From the Salmon

When I was young, I was pretty much only allowed to watch PBS. That’s not really a complaint, I’m just stating a fact to set the scene. So I spent many an afternoon watching Electric Company and 3-2-1 Contact and especially Sesame Street.

One of my favorite minor characters on Sesame Street was The Amazing Mumford, whose magic tricks always seemed to backfire. In fact, I liked him so much that I used to go around our house with a napkin, a Tinkertoy “magic wand,” and a toilet paper roll holder, as I pretended to be the muppet magician. I’d stand before the toilet paper roll holder podium, cover it with the napkin, tap the napkin with my Tinkertoy, say Mumford’s magic words in the shallowest of deep voices — “A La Peanut Butter Sandwiches!” — and whisk the napkin away, revealing the nothingness underneath.

It never occurred to me at that age that a real magic trick would have required actually putting something under my napkin and then making it vanish. Instead, I was enthralled by the flourish of the reveal, giving little regard to the fact that my words, despite their enthusiasm, really changed nothing.

I had forgotten about my affection for Mumford until I read something Kevin wrote in a comment to my Easter post. He wrote that he thought “Christians generally have a warped view of salvation. Salvation has become a magic spell. Pray the right words and you’re good to go.” While I think I’d quibble with Kevin’s decision to use the word “generally,” I would agree that there is a popular strain of Christianity that seemingly reduces salvation to an altar call, to the “sinner’s prayer,” to words, words, words. Check the box, say the password, and you’re in. And I worry that if this is really all salvation entails for some churches and the people they reach, then they may as well be saying “A La Peanut Butter Sandwiches!” because I’m not sure the words alone really change anything.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve started reading Dallas Willard’s The Divine Conspiracy. He talks about a similar strain of theology he calls ”Bar-Code Faith”:

On a recent radio program a prominent minister spent fifteen minutes enforcing the point that “justification,” the forgiveness of sins, involves no change at all in the heart or personality of the one forgiven. It is, he insisted, something entirely external to you, located wholly in God himself. His intent was to emphasize the familiar Protestant point that salvation is by God’s grace only and is totally independent of what we may do. But what he in fact said was that being a Christian has nothing to do with the kind of person you are. The implications of this teaching are stunning.

The theology of Christian trinkets says there is something about the Christian that works like the bar code. Some ritual, some belief, or some association with a group affects God the way the bar code affects the scanner. Perhaps there has occurred a moment of mental assent to a creed, or an association entered into with a church. God “scans” us, and forgiveness flows forth. An appropriate amount of righteousness is shifted from Christ’s account to our account in the bank of heaven, and all our debts are paid. We are, accordingly, “saved.” Our guilt is erased. How could we not be Christians? (pp. 36-7)

Here’s the thing.... The longer I’ve spent seeking to know God, the more I’m not sure that I can presume to know how salvation works. I often think I know how I’d do it, if I were God. But that doesn’t mean that’s how God does it. And it’s vitally important for me not to confuse the two. And so the very word — that heavily loaded magnificent beast of a word — is more shrouded in mystery now than when I was a child. Mystery. Not magic.

It’s a humbling realization, but I think I’m at peace with it.

Could it work like Willard’s radio minister said? Salvation is by God’s grace only? Sure, I think I’m mostly down with that. But what concerns me is what we do with that idea. Because I can’t believe that God wants to leave it at that — just one more notch in the Book of Life.

I think what Dr. Willard is getting at is that for many Christians, salvation is transactional without being transformational. And that gives us a God who only exists to respond to our demands, like some sort of cosmic ATM. We type in our password, press the right keys, and we get what we’re looking for: salvation, forgiveness, healing, the right job, a loving spouse. In effect, God becomes part of our own kingdoms to the extent that He is useful. Sadly, I treat Him like this far too much of the time. And so do you, I would guess. We’re human like that.

But I think a proper conception of salvation is one that is transformational. We respond to God. We become part of God’s Kingdom. We (gasp!) do things. Wonderful, scary, useful, vulnerable, loving things. Salvation is no longer just for that future then, it’s also for now.

The old has gone, the new has come. “A La Peanut Butter Sandwiches!”