In the first days of my teaching career, I tried to model my own high school math teacher. He was a very imposing – actually intimidating – figure, one of those who without even trying just commanded everyone’s respect the moment he entered a room.
My experiment was a failure of Clintonian proportion; students could see right through the facade. Fortunately, I realized quickly that it wasn’t working. From that point on I was determined to just be myself in the classroom, and that decision has paid off well through the years.
Many believers make a similar mistake in their worship. In fact, a couple of the very earliest Christians fell victim to it.
Chapter 4 of Acts closes with the early church experiencing some truly incredible things. People are selling their possessions and voluntarily giving the money to those in need. There is unity – yes, believe it or not, unity among Christians! – and thousands of people are taking notice and accepting the Gospel truth.
Chapter 5 opens with a different picture.
“But a certain man named Ananias, with Sapphira his wife, sold a possession, and kept back part of the price, his wife also being privy to it, and brought a certain part, and laid it at the apostles’ feet.”
As many commentators have pointed out, Ananias and Sapphira’s greed led them to keep back part of the money. But what many Bible students miss is that greed is not the root issue in this instance. Notice Peter’s response.
“But Peter said, Ananias, why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost, and to keep back part of the price of the land?”
The Apostle’s response to Sapphira is similar.
“Then Peter said unto her, How is it that ye have agreed together to tempt the Spirit of the Lord?”
Rather than their greed or even – as at least one notable Bible commentator has said – their idolatry, Peter condemns Ananias and Sapphira for their deceitfulness. And not only does he condemn them verbally, but he pronounces God’s imposed penalty of death on them both.
This was obviously a serious offense.
Unfortunately, the same scene – minus the condemnation and subsequent deaths – plays out in Christian congregations all over the US every Sunday, and it’s one of the primary reasons so many churches struggle to maintain unity among their members.
Making a good impression isn’t a sin in itself, but when we knowingly go to the effort to make ourselves look more Godly than we are – that’s a problem. God doesn’t call us to be perfect, but many of us try to act the part in Sunday worship. Oh, we’ll talk a good talk about how we’re no better than anyone else and how we’re nothing outside of Christ – but often our actions don’t reflect the same sentiment.
Further, well-meaning church leaders often go out of their way to paint their church as being bigger, stronger, more spiritually mature than it really is in order to impress others. Far too often, the attention that should be paid to sharing the Gospel, discipleship, and reaching out to community members in need is diverted toward fundraisers, building projects, and programs designed to attract and keep donors.
Even worse, in its extreme this focus on outward appearance eventually leads to outright heresy from the mouths of church leaders – as evidenced last week by Carl Lenz of Hillsong.
In his “BE” series commentary on this passage, Dr. Warren Wiersbe writes, “It is easy for us to condemn Ananias and Sapphira for their dishonesty, but we need to examine our own lives to see if our profession is backed up by our practice … If God killed ‘religious deceivers’ today, how many church members would be left?”
It’s a fair question, and one which we should all consider daily. Though Jesus lived a perfect, sinless life and though we are called to follow Him, God realizes we cannot live up to His standard. It’s the whole reason why Jesus lived, died, and rose again.
When we go to church and put on a good front, we are lying to everyone we see there – and we are lying to God. Further, our unwillingness to be honest about the trials we face and the missteps we make often leaves those younger in the faith afraid to seek our help for fear of judgment.
Learning from our mistakes can be very effective. Learning from the mistakes of others can also be very effective, and without the associated repercussions. But if we can’t freely admit our mistakes – or even admit the fact that we make them at all – our ability to help others facing similar temptations is blunted.
If God’s Church is ever to become what He intends, we’ve got to get back to being genuine – with others and with ourselves. Just like those students in my early days of teaching, the world can tell when we’re faking it.
