Hypocriticism II: Blessed are the Disillusioned

This is a follow-up to my post “Hypocriticism”, which pointed out some of the causes and effects of Christian hypocrisy. Both were first published in August 2008.

I should have known.  It’s dangerous to write about hypocrisy, because that gets you thinking about it, and that gets you looking for it.  And then you find it.  And then you find it in your mirror.

My mirror in this case was another person.  You know, like how sometimes you see a person who’s really out of shape and you think, “Man, I should start working out more”?  You may not be so much out of shape yourself, but you see what you’ll become if you’re not careful.

This man (who shall remain nameless) was a commenter on another website (which shall remain nameless), and he was going on at length about many things he saw as problems with the church today.  Greedy teachers misapply the Biblical commandments about tithing to line their own pockets.  Gossip and cliques splinter congregations.  Preachers distort Scripture from the pulpit, or water it down with irrelevant jokes in a way that becomes meaningless to people’s real needs.  Few people take the time to study the Bible intimately themselves, preferring to get it second-hand—and that goes for church leaders too.

Those were his opinions, and he stuck to them.  Speaking frankly, I’d have to say that I agree with him; at least, I’ve seen all these problems at many churches I’ve been at in the past.  Not all of them, certainly, but more than belong in the standard deviation.

Seeing problems in the church in general is, I’d contend, a sign of good perception.  If you can take a serious look at the state of the church as a whole today and walk away singing “Everything is (clap!) hunky-dory-dory, children of the Lord!” then either you’re naïve, you’re not looking close enough, or you’re like me and can never resist a chance to say goofy words like “hunky-dory.”

Seeing problems is not necessarily a sign of spirituality, though.  Ask any intelligent atheist to tell you (the God Question aside) what are some of the shortcomings of the church today.  I guarantee you’ll get an earful, and a lot of it will be well worth listening to.  Oh, there are people who dislike the church because they don’t believe in God, but there are also people who don’t believe in God because they dislike the church.  And not without reason.

Where does that leave us?  People we expect to be holy fall short of our expectations.  People we expect to be Christlike turn out to be phonies.  People we expect to be righteous turn out to be self-righteous.  Some of this falls under what I discussed in my last installment.  But there’s another question that this commenter brought to my attention: How exactly should we respond when our expectations are thus dashed?  What’s the right response to disillusionment?

The commenter brought this to my attention not by asking but by his response.  Although he still professed to be a Christian, his experiences with church had made him very bitter.  His thought was that his observations are true of every single person who attends a “church building,” as he called them, so there was no point in his having anything to do with fellow believers.  When I pointed out that, although his observations were valid, they certainly weren’t true of every Christian who goes to church, he responded dismissively with a bewildering attack on my personal character.  (Of course the only motivation I could have for such an admonition is that I’m completely ignorant of the Bible, and I must make $60,000 a year from my church and spend it all on $1,000 suits!  Right.  Must… stop… head… spinning…..)

Well, that’s one response.  Disillusionment leads to bitterness, antagonism, fault-finding, and cynicism.  I call this a mirror because I couldn’t help thinking, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.  Heck; there, a few years ago before I really understood what the grace of God was about, I was.”  When you see so many flaws and suffer so much personal abuse from people who are supposed to be so good, bitterness is a trap that’s tough to avoid.  I’ve been there, and it stinks.  (Except for the self-righteousness part.  That feels really good while it lasts. But afterward, once you realize how crummy you’ve been, you get a really bad hangover.)

Yet I said just a moment ago that it was a good thing to be aware of these flaws.  Is there a better way to handle this disillusionment?

