By Chaplain Mike

Regret. This is the great demon conjured up by International House of Prayer founder and director Mike Bickle to scare Christians straight. The Christian Post reports that he gave a message on the subject to 27,000 young people at a four-day conference last week in Kansas City, MO.

Bickle’s message was first preached on Jan. 28, 2006, as part of a series on the millennium. (You can access the original by clicking the link.) In dramatic fashion, Bickle testifies about a life-changing “vision” he received from Jesus.

I had a very powerful visitation of the Lord when I was twenty-three years old—a long time ago. I am fifty now, and it was Oct. 1978. I lived in St. Louis, and it was a life-changing radical arresting experience—a trance. I was caught up, and I experienced it in the spirit; yet I was still on the earth, I was kneeling before the Lord. and I did not know what was going on. I did not know where I was, or what was going on, but I was kneeling before the Lord. I went to bed one night and I woke up in this experience. I am kneeling before the Lord, and I am looking into His eyes . . .

The Lord is looking at me eye to eye and says, “Saved, but your life was wasted.”

This shocked Bickle, for he was sure that he was a committed believer, full of zeal for the Lord. The pain he felt on that occasion was the greatest he ever felt in his life—the pain of regret. The vision was so powerful, according to Bickle, that it has molded his thinking ever since. More than anything else, he testified that he does not want to reach the last day and experience that feeling of regret.

That was the feeling and when I looked in His eyes, I was ashamed, and I realized there was no condemnation in the sense of we are forgiven; we will stand in His kingdom forgiven. We will be secure in His kingdom, but I was ashamed of how I lived. I felt the feeling and the emotion of it. It is biblical to have regret in the presence of God.

It is not, however, biblical to manipulate people by destroying their assurance through religious double-talk and by teaching them to trust in their own dedication rather than the Gospel of grace in Jesus Christ.

Works-righteousness by any other name still stinks.

In his message, Mike Bickle drives home the eternal issues that are at stake and tells us he doesn’t want to “let us off the hook” like so many other American churches and preachers would.

There will be many people on the last day that will lose. They will have loss; they will stand before the Lord, and decades of their life will be lost. They will have nothing to show: no fruit. Nothing that lasts from a decade—a couple of decades—a month, or a year. I do not know! Beloved, there is real loss, but that is not the end of it. It is suffering loss. What I mean by suffering loss is there will be a real sting of regret. A real pain of regret; it will not be suffering like the unbelievers in the lake of fire—not that kind of suffering. But the pain of loss, and regret will be real. I remember that experience so well [from his vision]; I was in anguish in my spirit because I was face to face with the man who loved me more than I could imagine, and my answer to Him was, “I did not regard or esteem my commitment to Him as worthy of living differently.”

In advance of that day of fearsome judgment, Bickle encourages us to ask the Lord to “shock us now” so that we won’t be shocked when we stand before him. Go to the Lord now, he exhorts us, and ask him: “What are you thinking about my life? I want to know what you are thinking now. How am I measuring up to what you want?”

I can give you the short answer to those questions.

My life is hopeless. Always has been and always will be, especially in comparison with God’s perfections and demands. He knows it, and I know it, and most everyone else in my life knows it. How am I measuring up? Are you serious? How does the anthill measure up to Mt. Everest? And if the purpose in asking these questions is for me to learn that I need to clean up my act and “follow through” (Bickle’s definition of faithfulness) so that I will “measure up” to what God wants for me, what hope do I have of doing that? When it comes to faithfulness, I fizzle. Frequently. Faithfully, you might say.

Bickle tries time and time again in this sermon to assure me he is not talking about my “salvation” here. But in his view that initial transaction involving forgiveness of sins just gets me in the door. What really matters (and what will really count on the Day of Judgment) is what I do with my forgiven status. That’s what earns the big prize. That is what will get me the rewards and relieve me of regret. And what is my hope of winning Jesus’ smile? What will enable me to avoid those dreadful words: “Saved, but you wasted your life”? Bottom-line, according to Mike Bickle: it’s all up to me—my commitment, my zeal, my dedication, my faithful follow-through, my obedience.

Folks, that’s flat out a recipe for disaster.

When some Christian preachers aren’t trying to scare sinners into heaven by painting fearsome, heart-breaking pictures of hell, they aim their guns on the saints and blast away their assurance and joy by inducing fear that they will end up just “barely” saved, filled with regret. Let’s call this what it is: pure manipulation—stirring up guilty feelings and then using them to persuade someone to make a decision to change their ways. It is behavior modification. It is giving people Christ and forgiveness with one hand, and then slapping them in the face with the other hand while shouting, “Yes, of course God loves you, but if you are not totally devoted to Jesus with every ounce of your being, his searing gaze will burn regret and shame into your souls on the Day of Judgment!”

