Evil isn’t a horror flick.  But when most of us hear the word evil, we naturally think of Freddy, Jason, Halloween, Hitler, or other grotesquely wicked expressions.  What is evil?  The Bible isn’t a dictionary, cleanly spelling out tight and concise definitions for our informational consumption.  But if we look at the whole of Scripture we get a picture of what evil is truly all about (and it may hit a little closer to home than you think).

I’d like to offer my own working definition for your thoughtful analysis:

Evil is simply satisfying self at the detriment of others.

At it’s worst, evil expresses itself in violence, murder, oppression, injustice, and other vile outflows.  It’s easy to see in fascist warlords, death-row inmates, and global genocide.  But what about the husband who lies to his wife about working late so he can hang out with his buddies at the local pub?  The business woman who quietly threatens her peers in order to manipulate her way into a promotion?  Even the spiritual leader who tarnishes the reputation of others to keep from having his own failures exposed?  Evil?  Jesus said it originates in the heart, not in the act. (Matthew 5)

It starts with simple, seemingly innocent, yet foolish decisions born out of temptation, fear, or insecurity.  Then left unchecked, our consciences become seared until inflicting pain or even destroying others becomes easy, even justified, all in the name of pleasing or protecting self.  That, my friends, is evil.  The scary thing?  The potential resides in each and every one of us, not just communist dictators.

The seeds of evil rise from dormancy when I pursue a life that revolves around me.  When I refuse to face my junk, my insecurities, my baggage, my self-absorption.  When I avoid accountability and vulnerability to preserve power or position, the slippery slope has begun.  The remedy?  Love.

While evil is willing to hurt or destroy anything and anyone to protect or promote itself, love is just the opposite.  Love willfully sacrifices itself  for the benefit of others, and no One lived that definition better than Jesus Himself.  He’s got the nail scars to prove it.  And He can bring that love to life inside each and everyone of us if we’ll just let Him.

So the question for you and me is this:  have we started our own self-aborbed journey towards evil?  Deal with it now or you may find yourself starring in your own horror flick, with dead bodies all around you to prove it.

Religion is dangerous.  Sounds strange coming from a guy who co-leads a church, right?  But I’ve been around the block enough to have seen the immense damage religion can do.  Religion isn’t what God is about.  Religion is a spirit – a strong one – and it keeps people in bondage to a system, a structure, a culture instead of modeling a real, tangible, personal connection with God.

Religion is oppressive power cloaked in spirituality.  It’s stealth.  Religious people pray, read and reference their Bibles, and talk about God-things.  They hide behind pious imagery and position, but they reproduce death.

In Jesus day, the priests and teachers would stand in the synagogues and quote the prophetic scriptures about the Messiah coming to earth.  They longed for Him.  They prayed for Him.  But when Jesus literally walked into the room they hated Him.  Hated.

Jesus came to bypass their system.  God incarnate, walking among us, connecting with us in a personal way.  The religious system lost its monopoly, it’s power threatened.  And given the choice between finding the eternal fulfillment of all their internal longings or maintaining their religious system and power, they violently chose their structure and their culture over real life.  Religion always brings death.  Just ask Jesus.

The problem?  Religion is still on the loose today.  It’s rampant in nice churches, in classy spiritual leaders, in unsuspecting Christians.  It hides in the dark corners, waiting to war for it’s systems and cultures and destroy any hint of real life whenever it emerges.  Can you identify it?

Religion is oppressive.  Jesus is freedom.  Religion is about control.  Jesus is about empowerment.  Religion condenses serving God into a set of behaviors.  Jesus interacts with our lives in a real and intimate way.  Religion preserves itself at all costs.  Jesus gives His life away freely.

Which would you rather have?

Sometimes I’m less than honest.  With others.  With God.  Even with myself.  No, I’m not a compulsive liar, but I may need therapy.  And you may, too.

Have you ever noticed how often we can get caught up in should?  How should I think?  How should I feel?  How should I respond?  What should I say?  Not all bad, especially when we’re dealing with God.  Our gut reaction, our flesh, is usually not the best way to think, act, or talk.  God has standards for our lives, right?  And if some of you are like me, anytime you have a natural reaction that goes against what you know (or believe you know) about God, you stuff it.  You pretend you never thought it, never said it, never felt it.  That’s not how I should be feeling.  Get back in line.

