-by David Ryser.
A number of years ago, I had the privilege of
teaching at a school of ministry. My
students were hungry for God, and I was
constantly searching for ways to challenge
them to fall more in love with Jesus and to
become voices for revival in the Church. I
came across a quote attributed most often
to Rev. Sam Pascoe. It is a short version of
the history of Christianity, and it goes like this:
Christianity started in Palestine as a fellowship;
it moved to Greece and became a
philosophy; it moved to Italy and became an
institution; it moved to Europe and became a
culture; it came to America and became an
enterprise. Some of the students were only 18
or 19 years old--barely out of diapers--and I
wanted them to understand and appreciate
the import of the last line, so I clarified it by
adding, "An enterprise. That's a business."
After a few moments Martha, the youngest
student in the class, raised her hand. I could
not imagine what her question might be. I
thought the little vignette was self-explanatory,
and that I had performed it brilliantly.
Nevertheless, I acknowledged Martha's raised
hand, "Yes, Martha." She asked such a
simple question, "A business? But isn't it
supposed to be a body?" I could not envision
where this line of questioning was going, and
the only response I could think of was, "Yes."
She continued, "But when a body becomes a
business, isn't that a prostitute?"
The room went dead silent. For several
seconds no one moved or spoke. We were
stunned, afraid to make a sound because the
presence of God had flooded into the room,
and we knew we were on holy ground. All I
could think in those sacred moments was,
"Wow, I wish I'd thought of that." I didn't
dare express that thought aloud. God had
taken over the class.
Martha's question changed my life. For six
months, I thought about her question at
least once every day. "When a body becomes
a business, isn't that a prostitute?" There is
only one answer to her question. The
answer is "Yes." The American Church,
tragically, is heavily populated by people who
do not love God. How can we love Him? We
don't even know Him; and I mean really know
Him.
... I stand by my statement that most
American Christians do not know God--
much less love Him. The root of this condition
originates in how we came to God. Most of us
came to Him because of what we were told
He would do for us. We were promised that He
would bless us in life and take us to heaven after
death. We married Him for His money, and we
don't care if He lives or dies as long as we can
get His stuff. We have made the Kingdom of God
into a business, merchandising His anointing.
This should not be. We are commanded to love
God, and are called to be the Bride of Christ--
that's pretty intimate stuff. We are supposed to
be His lovers. How can we love someone we
don't even know? And even if we do know
someone, is that a guarantee that we truly love
them? Are we lovers or prostitutes?
I was pondering Martha's question again one
day, and considered the question, "What's
the difference between a lover and a prostitute?"
I realized that both do many of the same things,
but a lover does what she does because she loves.
A prostitute pretends to love, but only as long as
you pay. Then I asked the question, "What would
happen if God stopped paying me?"
For the next several months, I allowed God to
search me to uncover my motives for loving
and serving Him. Was I really a true lover of
God? What would happen if He stopped blessing
me? What if He never did another thing for me?
Would I still love Him? Please understand, I
believe in the promises and blessings of God. The
issue here is not whether God blesses His children;
the issue is the condition of my heart. Why do I
serve Him? Are His blessings in my life the gifts
of a loving Father, or are they a wage that I have
earned or a bribe/payment to love Him? Do I love
God without any conditions? It took several
months to work through these questions. Even
now I wonder if my desire to love God is always
matched by my attitude and behavior. I still catch
myself being disappointed with God and angry
that He has not met some perceived need in my
life. I suspect this is something which is never
fully resolved, but I want more than anything
else to be a true lover of God.
So what is it going to be? Which are we, lover or
prostitute? There are no prostitutes in heaven, or
in the Kingdom of God for that matter, but there
are plenty of former prostitutes in both places.
