No Condemnation

Over my career, I’ve worked for six Christian organizations, two churches, and consulted with several Christian institutions — some well-known. Names you’d recognize. But who cares? I could write a book that would shock you with the dysfunction I’ve seen and the abuse I’ve experienced within the Christian faith. Sadly, much of it’s done in the name of God. But that’s a story that’s been told before and will probably continue.

From my perspective and experience, religion’s most effective and strategic weapon is guilt. Guilt is the conscious and unconscious strategy that many religious institutions rely on. Some are aware of it, others are not. At times, it’s explicit in the messaging (and for me, it often came in one-on-one sessions with clergy and leaders). But even when it’s not directly stated, the guilt is always there, hovering like an omnipresent undercurrent.

One thing I’ve learned is if I can make you feel guilty about your imperfect humanity and convince you that there’s a special class of people — handpicked by God — to assuage that guilt, then I’ve got you. Those who control the message of sin and guilt have cornered the market on God’s mercy. They’ve monopolized it with prescriptions, methods, disciplines, denominations, and tactics. If guilt is my tool, I can keep you coming back to a dead religious well (Jn 4) for the rest of your life (and I can have you emptying your pockets along the way).

One of my favorite scenes in the Gospels is Jesus’ interaction with the man at the pool of Bethesda (Jn 5:1–16). The man doesn’t get a look at Jesus. He can’t pick him out of a lineup. As soon as Jesus heals him, Jesus “conveys himself away.” He’s slippery. The next time they cross paths, Jesus finds him in the temple and Jesus says to him “Behold, you are made whole.” And then Jesus delivers the kicker, “Sin no more, lest a worse thing come to you.” 

What’s going on here? What did the healed man do? What’s his sin? When Jesus saw him at the pool he didn’t call him a sinner. But now he’s really messed up and being accused. But what was it? Jesus seems really surprised to find this healed man at this place. Of all places for someone to come who has been lame for 38 years, why did he choose this place to come to? This place is a drag.

In between the healing and the appearance in the temple, the healed man starts walking with his mat on a sacred day. The healed man is a free man. He’s never felt so good. I picture him dancing a little as he’s walking. Laughing. Shouting. Maybe whistling a melody. Tears of joy coming down his face. Then the worst happens. He runs into some enforcers. He meets some less than understanding people. Real conformist, company guys, judgmental, neither merciful nor compassionate, very experienced at spotting the mote in their brother’s eye.

They are quick to tell him he is breaking a sacred rule. The guilt message enters: “Who told you that you could do this?” They now have the healed man on the defense and questioning his security. The voice of the enemy often comes in the form of a question; “Yea, hath God Said?”. The question is designed to make you doubt your security in God. Who told you the rules don’t apply to you?

This is the strategy of moralistic, legalistic religious leaders: guilt. They have got to get this man to a service quickly. They take him to the temple. The leaders know how he should live his life, and they know exactly how to fix him. He has to hear the message of condemnation and get a good lesson in works-righteousness. Worst of all, they have the poor guy thinking he’s sick again. The religious system needs him to believe he’s still sick — because if he believes he’s well, they lose their grip on him. He’s been manipulated. Jesus is shocked and tells him “Don’t you come around here no more.”

What’s the worst thing that could come upon him? Maybe he officially joins and keeps coming back to hear the sin message over and over again. One way we could look at this is a kind of religious Factitious disorder imposed on another (imposed by the legalist in this illustration), and they try to turn you into a sort of religious hypochondriac. This imputed disorder, (let’s say imputed rather than imposed on another), formerly called Munchausen syndrome by proxy, is defined as “a mental health condition where you pretend that someone within your care is sick when they aren’t. It’s a type of abuse.” This is what the Pharisees are doing. They have him convinced you can’t carry your mat on sacred days. He’s a sick offender. He needs the cure.

Hypochondriasis is known by a new term called Illness Anxiety Disorder and is defined as  “worrying excessively that you are or may become seriously ill. You may have no physical symptoms. Or you may believe that normal body sensations or minor symptoms are signs of severe illness, even though a thorough medical exam doesn’t reveal a serious medical condition.” Now if we play with that definition a little and make it religious, we can get something like this: Sin anxiety disorder is worrying excessively that you are or may become guilty. You have in fact been made righteous and are spotless. A common symptom is you may feel a religious impulse — like you need to get a second opinion on the diagnosis — or feel like you are just a worthless sinner, even though a thorough exam doesn’t reveal anything but a righteous person (Behold you are well!). It’s a spiritual disorder, one where guilt keeps us coming back to a cycle of sin and atonement.

It’s true that Jesus didn’t come for the well, but for the sick. But the man Jesus heals at the pool is made well. After the great physician has done his work, what’s a man or woman to do? Many times in the Gospels the healed or forgiven person just went to the house (Lk 5:25) or Jesus tells them to go on a trip (Jn 8:11). Maybe for some of them the first time they ever walked home or got out of dodge.

The incessant focus on sin and forgiveness distorts our relationship with God. It perpetuates a false sense of separation and duality, as if there’s something you have to keep doing to be accepted by God. But that’s not how God sees us. We approach God not with a prayer of humble groveling, but with boldness. There is no sin, guilt, or blame with God. In fact, God has no idea you are a sinner. Guilt has been dealt with. This is a relationship without judgment or condemnation. We have peace with God. It’s a celebration. It’s a love affair. It’s a new birth. A new creation. No one can lay a charge against us.

Jesus was the kind of physician who heals without additional prescriptions. No physical therapy or follow-up appointments necessary. His was a message of pure freedom. Freedom from fear. Freedom from the controls of religion. Freedom from the cycle of guilt and condemnation.