（这周下过雨，几把伞还在门边滴水，桌上放着 Jack 顺路买的一盒甜甜圈）
一、基督徒让我失望的时候，我该往哪里去？
Tom：（把手机推到桌子中间，气鼓鼓的）你们看到没有，那个网上很火的牧师，被爆出来挪用教会的钱，还跟同工有不清不楚的关系。评论区都在骂，我看了半天，心里挺不是滋味的。
Jack：看到了，我室友还专门发给我，加了一句「你们基督徒不都这样」。
Tom：他这么说的时候，你怎么回？
Jack：（苦笑）我当时其实没什么好回的，因为……我自己也见过类似的事。我教会有个执事，平时讲道、带查经一套一套的，结果私下对下面做事的人特别刻薄，讲话很伤人，我们几个年轻人私下都说，宁可他别讲道了。
Amy：（Tom的女朋友，第一次来聚会，坐得有点靠外）那我可以说句可能不太中听的话吗？我不是基督徒，我是因为Tom才来的。说实话，每次看到这种新闻，我心里想的都是——如果神真的在，为什么这些人还能一边讲台上讲得那么感人，一边私底下这样。我不是想挑衅，我是真的想不通。
Peter：（叹气）这不公平吧？一个人做错事，凭什么整个信仰都要背锅？我又没让他去偷教会的钱。
John：（原本坐在角落安静听着，这时抬起头接话）你说得对，Peter，一竿子打翻一船人确实不公平——但我要老实说，神也不是「随便啦」的态度。圣经里有句话，是先知拿单指着大卫说的，说他犯的那件事，让仇敌大得亵渎耶和华的机会。神很在意祂的名被这样糟蹋，这不是轻描淡写的事。
Amy：（有点意外）等等，神会为这个生气？我一直以为，宗教嘛，反正劝人向善，做不到也没什么大不了，谁不是嘴上一套、做起来又是另一套。
John：如果基督教只是「一套劝人向善的道理」，那你说的没错，说到做不到，顶多算说话不算数。但基督教从一开始讲的就不是「一套道理」，是「这位神真的在意祂的百姓怎么代表祂」——所以你们对那个牧师的愤怒，某个角度上，其实是跟神的心一致的，不是你们太敏感、太苛刻。
Jenny：（沉默了一下，声音低下来）John，那我可以说一件事吗……我其实不只是「看到别人的事」而已。我高三那年，教会的一个姐妹知道我家里的事——我爸妈那阵子在闹离婚——她答应我保密，结果没过多久，团契里好几个人都知道了，还有人私下问我「你还好吗」，那种被当成话题议论的感觉，我到现在想起来都很难受。那一年我差点就不去教会了，甚至有一阵子想，如果这就是「教会」，那耶稣大概也没那么可信。
Peter：（有点意外）你从来没跟我们说过这个。
Jenny：（勉强笑笑）说出来才发现，我好像一直把「那个姐妹让我失望」跟「神让我失望」混在一起，分不清楚。
John：这个混淆，我遇到过太多学生有一样的挣扎，我完全理解为什么会这样——因为你认识神，很大一部分是透过那些代表祂的人，所以当那个人伤了你，感觉上好像神也在里面伤了你。但我想请你想一件事：那个姐妹泄露你的事，是耶稣教她这样做的吗？还是她自己心里那个爱说话、想显得自己知道内幕的软弱，在那一刻赢了？
Jenny：（想了想）……当然不是耶稣教她的，圣经里明明讲要谨守口舌。
John：那你看，伤害你的，其实不是耶稣的教导，反而是那个姐妹没有活出耶稣的教导。如果你因为这件事离开信仰，某个角度说，是让那个让你受伤的人，替耶稣背了这个锅，而耶稣自己反而是那个教她「不要这样做」的那一位。这不代表你受的伤不算数，你受的伤是真的，值得被承认、被难过，我不是要你现在就说「没关系」。但这两件事——「这个人让我失望」和「神/信仰是假的」——是两件不同的事，值得分开来看。
Jenny：（眼眶有点红）……我好像从来没有人这样跟我讲过，我以为伤我的和信仰是一回事。
Amy：（若有所思，插话）可是……John，我还是没完全被说服。你说「伤害你的不是耶稣的教导」，这个逻辑我懂。但站在我这个外人的角度，我看到的不是「一个姐妹没做好」，我看到的是——这种事在教会里好像特别常见，八卦、议论、拉帮结派，跟我们宿舍楼那些事其实没什么两样。如果基督徒跟普通人一样会做这些事，那我为什么要多花时间搞清楚耶稣是谁，直接过我自己的生活不是一样吗？
