One church
member stood up in a business meeting and gave his opinion of the kind of
preacher they should call to lead the church. “I don’t figure we’ve heard any
preaching until that man gets out of that pulpit and runs up and down the
center aisle a few times. That’s the kind of preacher we need!”
When I know
I’m sitting in a worship service being led by a pastor that runs up and down
the aisle a few times, I have a tendency to sit in the back half of the room
and in the middle of the pew or row of chairs. My hope is he won’t get that far
back and, if he does, I’ll be far enough away he can’t get to me.
My
experience through the years has been those kinds of preachers sweat profusely,
spit accurately, and point their fingers a disproportionate number of times in
my direction. It’s not that I feel guilty. I think it’s their way of unloading
the entire wagon of hay on the one possibly chronic absentee they think they
should recognize but don’t.
All this
leads into my thoughts on angry preachers. Preachers get angry because sin is
rampant in the world in general and in America in particular. They’re angry
because of the President or Congress, maybe both. They’re angry because of the
ACLU or the NRA. They’re angry because of the Republicans or the Democrats.
They’re angry because of the welfare system and the super-rich.
Preachers
get angry because their own congregations are not living up to their
expectations. These spiritual leaders get angry because their church members
are short changing the offering plate, not attending church services each time
the doors are open, or have become liberal thinking like those people in
another church down the road.
I listen to
these angry preachers and I remember those times Jesus got angry. He got angry
because the religious rulers of the day allowed the Jerusalem temple to lose
its priority purpose of being a gateway into the presence of God. (Matthew 21)
He got angry at local synagogue rulers for placing legalism above human
restoration. (Mark 3) He got angry at his disciples when they thought he was
too important to be bothered by children. (Mark 10)
I also think
of the times Jesus might have gotten angry, but didn’t. He didn’t get angry
with Nicodemus. (John 3) I think he was surprised and disappointed. He didn’t
get angry with the Samaritan woman at the well. (John 4) He was patient and
understanding. He didn’t get angry with the woman caught in adultery. (John 8)
He showed mercy and compassion. He didn’t get angry with Thomas. (John 20) He
offered encouragement and hope for the future.
Jesus was
not afraid to get angry even though he knew there were consequences. He was
prepared to accept those consequences of hurt feelings and embarrassment in
others. The consequences for Jesus culminated in his own crucifixion. His anger
was reserved for those who stood in the way of people approaching and entering
the Kingdom of God. His compassion and understanding went out to those who had
become victims of the world.
Jesus’ anger
was just like his compassion. It offered redemption. Even to those Pharisees
and Sadducees who were the recipients of his wrath, Jesus offered a second
chance. His march through the temple left the religious rulers the option of
restoring the House of God to a House of Prayer. For synagogue rulers there was
the opportunity to make the local house of worship a house of restoration. For his
disciples there was the lesson of childlike faith.
I don’t care
much for angry preachers. Jesus got his point across most of the time without getting
angry. He also got it across without compromising the holiness of God. That
must be our goal. We must offer God’s love and desire for redemption and restoration
without compromising who He is. Jesus thought it was a plan worth living for –
and worth dying for.
