I was supposed to write another chapter for the book Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. I wrote this following essay. It is actually an adaptation of something that I had previously posted here. It is not as complete a chapter as Donald Miller would have written but he still thinks it’s pretty cool. He wants to include it in the revised addition.
Christian legalism is one of those weird things. Everyone has their own idea of what it looks like. At one time I thought it looked a lot like a policeman. Now I think it looks a lot more like a normal person. A “non-policeman.” I think it looks like a really generic looking guy. Maybe like Nicholas Cage. He’d get lost in crowd if he weren’t so terribly famous.
Or maybe it would look a lot more like me.
Not that I am saying that I am generic looking, and maybe I am, but the point is to say that I tend to be fairly legalistic and I haven’t always known about it. Let me explain:
When I was young I hung out a lot with a kid who looked a lot like Sideshow Bob. We were best friends for years. He would spend the night at my house quite a lot. One night on such an occasion we were told to go to bed and we walked into the bathroom to brush our teeth. We looked at each other, and then we walked out. In that moment we had communicated, by just looking at one another, that we did not want to brush our teeth. It was a waste of time to brush so we were simply going to go to bed. We were pretty proud of ourselves in that moment. We felt like we were such great friends that we had become telepathic, but we were not actually telepathic. We were legalistic kids. To the modern mind not brushing ones teeth sounds more anarchist than legalistic but I have to insist – we were legalistic kids.
It was the combination of summer camp and youth group that did it to us. I loved summer camp and youth group, honestly I did, but I think it was at these places that I got something terribly wrong and so did my Sideshow Bob friend. What I mean is, we learned some incredible truths about God but it seems we also picked up some extra baggage along the way. We started learning some rules in which we were told we should live by. See, we saw people who loved God, cool people, college-age people who we wanted to be like. Those people told us some things about what we should be doing. The things they told us were good things, like going to church, and reading our Bibles. They also told us not to do bad things like watch bad movies and swear. I honestly believe that the things I learned at summer camp and youth group were some of the best things I have learned. I learned a lot of good things beside what to do and what not to so. But something got tweaked. Something that was true became somewhat not so true.
Here are the things that got tweaked that maybe shouldn’t have. First: People told me how often I should go to church. As a kid I had been going to church each every Sunday for a while so I felt fairly accomplished in my young faith, as if I had done something great. It also reinforced my belief that people who did not go to church we not quite as good as me.
And yet another thing that I was told was how much of the Bible I should be reading daily. Most people told me I was to read the Bible for a certain amount of time ranging from somewhere between 15 minutes to a half an hour. Other people told me it was a certain amount of the Bible. A chapter from the Old Testament, a chapter from the New Testament, and another chapter from wherever as long as it was in the Bible. This did not make me feel very accomplished in my faith. I couldn’t seem to do it. Sure I would try to read as much as people told me to but I always failed. I felt bad and honestly, though I wouldn’t have admitted it, I felt like God loved me less.
So, you see what I mean. Tweaked.
Sideshow and me eventually learned the joys of cussing each other out and stuff. But it isn’t really how you’d picture it. See, we were both remembered that one of the bad things was swearing, but escaping from that truth was just pure bliss. A different group of Christian, college-age, guys who we thought were cool started to cuss at each other as a joke. Since joke cussing is a joke and not actually cussing then we decided it was alright to do. However, I remember not feeling that it was alright and wondering when God would start to throw things at me.
But we would cuss anyway and the way we would cuss was funny. My legalistic Sideshow Bob friend and I would walk home from school cussing each other out stringing swear word together so that they didn’t make much sense. This would make us laugh like hyenas. Sideshow would laugh so hard at me when I cussed that he wouldn’t even be able to stand up. I would try and keep a straight face while forming my mouth around words I wasn’t used to saying. The words would come out as nonsense and Sideshow would pee his pants. I always admired him for that. I admired that he laughed harder than me. We would swear like this so often that I got to the point where I would fake laugh a bit just to keep the game going because, it feels good to make someone laugh so hard that they just pee everywhere. I’m pretty sure nothing else is better for one’s confidence levels.