This is so foreign to the spirit and text of the New Testament that one would think the church would have left this behind centuries ago. However, it is so easy for gullible human hearts to imagine that such a project of self-improvement remains possible. And it is so tempting for people in positions of power to manipulate their listeners with guilt and fear. Therefore, every generation has to keep weeding the garden and pulling out the poisonous plants of works-righteousness and self-trust. Bickle wants us to think that the Biblical pronouncement “no condemnation” means something less than “NO condemnation”—it doesn’t cover everything in my life. The only way we can earn the real thing, the whole prize, a complete smile from the Savior, a “no regrets—no condemnation,” is by living a life of wholehearted obedience.

Nonsense. My only hope on the Day of Judgment for any positive outcome is the finished work of Jesus Christ. If God has welcomed me into his family by grace, if he is “happy” with me, it will be because of Jesus and what he did for me plus nothing else. On that basis and on that basis alone, there will be no condemnation on that day. Nor will there be any regret. Jesus will not frown at me and chasten me for wasting my life. At that moment, it will all be about him sacrificing his life for me and taking it up again. Period. It will be about his dedication to his Father’s will, not mine. It will be about his zeal to complete the work his Father gave him, not mine. It will be about the faithfulness by which he followed through all the way to the cross for me, the ever-faithless one. His love will be celebrated, not mine. His obedience, not mine. The Good News of what he did for me, not any story about anything I have done for him.

Get that straight, and there will be no need to rev up the troops with guilt-inducing appeals warning us about wasting our lives and having to face a disappointed Savior.

If you ask me, Mike Bickle may have had some bad pizza back in October, 1978, which prompted a nightmare, not a vision from Jesus. Any dream in which Christ frowns on his people on Judgment Day might be better chalked up to bad pepperoni rather than a divine visitation.

Or maybe he drank too much of the same snake oil he’s now trying to sell to a bunch of young people in Kansas City.

By Chaplain Mike

You just can’t stop technology. And apparently you can’t stop evangelicals from thinking that every new or improved technology that comes along should be used to “advance the Gospel.”

And so we learn that Fellowship Church in Dallas, Texas (Pastor Ed Young) will be offering 21 Christmas services in 3-D at their multiple campuses. Those who attend will be given 3-D glasses to watch the high tech experiences. When asked about the novel approach, Pastor Young said, “We’re doing a 3-D Christmas because people are looking for height, width and depth in their lives.” OK, that’s the kind of hokey statement that turns me into a grinch.

The church is promoting the events by handing out invitations (which you can also print at their website) that offer a 3-D experience when you activate them through your computer’s webcam and sound.

And again I ask—Just because we can . . . must we?

We’ve come a long way from the manger.

I wonder if they’ll be singing “When You Wish upon a Star” in the part about the Wise Men?

By Chaplain Mike.

Warning: Many of you won’t have the stomach to watch more than a few minutes of this.

One thing I have always appreciated about Michael is his courage to point out “Christian” craziness and call it for what it is. Some people object to that kind of truth-telling, thinking it is somehow disloyal to the family. I don’t.

Everybody in the family knows about weird Uncle Harry. We tell the stories. We laugh. We try to contain him at the family reunion. We hope to avoid encountering him so he won’t freak out the friends we brought. We size up the situation and make strategic moves so that we don’t have to sit next to him at the table. We excuse ourselves to go to the bathroom when he tries to engage us in conversation. We do our best to avoid him all day long. Then we go back to our normal lives and forget all about him for awhile, glad that’s all over.

Problem is, the Uncle Harrys of the world are multiplying. And with the almost unlimited access to information that we have these days, it’s getting harder and harder to keep Uncle Harry a secret. He seems to show up regularly, almost everywhere. People are starting to make the connection — Oh, he’s your relative?

You probably remember this outstanding example of contemporary Christian “worship“. I thought it couldn’t get worse. It has.

The following clip is from a so-called “outpouring” at MorningStar Ministries, Fort Mill, SC. Apparently they have discovered a new sacrament.

Hide the kids. Here comes Uncle Harry.

Jesus is the constant mediator. Jesus is the constant advocate.

Satan is the constant accuser.

The law of God also accuses our conscience. And the grace of God in the Gospel, Jesus himself, answers the law’s thunderings.

Satan has plenty to work with in the law, and in my life and yours. It is no wonder he accuses us “day and night” before God.

Have you thought what the devil would do if he took to the pulpit of a church?

Of course, there are dozens of possible manifestations of his schemes we could imagine in the pulpit. (Ephesians 6:11, II Corinthians 2:11) It would make an interesting series of messages.

But if Satan were true to his nature, he would be the “accuser” of the family of God.