John：（没有回避）这是个很诚实的问题，Amy，谢谢你愿意说出来。我等一下想跟大家一起把这个问题往下挖一层，因为它其实比「这个牧师做错事」更根本——它问的是，如果基督徒本来就会犯错，那基督教到底还有什么用。这个我们下半场会专门谈，先让我把这半场剩下的事说完，好吗？
Amy：（点头）好。
Jack：（想了想，换个角度）那老一辈基督徒呢？我不是说泄密那种事，是……我家教会几个长辈，天天拿他们那一套标准要求我——该读什么专业，说CS、Business才算「祝福家人」，我要是说自己对别的感兴趣，他们就摇头叹气；交朋友也要管，说这个太世俗、那个教会不够「纯正」。我知道他们是关心我，但那种被审判的感觉，真的很压抑，有时候比外面那些丑闻更让我想离开教会。
Tom：（半开玩笑，带点课堂腔调）说到这个，我们Sociology课上讲过，每一代人的「道德标准」其实都是那个时代的产物，我爸妈那一辈觉得读CS才叫成功，是因为他们那个年代移民过来穷怕了，跟圣经没关系，是文化，跟我这代人根本不是一套价值体系。所以Jack你被要求，某种意义上是两代人的文化冲突，不是「圣经」跟「你」的冲突。
John：这个观察有一半是对的，Tom，我不否认这里面确实有很大一块是文化、是那一代人的恐惧和面子，不是圣经的要求。但我要提醒一句——「这是文化产物，不是圣经」这句话本身，也可以反过来问你自己：你觉得「该尊重每个人自己的选择」，会不会也是你这个时代、这个社会灌给你的一套「文化产物」，而不是什么客观对的事？如果什么都能被拆穿成「不过是某个时代的产物」，那你我坐在这里讲的每一句话，包括你现在这句，也逃不过这个拆法。
Tom：（愣了一下，没立刻接话）
John：我不是要否定你的观察，Jack这件事上，我觉得你的委屈是真的，我们要一起去分辨。一个笨但管用的办法——问自己，长辈的这个要求，是能从圣经具体讲出道理的，还是「大家都这样」「面子上过不去」「我们那个年代都是这样」。前者你可以认真考虑，甚至顺服；后者你可以尊重他们的感受，但不代表你要照做。福音给你的身份，不是靠读对专业、嫁娶对的人来的，是基督已经把你接纳了。你不需要用「让长辈满意」去换那个已经白白给你的接纳。
Jack：（松了口气，但仍有保留）……这个我需要回去慢慢想，毕竟我爸妈还是每周都会问我GPA。
Peter：那具体怎么办？下次我爸又开始念叨我该转专业的时候，我总不能当场就跟他说「这是你的文化产物」吧，那家里能吵翻天。
John：（笑）那肯定不行，讲道理的方式也很重要。我建议先不急着当场辩，先自己安静下来问：这件事上，我心里到底是「因为怕让爸妈失望」而顺服，还是「因为我真的信这是对的」而顺服？如果是前者，你顺服了也不会真正踏实，只是把「靠爸妈的认可活着」换了个说法。如果你发现自己是被「怕」推着走，那更需要先回到神那里，让福音先安顿你，再去跟爸妈谈，那时候你讲出来的话，才不是「我在跟你们对着干」，是「我在向神负责，也愿意听你们的建议」。
讨论：
这一场里，几个朋友聊到了网上曝光的牧师丑闻、Amy作为一个还未信主的朋友对教会八卦的失望、Jenny被教会姐妹泄密的伤害、还有Jack被长辈用文化标准要求的压抑。John提醒Jenny，「那个人让我失望」和「神/信仰是假的」是两件需要分开来看的事。请讨论：
1) 想一想，身边有没有让你对教会、对基督徒失望甚至受伤的人或事——可能是网上看到的，也可能是像Jenny、Jack那样很贴身的经历，甚至是像Amy一样，作为旁观者对教会某些行为感到失望。那件事，在你心里，多大程度上是「某个人让我失望」，多大程度上又悄悄变成了「所以信仰本身也不可信」？
2) 愿意的话，跟大家说说是什么事，以及你现在怎么看这两者之间的关系。
二、如果基督徒都这样，还有盼望吗？
