Bible belief essential to salvation?

Strange happenings. I hear that a man who has believed and followed Jesus for twenty-five years has got in trouble on a Christian forum by quoting from my eBook, Fibs, Lies and Scripture and daring to agree with some of what it says. He tells me that he has been downgraded from ‘believer’ to ‘seeker’ apparently on the grounds that he said he ‘preferred to place his trust in Jesus than the bible. Jesus told us that he was the way to salvation; he did not tell us that salvation came through scripture.’ I have looked at the forum to see his various posts and confirm the story.

The strange thing seems to be that he never suggested the bible was untrustworthy, merely that there is a difference between trusting something or someone and placing one’s trust in them. And he’s right! I trust my family, but I don’t place my trust for salvation in them. I trust the Oxford English Dictionary, but would not presume that it could reconcile me with Yahweh. I trust the bible, but only by placing my trust in the work of Jesus can I expect to benefit from the fullness of Yahweh’s promises. 

My guess is that the moderators on this forum, which I feel it would be wrong to name, think that their belief in the bible is an essential step to salvation. It is not.

I saw some interesting comments from Alan Hirsch today about the underground church in China. He points out that it grew huegly without ordained leaders, buildings and bibles. Millions of Chinese brethren never even saw a page of scripture before they came to know Jesus and accept his gift of life. And in many cases these brethren went to their graves having never seen a page of scripture. Did they miss out on the promise? I don't think so.

All right, then, I'll go to hell

  
This is a remarkable post. 

Rachel Held Evans | "All right, then, I'll go to hell”


It is horrifying how many people have been mistaught 'truths', misled by legalism and mistaken about scripture.  If only all followers of Jesus would obey the laws of love instead of  idolising the bible and preaching rules we would be a whole lot better off.

I am completely at odds with some of the practices to which Rachel Held Evans obvioulsy holds - giving and taking communion in a formalised way and setting, for example -  but these are things that make no difference. What matters is the direction of each individual's heart. Is it for Jesus or for rules? Is it for Jesus or for the bible? Is it for Jesus or tradition?

Above all else, Jesus taught us to love, love and love - love our father god, love each other and love our neighbours.  We are to tell the world about Jesus' love. In other words, we are to tell people that Jesus came to save, not condemn. That means that we too should not condemn. Whichever rules we may follow ourselves, however we interpret biblical statements about life choices and styles, and whatever we may personally feel about other people's behaviours, it is not our place to condemn. Our role is to offer Jesus. 

War Games

I have just finished a fascinating book – War Games: The story of aid and war in modern times by Linda Polman. It is worth quoting one sentence from the blurb to explain further what it is about:

From Rwanda to Afghanistan, from Sudan to Iraq, this devastating exposé shows how the humanitarian aid industry, the media and warmongers the world over are locked in a cycle of mutual support.

Now, this may come as no surprise to many people, and I have to admit both that I have always felt rather dubious about the advertising and staffing costs of some of the big charities and that I have suspected some truth in rumours of wasted and stolen aid. Nevertheless, this book has rocked my trust in just about every international aid organisation, including many that label themselves as ‘Christian’.

It appears that it is not only the big charities, which are run like multi-national corporations and focus mainly on contracts with the United Nations and various national governments, but also smaller organisations. In some cases, these amount to one-man operations, which are almost invariably evangelistic in one way or another, yet also do enormous damage in places they visit.

The problem is very simple. The rich West has the resources and desire to help the developing world. Some in the developing world can see the financial benefits of creating or exacerbating situations that require aid. The greater the disaster and the more tear-jerking the needs, the greater the level of aid and so the richer the pickings. Children are particularly good targets for cruelty as the West can be almost guaranteed to cough up when pot-bellied orphans appear on the television screen. Money and resources are syphoned off by local governments as taxes on imported foodstuffs or whatever the aid, and by warlords as tolls for passing through their territory or by insisting on the use of local labour, which they then tax. 

What is the local take used for? Partly for feeding those who hold power, but also for maintaining a state of war, which continues the need for aid to help innocent civilians. It is a cycle in which those who suffer most are generally least involved.

You may think that some of what I have written so far is callous; referring to pot-bellied orphans as if they are not real people in a real emergency situation. The problem is that in a way they are not. Instead, they are figures on a chart used by humanitarian organisations to win lucrative contracts and remote images on screen to tug at the heartstrings of comfy-living donors. I am not suggesting that aid workers in the front line or at desks may not be genuinely concerned for the welfare of those they help. For all I know, they may well be broken hearted as they carry out their work. But the aid organisations are part of a competitive industry and behave as such more often than not. You have only to look at the jobs advertised on charity job sites to see that they are after professional fund raisers, accountants, business managers, and so on. The bottom line is money and everyone who works for the organisation relies on it for their salaries. 

In the case of the small operations such as a small team of doctors from a local church who, during their two week vacation, fly to a disaster zone to treat the wounded, the motive is generally less financial. The results, however, can be equally disastrous. In some cases, these groups drop in, help a few people and then leave, without even thinking about who will carry on with the support upon which the locals now rely. 

Linda Polman ends her book by saying that she does not advocate ending all humanitarian aid to war zones, but that we should look at how the money and resources are used and take steps to correct abuses. I’m sure she’s right! The call to help everyone in need, whatever the long-term human cost, is hard to resist, but is ill used.

Those of us who follow Jesus are often suckers for the suffering of others. We too should be very careful with our charitable works. I cannot help but notice that the bible has absolutely nothing to say on the subject of humanitarian aid to all who need it. When Paul collected money, for example, it was for fellow believers in Jerusalem, not everyone who lived there. Jesus explained the concept of ‘neighbours’, and we are enjoined to love and help them, by telling the story of the Samaritan. He did not talk about people in far off lands, but those who lived nearby. We were told to go and make disciples, not take humanitarian aid. 

Should churches be collecting for Tear Fund, Christian Aid, Save the Children, Oxfam and the like? Should they be sending aid directly to emergency sites with small teams or individuals, who can wreak havoc with other relief work? Should we be using so-called rice evangelism, whether it be with food, tents or medical aid? Should our love be demonstrated through serving our neighbours or through responding to the sentimentalised challenges of far-off disasters? Should we exacerbate the problems caused by those who make war in order to take aid?