Recently, Prime Minister Scott Morrison spoke at a conference…

for the Australian Christian Churches––

the Pentecostal denomination that used to be known as the Assemblies of God.

A number of commentators have written about various aspects of that speech…

which they have found disturbing.

Morrison seems to believe that Satan is manipulating social media to corrupt young people.

Now, if I believed in Satan––

which I don’t––

and if he were corrupting anyone…

then it would be a very different demographic…

by means of a particular media corporation.

But, frankly…

the less said about that belief the better!

Morrison also confessed that…

when he visits communities in distress…

and he hugs people…

he’s actually secretly practicing “laying on of hands”, and praying.

Now, personally, I find that more than a little tacky.

It may also explain why he’s having some trouble understanding issues of consent.

And I have some sympathies with Kevin Rudd’s complaint that…

in so doing…

Morrison “believes he’s not only the chief minister of the commonwealth but also its chief priest”.

Perhaps the most disturbing aspect… 

however…

was the suggestion that Morrison made…

that he believes that his “miraculous” election was a calling from God.

As a number of commentators have noted…

that clearly implies that God is politically partisan;

that, somehow, God’s purposes are being achieved through Morrison’s leadership.

Personally…

looking over his political career…

I can’t see any real evidence of that.

But that’s not my concern here.

I’m not really interested in critiquing his politics…

but…

rather… 

his theology.

And, although it’s not stated openly or blatantly…

the underpinning Scott Morrison’s theology––

like that of much Pentecostal theology––

is what’s known as “the prosperity gospel”.

Predicated on the notion of a God who is controlling, interventionist, and providential…

it regards success and prosperity as a sign of God’s blessing.

Thus, if one believes in God–– 

if one trusts in God––

then one can win seemingly unwinnable elections…

and one will be able to shape the world for God––

or at least a small part of it.

And, on the surface at least, such a theology seems to find some mandate––

or some justification––

in our reading this morning from the First Letter of John.

Indeed, the author claims:

“Whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that conquers the world: our faith. Who is it that conquers the world, but the one who believes that Jesus is the son of God?” 

 

Now, those of you who have heard me over the years…

would have heard me critique that sort of theology…

possibly numerous times.

I do not believe that there is any justification…

in a rational…

scientific…

modern or post-modern worldview…

for conceiving of God as controlling, interventionist, or providential.

But that’s not the only problem with that whole prosperity gospel grift.

At heart, it also embodies––

and encourages––

self-centredness and an excessive individualism.

But, in many ways, that can manifest itself in more subtle forms––

forms and tendencies into which many of us probably fall at times.

Christianity…

religion…

faith in God…

is reduced to a personal, individualised, self-focussed commodity.

It becomes simply a matter of personal belief…

even a satisfying personal head-trip.

Faith centres on my personal relationship with God and/or Jesus.

Faith centres on my experience of the Holy Spirit.

Faith is about meeting my psychological needs.

Faith is about me living a more fulfilling life.

Faith is about my personal morality.

Faith is concerned with my personal salvation and eternal life.

Faith is simply the relieving of all forms of personal, existential angst.

 

And yet…

when we turn faith into a personal, individualised, self-focussed commodity…

we are…

in effect…

denying what is most central to the Christian faith––

namely…

the incarnation of Jesus…

and the crucifixion of Jesus.

It is by means of the incarnation and the crucifixion…

that we learn who God is…

and what God is like…

and we discover what it means to have faith.

Speaking of his younger self…

Dietrich Bonhoeffer notes, “I thought that I could acquire faith by trying to live a holy life”.

Later, as he neared the end of his life, he claims that he had come to realise…

“that it is only by living completely in this world that one learns to believe”.

Faith can never be a personal, individualised, self-focussed commodity.

Rather…

it is only by immersing ourselves in the life of our world and its peoples––

with all of its suffering and joy…

pain and pleasure…

God-forsakenness and hope––

that we learn to believe in God.

It is only by immersing ourselves in the life of our world and its peoples…

and learning, by practical, painful experience, what it means to love…

that we truly learn to believe in God.

And I think, in that…

we are getting close to what the author of First John actually means.

When he speaks of having victory over…

or conquering the world…

he’s not reducing that to some sort of personal, psychological coping mechanism––

about learning how to cope with the crap that life throws at us.

But nor is he offering some sort of mandate for a messiah complex…

and encouraging anyone to think that they’re God’s gift to humanity…

or that they have been called to implement God’s plan or God’s will for everyone else.

We have seen far too many examples of the sort of damage that such deluded, theocratic ideas can cause.

 

Rather, when the author speaks of “victory over”…

or “conquering the world”…

those statements need to be heard in the context of his whole letter…

and, in particular, the theological point that underpins everything that he has written…

namely…

that ‘God is love’.

And that love––

he emphasises––

was incarnated and made manifest in Jesus Christ…

and especially in his act of self-giving and self-sacrifice upon the cross.

That, for us, is the ultimate definition and manifestation of love.

Love is not simply some sentimental notion…

nor a pleasing intellectual idea…

but something unconditional and unguarded…

genuine, practical, and enfleshed.

It’s a fiercely gentle, compassionately strong, embodied empathy.

And, when it’s deeply…

honestly…

genuinely lived out…

those who receive it cannot but be affected…

cannot but be different because of it.

 

In effect, then, what conquers the world?

Love––

impartial, incarnational, self-sacrificial love.

It’s the only thing that can!