Tom：（半开玩笑，半认真）行吧，那我接着上半场没问完的问题——如果基督徒里到处都是这种事，从网红牧师到教会执事，再到Jack说的长辈，那是不是刚好证明了，这套「信仰」从头到尾就是场骗局？我们Poli Sci的Seminar上礼拜刚好在讲这个，教授说所谓「道德」「善恶」，从头到尾都是权力的游戏，谁掌握话语权，谁就定义什么是罪、什么是圣洁，宗教史上到处都是这种双标——十字军、宗教裁判所，历史上这种例子一大把。基督徒骂别人罪，自己犯罪的时候一堆借口，这不正好印证了？
Jack：（点头附和）我是觉得，至少这说明，「信」跟「行」是两回事，光有一套漂亮的道理没用。
Amy：（认真地）我同意Tom。而且说实话，我觉得如果一套东西讲得再好听，做的人做不到，那这套东西对我来说就没有实际意义。我不需要一套「理论上完美」的东西，我需要看得见、摸得着的东西。
John：（没有立刻反驳）Tom、Amy，我想先问一件事——Tom你刚才用了「双标」「骗局」这两个词，你在说那个牧师、那些长辈的时候，心里是真的觉得他们做错了，还是只是「他们被抓到了，输了这场权力游戏」？
Tom：（愣了一下）……当然是真的觉得他们做错了。
John：那我想请你想清楚一件事——如果道德真的只是权力的游戏，谁掌握话语权谁说了算，那你刚才那句「他们做错了」，凭什么成立？如果一切只是权力，那牧师赢了就是赢了，你现在骂他，不也是想抢回话语权而已吗？你的愤怒里面，其实藏着一个你自己都没有意识到的假设——真的有一种「不该这样对人」的标准，不是谁力气大谁说了算。
Tom：（皱眉，想反驳但一时说不出）……那也可能只是我自己也在玩这场权力游戏，我在道德上占领高地而已。
John：这个说法你也可以套用在任何一句话上，包括你自己说的每一句话——包括你现在讲的这套「一切都是权力」的理论。如果什么都能被解释成「只是想抢话语权」，那你这句话本身，是不是也只是你想抢话语权？这套理论一旦彻底套用到底，它会连自己都吃掉，没有一句话能站得住，包括它自己。我不是要跟你辩赢，是想让你看到——你今天那股「这不公平」的感觉，其实不是因为你信了什么理论，是因为你心里，一直都知道有一种「不该这样」的真实标准，这标准不是你发明的，也不是那个牧师发明的，是你们两个都要向它交账的。
Amy：（沉默了一下）……可我还是觉得，就算真的有这样一个标准，那也不代表这个标准就是「基督教说的那个神」。也可能只是人类演化出来的、为了群体能活下去的一套本能而已，跟神没关系。
John：这个问题问得很好，我没办法在这半小时里跟你讲完整套论证，但我可以给你一个方向想——如果道德真的只是演化出来的、为了让群体活下去的本能，那它的作用就该是「有用」，不是「真」。可你我在说「那个牧师做错了」的时候，讲的不是「这样做对群体存续不利」，是「这样做本身就是不该的，哪怕对群体有利也不该」。演化能给你「有用」的本能，给不出「不该」这种超出利益计算的真实感。你我心里那种「不该」的分量，比一套生存本能重得多，这份重量，从哪里来的，是我想留给你们回去自己想的问题——我今天没办法替你们信，但我想让你们看清楚，这不是一个可以轻轻带过的问题。
Peter：（若有所思）所以……我们对那些人生气，其实不是「反对信仰」，反而恰恰是因为信仰里那个「神在意公义」的标准，已经在我们心里了？
John：对，而且这也直接回答了你的问题，Tom——基督教从来没说过信了就不会再犯罪，圣经讲的刚好相反。我要说一件我今天还没说的事：Peter，上个月小组作业，你们组有个不信主的同学，工作分配特别不均，你心里其实很不爽，但嘴上没说，反而在他不在的时候，跟另外两个组员吐槽他「态度有问题」，这事你还记得吗？
Peter：（有点尴尬）你怎么知道这个……对，我记得，后来那个同学不知道怎么听说了，我们后面合作就很尴尬，我那天晚上想，我平时嘴上说自己是基督徒，结果做的事，跟我们今天骂的那个牧师，其实是一个性质。
Jenny：（叹气）我也是，说实话我室友知道我是基督徒，但她从来没跟我提过信仰的事，我猜她大概觉得「基督徒也就那样」，因为她好几次看到我因为due赶不完在崩溃大哭，情绪很差的时候讲话也很冲，跟我平时在团契的样子完全不一样。有一次她还半开玩笑地说：「你们信主的不是应该更平安吗，怎么比我压力还大。」我当时笑笑带过去了，但心里挺不是滋味的。