He would accuse us of not being the children of God; of not being worthy or righteous; of having no right to call upon the Lord and no hope of standing before him in judgment. If he followed the script in the book of Job, he would say God has bribed us, and that we are really nothing more than self-centered mercenaries. If he followed the script he used with Jesus (and Adam/Eve), he would question what God had said and explore our doubts that God is worthy of trust and obedience.

In the end, he would accuse us of not loving God as we should, of loving other things more than God, of being false professors, of needing to examine ourselves to see what sin and hypocrisy are in us.

He would torment us with our inadequacies, torture us with our disobedience and trounce us with our sins.

Satan would, if true to his nature, revel in announcing that we are unjust, unholy, unloving, ungracious, uncaring, unworthy in every way.

But wait……

Doesn’t that sound a lot like the message many Christians hear all the time? From….other Christians?

Examine yourselves and see what fruit you see. A-ha! Not enough.

Look at your record this week. The prayerlessness. The sloth and the disobedience. How dare you call yourself a Christian. (Sound familiar?)

Here’s bound to be a Satanic favorite: What do you love more than God? Do you love ANYTHING or ANYONE more than God? Your family? Your children? Didn’t Jesus even say “if you love anything more than me- even family- you aren’t worthy of me?”

Didn’t God say give him first place in everything? All the time? Do you give God first place? In everything? All the time?

What do you take more joy in than God? Annnnything? Anyone? Does anything ever make you more happy than your salvation?

Why aren’t you happier and more joyous in church right now than you are any time of the week? Look at you at that football game…cheering for your team. You aren’t 10% that excited in the house of God.

Look how dull and insensitive you are to holy things. How much have you prayed? Or even wanted to pray? How much time have you spent with God this week? Was it more time than you spent in meaningless worldly pursuits?

When God looks at you, just think what he sees. Think of all the vile and dirty thoughts, the petty selfish thoughts, the unholy thoughts and feelings that have filled you this week. And then you come into the house of God, sitting there like you are a Christian.

Just who do you think you are? You are an embarrassment to God and the church. Only if you repent, and show your repentance by brokenness, is there any hope that God can change you from what you are to what he desires for you to be.

OK. Thanks Satan. Fine sermon. And yes, I know all those lines not because I have access to the devil’s sermon notebook, but because I know what Gospel-less preaching sounds like.

I remember several years ago a young preacher came to our school and literally was shouting this stuff from the moment he entered the door. He went after everything: music, drinking, porn, sleeping in church, not having Bibles, modesty, purity and on and on. He had the room full of students shaking in their shoes in 15 minutes. He then commanded everyone down to the altar to get saved, or resaved or really repentant or whatever it took.

He was violent in his methods, cruel in his message and utterly GOSPEL-LESS in his ministry. Of course, he’s a successful full-time evangelist these days. A lot of people love the devil’s sermons.

I want you to imagine the sheep who grow up with this, whether it’s in church, in their home or in some ministry group. These will be beaten, cowering sheep. Or they will be sheep who run away, and good for them in doing so.

They are sheep who only know the Good Shepherd as the lesser of two evils; the enforcer of the devil’s accusations.

When Satan would engage Luther with this kind of inner voice, Luther would say, “Let’s write it all down. All of my sins. And then at then end, write, PAID FOR, by the blood of Jesus Christ.”

The Holy Spirit convicts. Satan revels in torment of the conscience. The Spirit exposes our need of Christ. The accuser comes up with various comparisons and tests to brutalize us with personal applications of the law. (“If God said I can only save the world if one of your children is damned forever, would you still love God?”)

Jesus gives us the truth. Satan distorts the truth so that the Gospel is lost in the noise. Christ wants to bring the wandering sheep home. Satan wants the sheep to despair and jump off the cliff.

The Gospel is news that is too good for accusers. The law is exact and in the hand of the enemy of our souls, it is a brutal, soul-killing weapon. In the hands of the Spirit, it is a schoolmaster that leads us to Christ. Leads. Not beats us to despair.

So this week, you may want to say. “You know pastor, I think I heard that sermon before. I believe I know where you got it.”

(Before I say this, I know there are a bunch of books on this subject and I’ve read some of them. I could just recommend a good book, but I need to get this off my chest.)

My new hot button is “You need to pray until you find God’s will.”

First of all, I believe in God, and I believe he has a will. I believe God sovereignly runs the universe pretty much like the Westminister/Second London Confessions say, though I have absolutely no idea what that means other than God is in control in a way I can’t understand and am not capable of understanding. (My brain is too small.) It’s an assertion, and as much as I know God only in Jesus, it’s a comfort.

Frankly, when Capon says that God runs the world through “Holy Luck,” like a guy with a card trick that’s amazing to you but no big deal to him, that works for me. Capon believes that things don’t look like there’s a plan, but that’s the beauty of the way God has chosen to run the universe. He’s there in plain sight where you can’t see him.

