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In the summer of 1983 I had just arrived at the University of
Minnesota in Minneapolis and was eagerly preparing for the beginning
of the school year. Rummaging through the articles and books left
behind by previous campus pastors in the ‘60s and ‘70s, I came
across material that carried the imprint of the era; it was the time
of Harvey Cox’s The Secular City. There was a lot of sweated hand-
ringing about the fate of religion on many college campuses. Some
worried out loud that the arid secularity of the age would cause
religion to wither and crumble. After all, a scientific age such as
the twentieth century could not be expected to embrace myths and
morals held out of superstition and fear. Humanity was ready to shed
the robes of religion for more fashionable attire firmly established
by assured scientific data. The brightest theological minds of the
day were hard at work to ensure at least a little space for religion.
Rudolf Bultmann thought that the New Testament might have some
currency if its message could be separated from its mythological
wrappings. Paul Tillich sought to encode religious symbols with
meaning derived from depth psychology and existential philosophers
for the new generation of Christianity’s “cultured despisers.”
But social scientists and theologians alike were in for a surprise.
The Jesus’ Movement and the Charismatic Movement would find fertile
soil on university campuses alongside exotic Eastern religions and an
exploding number of eclectic cults and sects. Campuses did not become
deserts devoid of religion; they were veritable gardens with myriad
expressions of spirituality all vying for devotees. The campus of
the ‘80s and ‘90s was just out ahead of the curve of what is now
happening throughout North America. The prophecies of a secular city
did not come to fulfillment. We do not have an irreligious culture
but a super religious one. Church attendance may be down but interest
in spirituality is not.
Martin Luther observed that when God disappears, the fairy tales
arrive. And fairy tales we have in abundance. New religious movements
offer their clients yet more options for ladders to access the deity
whether that god be housed in some transcendent realm, buried within
the ego, or permeating the universe with divine presence and energy.
The new religions are really not that new; they are in fact the
recasting of venerable attempts to secure life in the face of death
by means of rationality, morality, or mysticism. Spirituality is
inviting because it appeals to the sensualities of the soul. It
offers a path of fulfillment through disciplines that promise
wholeness. It holds out some piety that I can enact for myself that
promises to order my life, rescue me from a chaotic universe, and
justify my existence with meaning and purpose. Spirituality produces
human beings who are “unhappy gods,” to paraphrase Luther.
Spirituality is not so much a path to faith as it is a turn toward
idolatry, for it seduces its adherents, beckoning them to seek God in
all the wrong places. The search for God apart from Jesus Christ
leaves us with nothing more than ghosts who haunt, but have no power
to forgive sin and save from death.
The first commandment exposes the way of self-made spirituality for
the idolatry that it is, the failure to fear, love, and trust in the
crucified and risen Jesus Christ above all things. The pluralistic
culture (both outside and within the churches) pushes against the
assertion of the first commandment. Hence the claim is made that the
distinction made by the first commandment between the God of Israel
and the gods of the nation breeds violence and intolerance, whereas
polytheism serves as a catalyst for peace and acceptance. It is a
temptation for the church to abandon the worship of the only true God
in the name of openness and religious sensitivity. But such an
accommodation finally robs us of the God who will tolerate no rivals,
the God who is completely jealous for us even to the point of the
cross. His death fractures spirituality and opens the way of faith.
Faith clings to the promises of the One who was crucified, looking to
Him for all good and trusting in Him in the face of every affliction.
You have no need of any other gods for you have the only God you need
in Jesus Christ. There is no other. It is Him that we proclaim. The Rev. John T. Pless is an Assistant Professor of Pastoral Ministry and Missions at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Editor of For the Life of the World.
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