Tom：（半开玩笑，半认真）所以我们今天骂的那个牧师，跟Peter、Jenny，其实半斤八两？
John：（不回避）某个角度说，是的，程度不一样，但性质是一样的——都是自己嘴上信的，跟实际活出来的，对不上。我们今天骂那个牧师、那个执事，很容易，因为他们的事被摆到台面上了；但每一个信主的人，包括在座每一位、也包括我自己，身上都有这个落差，只是有没有被人看见而已。说个不太光彩的事给你们壮壮胆——我上周开车被加塞，路怒到差点在Broadway上追那辆车，追到一半突然意识到我车上挂着团契的名牌，那一刻真的很想找个地缝钻进去。所以不是我站在这里居高临下地讲道理，我自己昨天可能才刚犯完。
Jack：那这样是不是说明，基督教就是没用的？信了这么久，还是这样，那信跟不信有什么差别？
John：这就是我想澄清的地方——十九世纪普林斯顿神学院有一位神学家叫贺智（Charles Hodge），他讲过一个很重要的区分，叫「有形的教会」和「无形的教会」。大意是——我们眼睛能看见的教会，也就是每周聚会、报名受洗、挂名会友的那个群体，里面一定会混杂着真信和假信的人，这是没办法在这辈子彻底分清楚的；但「无形的教会」，是神自己认识、真正重生得救的那一群人，这个名单只有神知道。他讲这个不是要我们对有形教会失望，是要提醒我们，不要把「这个人挂名是基督徒」直接等同于「这个人真的重生了」，那个牧师的事被揭发，恰恰说明教会从来不是靠「筛掉坏人」来证明自己是真的，是靠福音本身。
Jenny：那这不是更让人绝望吗？如果连教会里的人都分不清真假，那到底要怎么样才算「活出信仰」？
John：贺智讲这个区分，不是要让你对每个人都心生怀疑，是要把你从「靠教会里的人有多完美，来判断信仰是不是真的」这个死胡同里拉出来。骄傲、爱面子、论断人、贪心、情绪失控，这些根在信主的人身上都还在，只是这一刻从这个人身上冒出来，下一刻可能从另一个人身上冒出来，我自己也不例外。这不是给谁开脱的理由，是要你们看清楚——不该因为「教会里还有罪」就震惊，反而应该震惊的是，神竟然愿意跟一群这样的人立约、住在他们中间。基督教从来没说信了就不会再犯罪，它讲的刚好相反——是因为知道人人都有罪，所以福音才不是「你要表现好，神才要你」，是「你还在罪中的时候，基督已经为你死了」。如果哪天教会里全是完人，那才真的说明这套道理是假的，因为它自己讲的就是「这是一群蒙恩的罪人」，不是「这是一群完美的人」。
Amy：（想了想，语气软下来）……这个说法我倒是第一次听到，跟我以前想的「宗教就是要教人变好」不太一样。听起来你们讲的，好像重点根本不在「谁表现更好」。
John：对，重点从来不在「谁表现更好」，是在「谁愿意承认自己撑不住、需要被接住」。这也是为什么Amy你今天看到的这些让你失望的事，我不会叫你「多给点时间就好了」，我反而想请你问一个更前面的问题——如果连基督徒自己都承认「我们做不到」，那你觉得，一个「承认自己做不到、却相信有人替他做到了」的信仰，跟一个「假装自己做得到」的信仰，哪一个更值得你认真考虑？
Amy：（沉默）……我需要再想想，这个问题跟我原来想的方向不太一样。
Tom：（沉默一下，没有反驳，只是若有所思）……这个说法我倒是第一次听到有人这么讲，之前听到的都是「基督徒要做光做盐、做好榜样」，从来没人跟我说「教会本来就是一群还在犯罪的人」。
John：会做光做盐，是因为被恩典改变了，这是真的，我不是要否定这个。但那不是靠我们表演出来的，是恩典慢慢做的工，而且永远做不完，这辈子都做不完。
（门被轻轻推开，Grace走进来，眼睛有点红，大家都安静下来）
Grace：（声音有点哑）不好意思，我来晚了……我奶奶昨天晚上突然走了，心脏的事，很突然，我人在这边都没能回去。
Jenny：（马上起身，扶她坐下）Grace……你还好吗？要不要先坐一下？