I don’t think I heard about legalism much when I was growing up. I don’t think it was talked about really. Not as a sin that people struggle with anyway. My friend Jordon Presley used to tell me that it bothered him when pastors confessed insignificant things from the stage while they were preaching. I had no idea what he was talking about. He had to explain.
“If they are going to confess something it should be legitimate.” Jordon would say, but he would say it nicely and kind of laugh as he said it. “You can’t tell people that everybody sins and then illustrate it by confessing that you sometimes break the speed limit. I’m sorry Pastor, but I know that you have done worse things than that.” Jordon’s last name is not actually Presley. Jordon got told he looked like Elvis quite often. Mostly it happened on airplanes. I always thought that was strange because Jordon is Korean and I don’t think Elvis was. Still, I like to call Jordon by the last name Presley. Also, I can never pronounce his real last name.
I agreed with Jordon that people should be real enough to share their mistakes. People should be able to be real in church. I think it would be fairly beautiful if someone stood up in church a told everyone who was there that they were legalistic. Like they were confessing or something. They would say that they had been moral and good and followed all the biblical codes and ethics and laws. They would say that they had been bent on doing things right. They had done it right for so long that they felt like they were able to do it on their own. But they only felt that way for a while. The person who had stood up would say that once they had gotten to the height of this legalism, they realized that they had been riding on pride, superficiality, the neglect of mercy, and ignorance of the grace of God to get there. And that person would start to cry a little and tell everybody that they couldn’t actually do it. They would tell everybody through their sobs that they had found they needed God and that they couldn’t do it on their own. They could not be good enough. I think if that happened it would be fairly beautiful.
But that doesn’t really happen. People don’t often tell other people that they are legalistic even though the Bible says we are. Maybe it’s because nobody really wants to be a Pharisee because Pharisees are bad guys in the Bible. Jesus always would call them robbers and vipers and other names that most Christians don’t want to be called, especially by Jesus. I think that’s why you don’t see people standing up on the stage at church and confessing that they are legalistic. It’s because they don’t want to be like the Pharisees.
A writer I like named Philip Yancey and says that he identifies with the Pharisees. He says he identifies with them more than any other people group from the gospels. He wonders if the message of Jesus would have meant anything to him if he had lived back then as a Pharisee. Philip Yancey says that the legalists who lived when Jesus did found Jesus shocking and revolting. He says the friends of Jesus were the social outcasts and not the more pious types. I like that Philip Yancey says that he identifies with the people group who are known for being the Bible’s legalists.
In a class that Philip Yancey was teaching they started talking about how the church had created a barrier that made people that weren’t Christians feel uncomfortable. But the class discussion went in a new direction as people who had survived Christian colleges and fundamentalist churches began to swap war stories. Philip Yancey tells about he shared about his own experiences at Christian college. The college banned such things as beards, mustaches, and hair below the ears of the male students – though each day the students walked past a large painting of college’s founder and apparently the college founder was breaking all three of the rules.
Philip Yancey says that everybody was laughing and having a good time and all except one guy. Apparently, this one guy was pretty obviously upset, getting red and fidgeting and stuff. “I feel like walking out of this place,” the angry guy finally said. “You criticize others for being Pharisees. I’ll tell you who the real Pharisees are. They’re you.” That when he pointed at Philip Yancey. “You find a group to look down on,” the guy went on to say, “and you talk about them behind their backs. That’s what a Pharisee does. You’re all Pharisees.”
I wonder if Philip Yancey started identifies with the Pharisees because the angry guy pointed at him called him a Pharisee or if he identified with them before that. Philip Yancey says that he felt embarrassed. He also says that Jesus hung out with sinners and not legalistic people. Jesus made sinners comfortable and legalists uncomfortable. Maybe the prostitutes, tax collectors, and other people who got called sinners, maybe they liked Jesus so much because they understood that they were wrong and that God’s forgiveness looked pretty appealing. And maybe the Pharisees felt threatened by Jesus because they were trying so hard to be good that they actually lost sight of the reason to be good. Instead they became proud and self-righteous, leaving nothing left for grace. This is what I had done when I was growing up. Of course I never said it that way, and perhaps I did not even understand I was doing it. But I was trying so hard to do it right. I tried so hard to do all the right things and to do nothing wrong that I started to believe that it was up to me. God’s love became something that I had to earn and I didn’t want to be around him if I couldn’t earn it.
