Kill Him or Crown Him

Sociologist Christian Smith coined a phrase in 2005 that has been stuck in my head for quite some time: moralistic therapeutic deism. The term arose from a study of the religious beliefs of over 3,000 American teenagers and Smith argued that this view is the norm of that demographic.

It is marked by five key tenets.

1. A god exists who created the world and watches over human life on earth.
2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.
4. God does not need to be particularly involved in one's life except when God is needed to resolve a problem.
5. Good people go to heaven when they die.

And while the study focused on teens, I think it is safe to say that most of these teens did not develop these beliefs in a vacuum. This is a very common, very normal belief for Americans in general. Americans of every age. Americans of every religious bent. Americans of every class. Americans of every race.

And while wanting to be sensitive to the fact that many, many people would read this list and be attracted to it. I need to challenge it.

Not because it has no connection to true historic Christianity.

Not because these beliefs only reinforce and perpetuate our culture's narcissism and self-aggrandizement.

Not even because my own personal story is one of turning from and escaping these tacit beliefs.

I feel the need to challenge this because quite simply, Jesus didn't make moralistic therapeutic deism an option. He only gives two options.

1. Crown me.

2. Kill me.

On Sunday, millions worldwide will mark Palm Sunday. They will wave tiny little palm branches that someone is making a fortune on by shipping them up the Midwest. Their kids will probably sing a song, and let's face it, it will be adorable. 

All of this is in commemoration of entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. A glorious, triumphant entry. It was a like the coronation of a king. The welcome of a benevolent liberator.

But, the fanfare of Palm Sunday makes it easy to forget that a week later, the same crowd that sang, "Hosanna! Our God saves!" cried "Crucify!" and demanded an insurrectionist to be released into their hands rather than Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep.

We can crown him or we can kill him. There is no middle option. He didn't leave one open.

Crowning him means setting him apart as the King of our life. This is not to say it means we'll become "good, nice, and fair people." That is the goal of moralism. No, rather it starts with the admission that I'm not very good, I'm not very nice, and I'm not very fair. It starts with the admission that my own management of my own kingdom is not going well.

I need a new King. A good King. A King capable of seeing the worst and ugliest parts of my heart and still responding with "I love you and want you. You are a treasure." A King who doesn't respond that way because he's a therapist out to help me help myself, but a King who responds because his goodness is most expressed and made known by overflowing into his people.

To crown him King is to admit that this world is not about me. It isn't about my feelings. It isn't about my fulfillment. It isn't about my satisfaction or my safety or my comfort. He's the King, and if I crown him, I can trust him for everything.

But there's another option.

I can kill him.

This probably sounds ridiculous to you. That's ok. I can see why. You weren't alive in the Roman Empire. You've probably never even been to Jerusalem. After all, this is all conceptual, aren't I just talking about a set of premises and conclusions?

But, look at the types of premises. The types of claims that Jesus made. He didn't leave them open to a simple "agree to disagree" conclusion.

He warned the most religious people that God wasn't going to let them in.

He told miracle workers that they might be frauds, completely unknown to God.

He claimed to be God and commanded everyone everywhere to trust in Him.

Not gave them an option, gave them a command.

So, knowing this, we don't merely accept his claims, nor do we merely reject his claims.  We crown him or we kill him.

We kill him by refusing him. When we do so we label him a liar, a fraud, and a criminal. When we do so, we admit that we prefer him not to interfere, that is, unless we ask him to break his deism and help us out for a season.

This action isn't coldblooded murder, but it certainly is far more than denying a set of premises. I contend it is to kill him.

The title and refrain of this post comes from the words of Tim Keller, so it seems apt to close with his words.

"Either you'll have to kill him, or you'll have to crown him. The one thing you can't do is just say, 'What an interesting guy' . . . Please don't try to keep Jesus on the periphery of your life. He cannot remain there. Give yourself to him--center your entire life on him--and let his power reproduce his character in you."