And that check up isn’t all bad.  We want to be sensitive to the unfolding of God’s character inside of our lives.  We want to feel that prick when we step over the line or when our thoughts or responses aren’t pleasing to Him.  We want to submit our natural desires to God’s ultimate design for our lives.  But when we fail to disclose, or worse yet even acknowledge, what really exists inside of us, we really have no hope of ever becoming all God created us to be.  We’re less than honest.  We’re liars.

That veneer makes us fake.  Churches are full of people who are talking and acting like they think they should, and not necessarily as they really are.  At times our desire to conform to church cultural expectations can override what God really desires from us:  total and complete honesty and vulnerability before Him and with one another.

We’re all broken and damaged.  We all fall far short of God’s intent for our lives.  When we’re hurt, or fearful, or angry, or (insert your visceral emotional response of choice here), the best response is to be honest with ourselves, with each other, and most of all with God.  But most of us either hide or wallow in it.  We pretend we’re holy, or we swim freely in the bitterness.  Neither option works.

God wants to move beyond the veneer.  He doesn’t want us to falsely act as we we think we should, but to be as we really are.  And then, in the midst of that transparent honesty, to allow Him to mold and shape and transform us into what He desires.  But most of us won’t admit where we really are, or we’re just content to stay there.

King David was called “a man after God’s own heart,” not because He did everything as he should (check out 2 Samuel for yourself), but because he was completely open and honest before God (check out the book of Psalms for some amazingly transparent rantings).  He allowed God to transform who he really was.  God was able to do great things through David, not because he was perfect, but because he honestly allowed God to invade his imperfection.

God wants to violently collide with our reality.  Not with what we think we should be, but with who we really are.  Under the veneer.

Poverty sucks.  It didn’t take me too long to determine that.  Bet you don’t disagree either, even if you’ve never touched it, tasted it, or smelled it for yourself.  As I walked the streets of Las Delicious, a small shanty-town community in La Ceiba, Honduras, the reality of what I knew existed was literally all around me.  It’s almost as if my brain instinctively compartmentalized, packaging up the things it could process and eliminating the pieces it didn’t know what to do with.  No one should live like this…dirt floors, cardboard box walls, scraping for food, families of six all sleeping in a room smaller than my master bedroom closet.  But it wasn’t the lack of money or resources that bothered me most.

Hope had left the building.  There was none.  Nowhere to be seen.  When these little kids…kids with names and faces and eyes I could stare deeply into…when they look into their future, they see nothing.  Nothing.  There is no vision of better circumstances, of greater opportunity.  There’s no encouragement to discover the fullness of the “Imago Deo,” or image of God that is imprinted into their very being.  Creativity is smothered by lack of vision, and the untapped creative potential in these little faces was the hardest thing for me to digest.  They live in the slums, they are the slums, and they will always be the slums.  That is a recipe for hopelessness.  And that, my friends, is the worst of injustices.

How do we make that right?  I guess that’s the million dollar question.  I think it starts somewhere inside of me, with the realization that I actually have something of value to offer.  Money?  Sure.  Resources are imperative to solving this crisis.  But perhaps the single greatest thing we can offer another human being is hope.  That obviously starts with Jesus Christ.  But encapsulated in that is an opportunity and responsibility for me to help someone else look into their future and see what God originally intended.  To pull back the weeds, clear a pathway, remove the rubble that keeps them from seeing God’s vision for their lives.  I can do that in Honduras.  And we will.  But I can also do that in the lives of those I encounter every single day.  Will we?

Hitting the sack here in Honduras after a long travel day.  Two short flights with one long layover.  For the record, if you have 5 hours to kill, I would strongly suggest you not do it in the San Pedro airport.

Tomorrow we head out early to help with a new Mission of Mercy mobile dental clinic.  In the afternoon we visit the first of three future sites for MoM childrens centers.  City Community Church is hoping to get in the mix literally from the ground up here in La Ceiba.  We’ll meet the local pastors, get a hands on view of the area, and spend time visiting the homes of the families and children that will be affected by the presence of this center.  It’s sure to be a wildly emotional day.

Please pray for us, that we see clearly what God is already doing here in La Ceiba and know what part we have to play in seeing it become reality.  More to come soon.