I used to really admire the legalism of my Sideshow Bob friend. I admired it and I hated it. I hated it when he was driving. If the speed limit was 20 mph, he went just a hair under, so not to break the law. I mean he was 16 years old. He was supposed to be getting speeding tickets until they revoked his license. But I also appreciated Legalistic Sideshow Bob and his legalism because he was doing what he thought was right no matter what. He was intensely doing something he believed and it did not matter what people thought about him. Sill, I think it is beautiful.
When we were in high school four of us guys went out to the lake one night. My legalistic Sideshow Bob friend, me, and two other guys who weren’t legalistic, all went. It must have been about two o’clock in the morning and we were jumping off the dock, naked, into what was really more of a pond than a lake, except my legalistic buddy didn’t jump in. For one thing he couldn’t swim but usually he splashed around in the shallows. I remember being so confused and then I saw that he was crying. Crying usually stops such fun being that crying means that someone probably stepped on a broken beer bottle or something.
“I hate this,” said my legalistic friend through his tears. “I hate that I have to – that when we try and – I hate . . .” he couldn’t even say it. Honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about, but one of the more sensitive guys who was there went over and put his hand on my crying Sideshow Bob’s shoulder. Eventually I understood it. As we left my legalistic friend explained to us, the best he could, because he was still choked up, that he was pretty much hating himself at that moment because we were all having such a good time and he was afraid that his legalism was going to ruin it for us. See, the park we were in was closed after sunset, so we really weren’t allowed to be there and it was just destroying my buddy because he was there and, it was after sunset. We were breaking the rules.
I don’t think I will ever forget that seeing my friend crying like that. He tried to go against his legalistic nature and it just destroyed him. The guy couldn’t have fun the rest of the night.
Legalistic Sideshow Bob and I are still great friends but he isn’t legalist anymore and come to think of it he doesn’t look like Sideshow Bob anymore either. I am grateful for his sake. Being legalistic is bad and so is looking like Sideshow Bob. I’m not nearly as legalistic either. Now, we are both getting to taste freedom and grace and it is beautiful. My friend is an even more amazing guy because of this new existence he has found. Simply everybody wants to be friends with this guy. I’m kind the same. But something in me misses the legalism. I am the most relaxed about the rules as I have ever been. I don’t walk out of my way to use the crosswalk and I know that God loves me even if I don’t read my Bible every day. But somehow I look back at who my legalistic friend I were and I see a savage desire to do what is right. It’s that desire that is attractive to me. Sometime I wonder if I have lost that desire in my pursuit of grace. Sure, I want to do good and to be good, I want it really quite badly, but “I want to really bad” just isn’t driving me like legalism drove me and my friend earlier in life. My own past legalism and even my present legalism isn’t impressive to me and I am sure that my friends past legalism isn’t attractive to himself but I am just attracted to the degree of desire. If I could just have that desire but somehow not have legalism then I wouldn’t have to be sickened by my own selfishness so often.
The interesting thing about my not-legalistic-doesn’t-look-like-Sideshow-Bob friend as opposed to me is he does even better at “doing good” now that he is not legalistic. In his freedom, he is awesome at loving people and it is because of a new “savage desire.” Somewhere along the line, he got this crazy desire to love and it comes to him naturally. This new desire that my friend has gained daunts me. It challenges me to love people like he does but I am afraid to try, I am afraid to fail, I am afraid of what people might think. I am stuck not wanting to challenge myself, always defending myself with the argument that if I challenge myself I’ll just fall back into that legalism. Legalism isn’t a concrete idea that is popular to subscribe to or that is easily identified. It’ll sneak up on you. Maybe that’s because people don’t spend a lot of time talking about it. It might be the sinful thing that is talked about less than adultery and pornography. But I think I can avoid it.
God is pretty clear that he loves me not because I try and get it right. He loves me because he created me for love. His love is right here among us. I don’t know what to do with a love like that.
