Grace and Truth

I am embarrassed to admit this. But I am addicted to radio preaching: James McDonald, Chuck Swindoll, Tony Evans, David Jeremiah.

My friends worry about me. I know they mean well. I know my addiction feeds my cynicism about the fundamentalist wing of the church. Still, I listen.

Part of my attraction is that these men are talented preachers. They have a clarity of vision that communicates well. They are good storytellers. They bring great energy and power into the pulpit. And, from a purely human perspective, they are all far more successful than I am.

The mass appeal of these preachers is their readiness to speak in the voice of God. I don’t mean preaching on a biblical text in which God speaks. I mean speaking as if they actually have an inside line on what God is thinking and doing. They often speak with the authority of God, as if God were being channeled through their voices and their agendas.

Tony Evans regularly describes God as the author of the biblical text. Paul did not write Romans, God did. And here is what God says. This interpretive move makes it impossible to engage the text in any other way than unquestioning obedience. God says it, I believe it, that settles it.

James McDonald routinely calls his congregation to repeat his words as if they were God’s own. He knows exactly what the Scripture says and exactly what God means by it, and anyone who disagrees is falling short of the mark. God said it to me, don’t argue, get in line.

Now my blood pressure goes up as I listen to these men wrap themselves in God’s own clothes and speak with a confidence bordering on the blasphemous. That’s harsh, I know. But I am reminded of Jesus’ words about those to whom much has been given. They have a lot to live up to, because their failure to do right can lead others astray.

When we proclaim that God wrote the Bible, making the human writers mere recorders, we lose access to the text. We can wrestle with Paul or try to make sense of Ezekiel, with the same degree of give-and-take we’d have in conversation with a friend. But who can argue or debate with God? By eliminating the human authors from the equation, these preachers short-circuit our engagement with the Bible.

Worse, by speaking as if they have a direct line to God, these men claim an authority over our lives that is, frankly, scary. They have the truth. All we need do is parrot back their words and otherwise keep silent.

Thousands listen and believe what they hear from these preachers. They may do so because in uncertain times people like to know that God is still speaking. And these preachers make that claim every time they speak. There is comfort in that.

But there is also great risk. If power does corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely, we sheep must be wary of following after any voice that claims to be divinely authoritative.

I believe we are called, in Paul’s words, to work out our salvation in fear and trembling. This means that following Jesus requires a lot of struggle and sweat and tears. It means listening for the voice of God and then testing what we’ve heard with our sisters and brothers in Christ. If we simply allow some charismatic preacher to do our thinking for us, we forego any deep engagement with the Scriptures and the Spirit who inspired them.

So I listen to these brothers perform their oratorical magic and I worry. Not because what they say is necessarily wrong or unfaithful. Sometimes I agree with what I hear. But I worry because the way they preach precludes our need to read and study and listen for ourselves.

Call me an Anabaptist, but I believe Christian discipleship includes doing my own reading, studying and listening in the company of sisters and brothers. There is more to following Jesus than sitting by the radio and trusting that the preacher has it right.

But don’t take my word for it. You can look it up.

Ron Adams is a pastor at East Chestnut Street Mennonite Church in Lancaster, Pa.