Secondly, I believe God’s will encompasses my life. In the same way, I don’t believe I am going to get much specific insight into that. It’s an assertion, and as much as it comes to me packaged as Jesus, it’s as I said, a comfort.

I know that when tragedy or sudden blessing strike, my belief in God’s sovereign control is a comfort. When my mom had a stroke and died in 14 hours, I was resting in God’s hands and praying the same for her. When I got a book deal, I believe it was God’s time. I’ll give him thanks.

But here’s the thing- I am really, really, really tired of being told to “find” God’s will.

I have no idea what most people mean when they say “find” and I don’t believe they do either.

Let’s run the perspective list:

1. What God declares and commands in scripture is, when rightly understood, his will. I’m fine with that. That’s why I preach the Bible and live my life by it. But I also know there is a lot of life that is a mystery to me, I don’t care how much Bible I stuff in my head.

I’m not impressed by people who demonstrate that they have a verse to turn any tragedy into an opportunity to say “God is doing this.” I prefer to see a tragedy as a tragedy. I’m not saying God is less in control. I’m not going atheist or blaming God, but he’s running the show and he allows tragedy. He doesn’t say, “Now show me you’ve trained yourself to say otherwise.” That’s sad. Maybe even sick.

My human instinct is to see terrible things as terrible. I don’t have any theological response to not trust those feelings and say “Oh, but God is really using this.” He is. He does. But my part is to start with, “This is terrible and people are hurting/suffering.”

2. What God communicates and allows through providence. I’m alive in Ky in 2009. I’m at a school. I have a family. I’m an American. I have an income. I have certain gifts and certain opportunities. God sent them. God allows them. Again, I’m not making a show of believing this. It’s how God unfolds life in time. His story. I’m a character. I don’t try to understand the author. (See Stranger Than Fiction to get that picture.)

3. What God communicates through those with authority over me and/or by means of trusted people in my world. Same as above.

4. What God communicates by his Spirit to me in mystical ways. Now we’re getting close to the issue. I know God does this, but I am really through playing the game of seeking for God to do it or expecting God to do it because some Christians think it’s obviously the way to go. I’ll pray. I’ll ask. I’ll ask others to pray. I’ll be still and listen. I’ll evaluate impressions. I’ll try to discern God’s voices.

But this is not a game I am going to play with God. I’m not cooperating with what amounts to saying “God is toying with us to see what we’ll do.” If God wants to say something to me, no game is necessary. And I am not required to demonstrate my desperation to know God’s will to know it. There may be places in my journey I need to be before God’s will unfolds, but God isn’t being gamey. He’s not playing hide and seek. He isn’t constantly dangling guidance in front of me like bait.

If this makes sense, I reject the idea that God requires some superior effort on my part to be mystical in order to communicate his will to me.

5. What God communicates by signs, miracles and answered prayers. You don’t want me decoding these things. Years ago, our house caught on fire, and a noise outside- totally unrelated- woke me up and got me in the hallway where I saw the fire. That noise saved our lives and our house. It’s a miraculous providence. I have no idea what it “means,” however, beyond what it is. If you hear me saying it meant we were supposed to leave or stay or paint the house pink, I’m just rattling on. No one has that information and I don’t want to go to a church that believes they have it.

I do not want anyone trying to get me on board with anything using miracles as a method. If God is that gamey, I don’t want to play. My dog can talk to me if necessary. I’ll listen.

Now the real deal comes down to this, and I’ll use a real life example. Let’s say I make enough money writing over the next 2-4 years that I could work part time, my wife could work part time, and we wouldn’t have to be where we are doing what we’re doing. So it could be stay or go.

God’s will? Stand by.

I don’t think he cares. And if he does, he can let me know without me acting like he’s an alien sending coded messages.

I can serve him either here or elsewhere. I can serve him anyplace. I can be faithful wherever. I’m free, within the boundaries of following Jesus, loving God, loving neighbor and using my gifts and talents, to serve God wherever I believe is the best place for me. There is a process, but I can trust myself as a reliable means of knowing God’s will. Not perfect, but not to be ignored in favor of “signs.”

I don’t need a sign, or a vision or a voice. I may or may not get a nudge. It doesn’t matter. I don’t think God is hiding his will. I don’t think I am supposed to ignore “normal” factors in determining where God wants me. I believe that if God has a place for me I don’t know about- like being Andrew Marin’s bodyguard- then Andrew will call and talk to me about it.

I can go to school. I can sell programs at the ball park. I can write. I can teach. I can preach or be an associate. I can counsel. I can do a lot of things. And I don’t believe I have to torment myself or anyone else about that.

When it seems right to me and my family, when I’m in a place to be responsible, obedient, submissive and faithful, I can love God and do as I please.

That’s the button. Thanks for listening.