Grace：（勉强笑了一下）我没事，就是……我其实不知道自己现在是什么感觉，一会儿觉得很难过，一会儿又觉得很麻木，坐在这里听你们说话，突然就绷不住了。
Peter：（有点手足无措，看向John）我们……要不要说点什么安慰她？
John：（对Peter摇摇头，然后对Grace）Grace，你不需要现在就整理好情绪，也不需要现在给我们一个「答案」，我们就在这里陪着你。
（沉默了几秒）
Grace：（低声）我这几天脑子里一直转一个问题……我奶奶信主信了快五十年，教会里的人都知道她，很多人的信仰都是被她带出来的。可就是这样一个人，走的时候，家里人一个都没在旁边，是保姆发现的。我不是不信神有主权，可我心里就是忍不住问——神，祢真的顾念她吗？她这么爱祢，祢就让她这样孤零零地走？
Tom：（本想说点什么鼓励的话，但看John没开口，也没接话）
John：（没有立刻回答，过了几秒才开口）Grace，我没有一个能马上让这个问题消失的答案，如果有人现在跟你说「一切都有神的美意」，我完全理解你可能会想直接走出这个房间。
Grace：（苦笑）……是有人这么跟我说过，我当时真的很想直接挂电话。
John：我想说的，可能没那么有安慰效果，但我觉得是真的——耶稣自己的朋友拉撒路死的时候，圣经记着，耶稣哭了。祂不是不知道自己马上要让拉撒路复活，祂完全知道，可祂还是站在坟墓前哭。神不是站在远处看着我们的痛苦、冷冷地说这一切都在计划之中，祂自己进到了这个痛苦里面，甚至后来自己也死了。
Jenny：（小声）可这解决不了「为什么」的问题啊……为什么神不能让她走的时候，身边有人陪着？
John：这个「为什么」，我今天没办法给你们一个完整的答案，我也不想装作我有。神的主权跟神的良善，从来不是圣经里一道能被我们完全算清楚的数学题，我们只能看见拼图的一小块，看不见全部。我能说的是，神没有承诺我们，爱祂的人就不会经历这样的事，祂承诺的是——不管这件事有多痛，祂都在里面，而且十字架已经证明了，祂不是一个对苦难无动于衷的神，祂自己承受过最深的孤单，被父离弃、被门徒抛下、独自死去。有一天，所有这些不能被人回答的「为什么」，会有一个最终的交代，那一天以前，我们能做的，是彼此陪着，像今天这样。
Peter：（迟疑地）Grace，那……你现在需要我们做什么？
Grace：（想了想）不需要你们说什么让我立刻好起来的话，就……让我今天可以在这里哭一下，不用马上就没事，就好。
（大家安静地坐着，Jenny轻轻握住Grace的手）
Amy：（轻声，有点犹豫）我可以留下来一起坐一会儿吗？我没有信主，不知道该说什么，但我不想现在就走。
Grace：（看向她，点点头）谢谢你。
John：（过了一会儿，轻声）我们可以为Grace的奶奶、为Grace的家人祷告，不是求一个「为什么」的答案，是求神此刻就在Grace心里，陪着她走过这几天。
讨论：
这一场从Tom提出「道德只是权力游戏，基督教是骗局」的说法开始，到Amy作为旁观者质疑「说得好听做不到就没意义」，再到Peter、Jenny承认自己私下的言行也曾让人对信仰失望，再到Grace带着奶奶骤逝的消息来到团契、John没有给答案只是陪着她。请讨论：
1) 这一路听下来，从「别人的虚伪证明信仰是假的」，到「我自己可能也是让人失望的那一个」，再到「苦难临到一个爱神的人身上，神在哪里」——哪一段最戳中你？
2) 愿意的话，跟大家说说为什么，以及你希望自己接下来怎么去回应它。
Lesson 2: Why Do Some Christians Disappoint Me? — Sin and Grace
(It rained this week. A few umbrellas are still dripping by the door, and there’s a box of donuts that Jack picked up on the way sitting on the table.)
