lord.
If it felt good and seemed right, it was on full display. I could not distinguish the difference between the saved and the lost. From we who worship the Living God, to those repulsed by the thought of needing to. I expected people of the world to resemble Satan: “Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil” (1 John 3:8). But I didn’t expect this from the children of God. We were to behave differently. We are supposed to be different (1 Thessalonians 4:7). Yet my timeline displayed the carnality of many professed Christians. They partook of a Christianity that cradled sin and coddled biblical illiteracy. Their Christianity placed greater emphasis on “the culture” than on the Kingdom. They were content with a superficial Christianity that kept themselves as its center instead of Christ. They were frauds. Counterfeit Christians. And there I was, right there alongside them, looking more like the world, than the Savior who died to rescue us from it.
The unnamed author of the Book of Hebrews gives a scathing indictment to the Christians he addressed in his letter. The writer had been explaining weighty matters about Christ’s priesthood in the order of Melchizedek. He wanted to delve deeper, but interjected that these followers had become lazy. “Dull of hearing… you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food” (5:11b-12). Ouch. These believers were still in the crib. They failed to grasp the building blocks of the faith: “repentance from dead works and faith in God; teachings about ritual washings and laying on of hands; the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment” (Hebrews 6:1-2). The tenets required to rightly distinguish between good and evil. A sure understanding necessary to transition from milk to solid food; from spiritual infancy to maturity in the faith. Despite sound teaching these seasoned followers had become lax in their application of the Word. Their spiritual lethargy caused their developmental delay. Stagnant, they required remediation. They needed to relearn the basics.
Tragically, I was no different. So elementary in the faith that I lived in utter deception with an inability to discern good from evil. Sure, my moral compass was intact. I knew the obvious sins like murder, adultery, fornecation, stealing, lying, dishonoring your parents. But when syncretism cleverly disguised itself as things we consider good or harmless, my barometer was off. Way off! For instance, I thought I could be a Christian and identify by my zodiac sign, not realizing that I was engaged in divination. I saw no harm in serving Jesus and a Greek sorority, not discerning I was practicing idolatry and witchcraft. I celebrated the Most High God and listened to people who encouraged me to channel the ancestors, oblivious that I was teetering with necromancy. Being spiritually incompetent, I had not the faintest clue just how deceived and lost I was.
That is until all hell broke loose, and I was forced to grow up.
