The Soiled Landscape of Redemption

The Soiled Landscape of Redemption

In this modern world of technological advances and the marketing of the finished product, the church has become far too antiseptic, bleached, and spiritually unblemished. We have orchestrated a presentation that undermines the message of redemption and in many ways presents a mirage, even a lie. I read a comment this past week that stirred my innermost being.

The man said, “Our churches do not have enough blood on the floor, the blood of both wounded sinners and the Savior”.

Think on that statement, that indictment. Instead of a redemptive slaughterhouse, we have become a museum for the approval of the righteous, when in fact we should be a crimson lighthouse that attracts the wounded and provides them a place to bleed as well as a place to find the blood from which to heal. We spend much energy to project an image of wholeness and perfection, believing that is what attracts sinners. But most times that is exactly what drives sinners away, for by that image they are repelled as they shrink back in the reality of their own profound imperfection and sin.

We have hung drapes of morality that keeps the light of redemption from shining through and opening the hearts of the lost. Many people feel the necessity to get cleaned up before they can even consider becoming a believing follower of Jesus Christ, and we have encouraged that perception by the clean and pristine image projected by our spiritual communities. Sinners, demonstrative and open sinners, were drawn to Christ in His incarnation, and yet we continue to be aloof and insulated in our micro-communities of conservatism, moral causes, and our assembly lines to church membership.

But the process of redemption has always been messy. Think on the cross and see the gruesome visage and scarlet body, hanging and writhing in agony over the soiled landscape beneath this figure draped in horror. There is nothing antiseptic here, nothing that presents a neat, little package waiting to be opened beneath Rockwell’s Christmas tree. This is the soiled landscape of redemption, arrayed in all its gory glory, and lifted up for all to breathe in the smell of sweat and to behold the ghastly vision of a tortured God. This is the crimson mirror in which we see both ourselves and the love of God, but this mirror is smeared with the treachery of humanity mingled with the divine embrace of redemptive love. Messy, repulsive, and captivating.

And this event died and was resurrected and slipped the boundaries of Golgotha and spread around the world with energy and power. The hearts of sinners heard the story and saw this cross, and by revelation and the message of grace they were introduced to Hope. Could it be possible that they were included on that day of redemptive death? What must they pay and how clean must they become before they approach the power of its forgiveness? What is required before the crimson door swings wide open for them? Tell us dear believer, tell us what tribute must be paid to gain such grace.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only believe, truly believe. That is everything.
What kind of love is this that offers itself without demanding a dowry? What kind of redemption requires such unimaginable sacrifice from its Author but offers its eternal benefits simply by faith? And by the millions they have come from every corner of the world, filled with the baggage of sin and the wounds that accompany those transgressions. As they come the landscape is soiled with the oozing wounds of their own hopelessness and the overflowing blood of the Son of God. Those that have already walked through the Door should rejoice in the scarlet flow that both messes and cleanses its new recipients. The redemption process is messy indeed as sinners go forward and fall back, and as their wounds heal and are reopened, and as their past and present imperfections and sins continue to soil the ecclesiastical atmosphere. The journey of the church is filled with the messiness of believing sinners and the redemptive slaughterhouse of the blood of the Lamb.

Let us guard our fellowships against the spiritual hygiene that bleaches the crime scenes and pretends everyone is fine and only moments from perfection. Our atmosphere must be filled with the blood of wounded sinners and the blood of the Savior, and our invitation must be centered on redemption over judgment. We must not place spiritual throw rugs in our midst so as to avoid the messiness that inevitably comes with shepherding imperfect sheep and loving wandering goats. So often believers are concerned when the unconverted are attending our church, when in fact that is the New Testament way. Jesus knew and allowed one twelfth of His eldership to be unsaved and loved him nonetheless.

Living and spreading the message of redemption is a messy business that bids sinners to “come and dine” and allows God to separate the sheep from the goats. And make no mistake, if you desire your church to present a “Leave it to Beaver” ambiance you can construct such a fiction and gather a collection of museum curators. But if you desire to present and live the Person of Jesus Christ, and if you are going to sound a call to all sinners from every genre of transgression, and if you will joyfully minister to the wounds of human beings both self inflicted and otherwise, then your ecclesiastical landscape will be significantly soiled with sin and redemption mingled in your midst.

There is no other way, the landscape of redemption is always soiled.