A few years ago I was watching a televangelist being interviewed on a news
program. At one point in the interview, he was asked the amount of his annual
salary. He replied with a six-digit figure and then asked the reporter how much he
was paid by his network. The reporter declined to answer except to say it was a
healthy sum. The reporter went on to differentiate between the relevance of the
two salaries, however, by stating that the televangelist’s came from little people
who were making contributions while the reporter’s salary came from a large corporation.
The reporter’s implication, of course, was that television evangelists
were perhaps getting rich by talking their listeners into making contributions. If
the evangelists can convince people that accepting and implementing the values
they preach will be of benefit to the people, then the cash will continue to flow.
What impressed me the most about the exchange between the two was that
the televangelist seemed to accept the reporter’s differentiation. I question
whether it was a valid one.
Was the large corporation that paid the reporter’s salary a self-generating treasure
chest? Certainly not. Where did its money come from? From advertisers.
Where did the advertisers get their money? From the same people who contribute
to the televangelists and from many more. From every one of the people who buy
goods and services they see advertised on television.
The reporter’s implication would contend there is a difference. When we buy
goods and services, we’re getting something for the money. We have something
to show for it.
Does advertising ever try to get us to buy something we don’t need? Does it
ever try to get us to overspend? Does it ever try to sell us an image rather than a
product? Does it ever try to influence our value systems? Does it ever try to lead
us to believe that our identity, security, or worth is dependent on what we do,
what we wear, or what we drive?
The point of this discussion is neither to promote television evangelists nor to
discredit advertising. It’s merely an attempt to show how spiritual denial encourages
us to differentiate between “religious” and “secular.” All of us have—or are
looking for—objects of worship.
By virtue of the fact that we depend on some thing or some one (or a combination
of both) for our sense of identity, worth, and security, we exercise faith in
it or them. By virtue of the fact that we exercise faith, we worship. We may not
call it faith and we may not call it worship, but that’s exactly what it is.
We worship those things, people, and social conventions in which we invest
our sense of identity, our sense of worth, and our sense of security. We may not
hold formal services or write hymns about money, power, and conformity, but
we worship them. If the object of our worship is God, then our worship is labeled
religious. If the object of our worship is something else, it’s not referred to as religious
and it’s considered safely secular.
This differentiation is incredibly convenient for spiritual denial, of course,
because the promotion of religious beliefs and values is somewhat controlled by
society. It’s as though they’re labeled with a caution, just as cigarettes are. The
promotion of those beliefs and values that are considered secular are unaffected
by social restraint when they’re subscribed to by the majority. Because these secular
values are untainted by the label of religious, they can be promoted more
freely and openly and are more likely to be accepted without question.
The extent to which any of us is personally affected by the conditioning and
the impact of spiritual denial is something that no one else can tell us. Nor can
we honestly tell ourselves. Only by depending primarily on God for our sense of
identity, worth, and security in a personal relationship can we begin to know
what he wants us to believe, what he wants us to do, and what he wants us to
value. As we grow in spiritual health in that relationship, we can look back and
see the difference.
People who seek God in the midst of adversity are considered pretty normal.
Those who truly seek his will in the midst of comfort and complacency are frequently
viewed as fools. Affluence enhances the power of spiritual denial. It
simultaneously offers a greater illusion of security and considerably more distractions
for those who deny their spiritual needs. I suppose that is why the “eye of
the needle” is so hard to negotiate. For those who live their lives in more primitive
or warring countries, the insecurity of life is much more apparent. They have
fewer illusions. They are more likely to seek God. I suppose that is why “those
who are last will later be first.”
There are two things on which all of us can agree:
• Each of us is going to eventually die to this world.
• Each of us is going to have to cope with life in an increasingly insecure
world until that time.
Our beliefs will determine how we live our lives. They will determine how we
see ourselves in the context of our relationships. They will determine how we feel
about ourselves and why. They will determine what threatens us and how we
react to those threats. Some people will determine those things within an environment
not acknowledging a loving and interactive God. Others will determine
them within a universe that acknowledges the loving and interactive God. The
two worldviews are worlds apart.
Americans live in a society that is overloaded with distractions. Spend some
time with God. If you’re home alone, turn off the TV and the music and listen. If
you’re driving, turn off the music and listen. If you’re walking for exercise, leave
the headphones at home and listen. Learn how God speaks to you. Learn to pray
with greater expectation.
In the first chapter, I wrote, “This book is not about religion, but rather about
spirituality. It is about how to find and know God—often in spite of religion. It
explains our need for spiritual nourishment in order to achieve spiritual health. It
explains how the lack of spiritual health can lead to despair and spiritual death. It
shows how we are taught not to believe in God—the source of spiritual nourishment.
In the absence of an interactive relationship with God, we default to inadequate
worldly substitutes.” I hope the message has come through.
I seldom think of heaven, but when I do I envision a place identical to our
earth with people identical to us. The only difference is that there are no effects of
spiritual denial. The environment is treasured and maintained responsibly. The
people love all that is and all who are, committing themselves to the love and nurturing
of all of creation rather than to seeking validation. I’m not aware of any
group that came closer to that than the American Indians. I’ve read that none of
their languages included a word that would translate into our word “religion.”
Their spiritual beliefs were such a part of their daily existence they could not be
separated conceptually. In the absence of spiritual denial, we wouldn’t need the
word, either.
On those days when I’m feeling closest to God, I notice moments when the
smog and pollution of spiritual denial seem to break momentarily and the light of
God’s presence shines through. In spite of what we’ve done to our environment
and to each other, I can still catch a glimpse of Eden.
Some will consider this book philosophical. Others will consider it religious.
Whatever label is given, it was written because I believe God wanted me to write
it. Only he can tell you what he might want you to do with it. In any event, I
pray that your life in this environment of spiritual denial—and beyond—is a
long and healthy one. Spiritual denial wouldn’t like that. God would love it. He’s
concerned about your health. If you don’t believe me, just ask him yourself.
Copyright © 2008 by James L. Wilcox
www.believeandlisten.com