I think there is.  At this point I find my mind going inexorably toward Oswald Chambers, who bears quoting in full on this subject.  (If there is a more insightful Bible teacher than Chambers out there, I haven’t heard of him.)  Starting from the verse that informs us, “Jesus did not commit Himself to them, for He knew what was in man” (John 2:24-25), Chambers expounds:

Disillusionment means having no more misconceptions, false impressions, and false judgments in life; it means being free from these deceptions. However, though no longer deceived, our experience of disillusionment may actually leave us cynical and overly critical in our judgment of others. But the disillusionment that comes from God brings us to the point where we see people as they really are, yet without any cynicism or any stinging and bitter criticism. Many of the things in life that inflict the greatest injury, grief, or pain, stem from the fact that we suffer from illusions. We are not true to one another as facts, seeing each other as we really are; we are only true to our misconceived ideas of one another. According to our thinking, everything is either delightful and good, or it is evil, malicious, and cowardly.

Refusing to be disillusioned is the cause of much of the suffering of human life. And this is how that suffering happens— if we love someone, but do not love God, we demand total perfection and righteousness from that person, and when we do not get it we become cruel and vindictive; yet we are demanding of a human being something which he or she cannot possibly give. There is only one Being who can completely satisfy to the absolute depth of the hurting human heart, and that is the Lord Jesus Christ. Our Lord is so obviously uncompromising with regard to every human relationship because He knows that every relationship that is not based on faithfulness to Himself will end in disaster. Our Lord trusted no one, and never placed His faith in people, yet He was never suspicious or bitter. Our Lord’s confidence in God, and in what God’s grace could do for anyone, was so perfect that He never despaired, never giving up hope for any person. If our trust is placed in human beings, we will end up despairing of everyone.

[Pause for serious reflection.]

[Resume.]

That’s one you don’t hear every day.  And maybe you should.  Disillusionment, first of all, is a good thing: it means (obviously) you’re getting rid of the illusions you had about people, and having illusions about people is a bad thing.  Either you have a negative illusion, in which case you unfairly refuse to give them a chance, or you have a positive illusion, in which case you’ll eventually be disappointed.  Also, as long as you have a false idea about somebody, you can’t really help them: there’s no point in trying to make the world a better place if you think it’s already just peachy.

Then why does disillusionment hurt so much?  If Chambers is correct (and his words ring true to my experience), it’s because we don’t trust God enough.

Sounds harsh, but think about it.  Disillusionment hurts because we expected someone to be totally loving, righteous, or perfect.  But nobody can be totally loving, righteous, or perfect except God.  If you expect a person, even a loving, righteous and very good person, to be all that, you’re setting yourself up for inevitable hurt and disappointment.  They’re just not capable of doing it, and therefore (quite naturally) they won’t.

But doesn’t that just lead us back to cynicism?  Oh, it can, all right, but the alternative is to let it lead you back to God.  The only place you’re going to find unconditional, unfailing love, righteousness, and acceptance is with God, simply because He’s the only one who can truly offer it.  Jesus is the only example of a “Christian life” without any shred of hypocrisy or failings.  “It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man,” observed the Psalmist (Ps. 118:8).

In Christ you find real grace.  In Christ you find forgiveness.  In Christ you find love that’s worth believing in.  And eventually, you find something that maybe you didn’t expect.  God offers grace, forgiveness, and love to someone like you (and let’s face it, you’re not perfect either), never losing hope in you but gently, patiently, and relentlessly changing you into something new.  Then it hits you: What’s to stop God from doing the same to someone else?  Even to those people whose failings disillusioned you?

Of course they’re imperfect.  Of course they’re full of failings.  Of course they should be better.  And of course there’s only one Person who has the power and the grace to make them better.  And of course, given half a chance, He’ll do it.

Pray for the people you don’t want to pray for.  Maybe God let you see their failings just so you would pray for them.  That, after all, is what Christianity is all about.  The grace of God.  The forgiveness of sins.  Loving your enemies, doing good to those who hate you, and praying for those who despitefully use you.

Related posts:

1. John Newton: Degrees in Glory
2. God’s Little Instruction Book?
3. Hypocriticism
4. The Best Road
5. The Best Road, Part 2: More Like Jesus