David Anguish
Strictly speaking, we cannot say that people today are not religious or interested in God. Polls show that the majority of people say they believe in him. Baby-boomers are coming back to religions they abandoned. New religions, coupled with the adaptation to cultural expectations by traditional groups, are met with a welcome response. Add various philosophical and meditation groups with their religious overtones, along with the general sense that so many have that we are not alone in this universe, and a pretty good case can be made that our society is in fact more religious than not.
But what kind of religion? Our title is adapted from Paul's visit to Athens (Acts 17:16-34). Though pagan in outlook, the Athenians were "very religious" (v 22). To use a modern term, they were seekers. But they didn't know the true God who sought them. Their consciences probably felt good about what they believed and did. We know that many of them saw nothing in what Paul said to provoke them to change (vv 32-34). Nevertheless, Paul knew they needed more.
It's easy to stir enthusiasm among God's people when the enemy mounts a frontal attack on fundamental beliefs. Let an atheist agree to defend his non-belief and we turn out in droves to support his disputant. Let our local paper report on a group of pseudo-scholars who tell us that the resurrection did not really happen and we are outraged. Let a news magazine favorably report findings of "modern scholarship" which challenge our understanding of the biblical story and we rise up in arms. But let someone suggest that such things are not the devil's best weapon, that there is a danger which threatens the church more because of its subtlety, a danger that works from within our ranks, and the response ranges from incredulity to derision.
Yet, if we learn anything from the history of God's dealings with his people, it is that the devil is perfectly content for us to serve a safe God who will allow us to mingle with the world and its practices. Over the over, the Old Testament prophets tried to win back a people who were very religious, who even worshiped in the prescribed ways, but who could not see that to follow God meant that they could not mix his ways with man's, that a clear choice must be made between God and mammon (cf. Isaiah 1:10-17).
Today, we see many who are the ultimate seekers. They mingle a dab of God's ways with this or that seminar or encounter group. They engage in meditation rooted in eastern religions, read their horoscopes for more than entertainment, worry about their yin and yang, and even what the crystals can do for them. They fill their lives with a hundred and one activities which give them satisfaction over a good day's work. Some of these activities are even associated with their church.
But they never let the only God of the universe get close enough to demand a real commitment. And so they wonder why their satisfaction is only temporary, why they feel compelled to attend yet another retreat or seminar, why the activities never seem to be enough, despite what they think the preacher promised.
"O God, You are my God; I shall seek you earnestly; My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You, in a dry and weary land where there is no water" (Psalm 63:1). "Therefore, repent and return, . . . in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord" (Acts 3:19).