Legacy of a Lukewarm Life

You’ve probably heard about the guy that was asked, “What’s the greater problem, ignorance or apathy?” His response: “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” Many people today could say the same. If it doesn’t directly affect their lives, they have no interest. But is this as it should be?

Since I don’t know much about ignorance, I’ll focus on apathy – whether you care much about it or not. (Wink, wink.)

Despite the shouting, arguing and carryings-on we see and hear about in our society today, in reality we seem beset with an epidemic of apathy. We get this term from the Greek: “apathy” – “a” (without) and “pathos” (passion). We might get fired up about our favorite football team, whether we’re winning (“I love my team!”) or losing (“Fire the coach!”) But rarely does such passion spill over into our everyday lives and routines.

Sadly, this applies to too many who convene within the walls of what we commonly call “the church.” We sing the songs – or hymns, depending on how contemporary or traditional your congregation happens to be. Some raise hands, or sway, or shout “Amen” at appropriate times. There are those who even dance a bit in response to the music. But soon after exiting the doors and retreating to our real lives, the apathy – without passion – resets.

Imagine Jesus having to knock to receive
admittance into our hearts and homes.

This isn’t a new dilemma. In the book of Revelation, we read this listless, lethargic malady afflicted the ancient church. Addressing the church in the city of Laodicea, God says, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one of the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Revelation 3:14-16).

Another translation says, “I will spew you out of my mouth.” I like that wording better. It pictures someone drinking or biting into something very distasteful and without hesitation, spewing it out, no matter where it happens to land. Like unpleasant food, or sour milk.

But “spewing” was the effect. The cause was the Laodicean church’s apathy, being “lukewarm” – neither cold nor hot toward things that matter to God. During worship services, or small group meetings, the men and women might have expressed their love and devotion to the Lord, but outside of those gatherings, it was hard to find evidence of Him at work in their lives.

“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked” (Revelation 3:17). Tough words – but apparently directed to a bunch of folks going through the motions, whose hearts weren’t really in it.

We hear about children coming from “Christian homes” that go to college or get out on their own and, before long, disavow the faith they once professed. There’s much to be said about this, but perhaps in many instances it’s largely because their families were “neither cold nor hot” toward Christ in an everyday sense. Biblical values and virtues got lip service, but weren’t lived out on a genuine, consistent basis. Maybe kids who later reject the faith are living out that legacy.

Why is this? Even though followers of Jesus are increasingly targets of antagonism in the U.S.A., we’ve not yet approached the levels of persecution believers face in other lands. It’s easy, therefore, to feel comfortable – complacent – in our faith, never needing to count the cost and take a bold stand that might bear serious consequences. We’ve grown apathetic, “lukewarm” toward God.

I’m one that doesn’t like lukewarm food and drink. I prefer ice-cold beverages, and if my meal at home cools off, I’m prone to stick it in the microwave and “nuke” it for 15-20 seconds until it’s hot again. God feels the same way about us. He doesn’t want us to grow cold toward Him, but neither is He satisfied with lukewarm belief.

In the same chapter of Revelation, we find a verse we typically apply it to those who haven’t yet made commitments to Jesus Christ. However, the context shows it’s directed to people who already claim to be members of His family. “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20). I’ve seen paintings of this passage showing Jesus knocking on a door without an outside handle. Imagine Jesus needing to ask to be invited into our homes and our hearts?

How can we “heat up,” getting past lukewarm-ness? Sometimes it helps to hear someone tell a powerful story of what God has done in their life. We can read an inspiring book, or listen to heart-tugging spiritual music. But the best way is to spend time with the Lord in the Scriptures, as well as reflect on all He’s already performed in our lives.

The worst thing we can do is follow the example described in Psalm 78:9-11, which tells of, “The men of Ephraim, though armed with bows, turned back on the day of battle; they did not keep God’s covenant and refused to live by his law. They forgot what he had done, the wonders he had shown them.” Let’s not be like them. Let’s say no to “lukewarm.”

Nonchalant With the Divine?

You’ve probably seen photos or replicas of the famous fresco painting, “The Creation of Adam,” that adorns the ceiling of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel in Rome. This meticulously conceived work by Michelangelo from the early 1500s is one of the iconic creations in the world of art.

Books have been written about this singular treasure. Art critics through the centuries have been enraptured by its beauty, as well as its profound emotional impact upon all who view it. Recently, someone drew my attention to an intriguing detail in this scene depicted from the book of Genesis.

One of the best-known sections of the painting represents the hands of both God and Adam at the moment of creation. God’s right hand appears to be reaching out in earnest, desperately seeking to touch Adam, the first man. Adam, on the other hand (literally), seems nonchalant, his left hand almost limp, displaying little exertion for reciprocating toward the Divine.

If a caption were written, Adam might well be saying something like, “Oh, hi. How ya doin’?”

Perhaps in Michelangelo’s mind, Adam was just awakening, groggily becoming aware of what was happening. So in that context, the less-than-earnest effort displayed for reaching toward God might be understandable. But it occurs to me that this must be how God views how we feebly approach Him at times.

If you’re a parent, you remember how eagerly we’ve been greeted by our children when we returned home from work or an errand. “Mommy, Mommy!” or “Daddy, Daddy!” they scream with delight, running toward us for a welcoming embrace. By the time they’re teenagers, however, that enthusiasm is usually gone. We walk into the room and all we get is a shrug or “Hey,” while they stay focused on the text they’re sending, a game on their tablet, or the TV show they’re watching.

Sometimes we’re the same as believers. Early in our walk with God, we’re all “Daddy, Daddy!” – or “Abba, Abba!” to use the correct biblical term. But as months and years in our spiritual journey wind along, our excited greetings degenerate into a casual wave. The effort to get ready to attend a worship service starts seeming like too much trouble. Even though we know it would be good to devote some quality time each day to prayer and studying the Bible, it seems there’s always something more urgent to address.

That’s why I often try to remind myself that unlike Adam’s depiction in Michelangelo’s masterpiece, I need to pursue the Lord as eagerly as He has pursued me. “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

More and more it seems we’re living in a similarly “dry and weary land” where fervent faith isn’t “cool.” But that doesn’t mean it’s not important and shouldn’t be cultivated. Do we thirst and long for God, as the psalmist writes?

Taking a lackadaisical attitude toward our relationship with God, fired up only by the furnace of crisis and then soon cooled afterward, runs the risk of becoming like the church of Laodicea, described in the book of Revelation: “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! Because you are neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Revelation 3:15-16).

In other words, if the idea of spending time with God no longer lights your fire, check to see if your wood is wet!