Take it from a recovering prostitute when I say
there is no substitute or unconditional, intimate
relationship with God. And I mean there is no
palatable substitute available to us (take another
look at Matthew 7:21-23 sometime). We must
choose.
teaching at a school of ministry. My
students were hungry for God, and I was
constantly searching for ways to challenge
them to fall more in love with Jesus and to
become voices for revival in the Church. I
came across a quote attributed most often
to Rev. Sam Pascoe. It is a short version of
the history of Christianity, and it goes like this:
Christianity started in Palestine as a fellowship;
it moved to Greece and became a
philosophy; it moved to Italy and became an
institution; it moved to Europe and became a
culture; it came to America and became an
enterprise. Some of the students were only 18
or 19 years old--barely out of diapers--and I
wanted them to understand and appreciate
the import of the last line, so I clarified it by
adding, "An enterprise. That's a business."
After a few moments Martha, the youngest
student in the class, raised her hand. I could
not imagine what her question might be. I
thought the little vignette was self-explanatory,
and that I had performed it brilliantly.
Nevertheless, I acknowledged Martha's raised
hand, "Yes, Martha." She asked such a
simple question, "A business? But isn't it
supposed to be a body?" I could not envision
where this line of questioning was going, and
the only response I could think of was, "Yes."
She continued, "But when a body becomes a
business, isn't that a prostitute?"
The room went dead silent. For several
seconds no one moved or spoke. We were
stunned, afraid to make a sound because the
presence of God had flooded into the room,
and we knew we were on holy ground. All I
could think in those sacred moments was,
"Wow, I wish I'd thought of that." I didn't
dare express that thought aloud. God had
taken over the class.
Martha's question changed my life. For six
months, I thought about her question at
least once every day. "When a body becomes
a business, isn't that a prostitute?" There is
only one answer to her question. The
answer is "Yes." The American Church,
tragically, is heavily populated by people who
do not love God. How can we love Him? We
don't even know Him; and I mean really know
Him.
... I stand by my statement that most
American Christians do not know God--
much less love Him. The root of this condition
originates in how we came to God. Most of us
came to Him because of what we were told
He would do for us. We were promised that He
would bless us in life and take us to heaven after
death. We married Him for His money, and we
don't care if He lives or dies as long as we can
get His stuff. We have made the Kingdom of God
into a business, merchandising His anointing.
This should not be. We are commanded to love
God, and are called to be the Bride of Christ--
that's pretty intimate stuff. We are supposed to
be His lovers. How can we love someone we
don't even know? And even if we do know
someone, is that a guarantee that we truly love
them? Are we lovers or prostitutes?
I was pondering Martha's question again one
day, and considered the question, "What's
the difference between a lover and a prostitute?"
I realized that both do many of the same things,
but a lover does what she does because she loves.
A prostitute pretends to love, but only as long as
you pay. Then I asked the question, "What would
happen if God stopped paying me?"
For the next several months, I allowed God to
search me to uncover my motives for loving
and serving Him. Was I really a true lover of
God? What would happen if He stopped blessing
me? What if He never did another thing for me?
Would I still love Him? Please understand, I
believe in the promises and blessings of God. The
issue here is not whether God blesses His children;
the issue is the condition of my heart. Why do I
serve Him? Are His blessings in my life the gifts
of a loving Father, or are they a wage that I have
earned or a bribe/payment to love Him? Do I love
God without any conditions? It took several
months to work through these questions. Even
now I wonder if my desire to love God is always
matched by my attitude and behavior. I still catch
myself being disappointed with God and angry
that He has not met some perceived need in my
life. I suspect this is something which is never
fully resolved, but I want more than anything
else to be a true lover of God.
So what is it going to be? Which are we, lover or
prostitute? There are no prostitutes in heaven, or
in the Kingdom of God for that matter, but there
are plenty of former prostitutes in both places.
Take it from a recovering prostitute when I say
there is no substitute or unconditional, intimate
relationship with God. And I mean there is no
palatable substitute available to us (take another
look at Matthew 7:21-23 sometime). We must
choose.
-Dr. David Ryser.