1. When Christians Disappoint Me, Where Do I Go?
Tom: (pushes his phone into the middle of the table, clearly upset) Did you guys see this? That pastor who’s been all over the internet got exposed for misusing church money and having an inappropriate relationship with someone on his staff. Everyone in the comments is tearing him apart. I’ve been reading it for a while, and honestly, it just leaves me feeling really uncomfortable.
Jack: Yeah, I saw it. My roommate actually sent it to me with a message: “Aren’t all you Christians basically like this?”
Tom: What did you say to him?
Jack: (laughs bitterly) Honestly, I didn’t really know what to say, because… I’ve seen something similar myself. There’s a deacon at my church who’s really polished when he preaches and leads Bible studies, but privately he’s really harsh toward the people working under him. The way he talks to people can be really hurtful. A few of us younger people have actually said privately that we’d rather he just stop preaching.
Amy: (Tom’s girlfriend; this is her first time at the fellowship, and she sits a little farther away from the group) Can I say something that might not sound very nice? I’m not a Christian. I’m here because of Tom. Honestly, whenever I see news like this, what goes through my mind is: if God really exists, then why can these people stand up there and give such moving sermons while living like this in private? I’m not trying to provoke anyone. I genuinely don’t understand.
Peter: (sighs) That doesn’t seem fair, though. If one person does something wrong, why does the whole faith have to take the blame? I didn’t tell him to steal money from the church.
John: (He has been sitting quietly in the corner listening. Now he looks up and joins in.) You’re right, Peter. Throwing everyone into the same boat just because of one person really isn’t fair. But I also want to be honest: God doesn’t have a “whatever, it’s fine” attitude about this either. There’s a passage in the Bible where the prophet Nathan confronts David and tells him that what David did gave the enemies of God an opportunity to blaspheme the Lord. God cares deeply about what happens to His name when people who claim to represent Him do things like this. It’s not something He takes lightly.
Amy: (a little surprised) Wait. God gets angry about that? I always thought religion was basically about encouraging people to be good. If people don’t live up to it, then so what? Everyone says one thing and does another sometimes.
John: If Christianity were simply “a set of teachings about being a good person,” then you’d be right. If you say something but don’t live up to it, at most you could say you’re being inconsistent. But Christianity has never been just “a set of ideas.” From the beginning, it has said that the real God actually cares about how His people represent Him. So in one sense, your anger toward that pastor is actually consistent with God’s own concern. You’re not necessarily being too sensitive or too judgmental.
Jenny: (goes quiet for a moment, then speaks more softly) John, can I tell you something? I’m actually not just talking about things I’ve seen happen to other people. When I was in Grade 12, a woman at my church knew what was happening in my family—my parents were going through a divorce at the time. She promised me she would keep it private, but before long, several people in the fellowship knew about it. Some people even came up to me privately and asked, “Are you okay?” I still remember how awful it felt to realize that my personal situation had become something people were talking about. That year, I almost stopped going to church. For a while, I even thought, “If this is what church is like, then maybe Jesus isn’t as trustworthy as I thought.”
Peter: (a little surprised) You’ve never told us about this.
Jenny: (forces a small smile) Saying it out loud makes me realize that I’ve probably been mixing up “that woman disappointed me” with “God disappointed me.” I never really separated the two.
John: I’ve seen so many students struggle with exactly that confusion, and I completely understand why it happens. A lot of the way we come to know God is through people who represent Him. So when one of those people hurts you, it can feel like God Himself is somehow the one who hurt you. But let me ask you to think about something: Did Jesus teach that woman to expose your private situation? Or was it her own weakness—the part of her that wanted to talk, or wanted to feel like she knew something other people didn’t—that won in that moment?
Jenny: (thinks for a moment) …Of course not. Jesus didn’t teach her to do that. The Bible clearly tells us to control our speech.
John: Exactly. So look at what happened. What hurt you wasn’t Jesus’ teaching. It was that woman failing to live according to Jesus’ teaching. If you walk away from the faith because of what happened, then in a sense, the person who hurt you ends up taking Jesus’ place. She becomes the one you blame for what you believe about Jesus, even though Jesus Himself is the one who teaches people not to do what she did. That doesn’t mean your hurt doesn’t matter. It does matter. What happened to you was real, and you have every right to grieve it. I’m not asking you to say, “It’s okay,” right now. I’m saying that these are two different things: “This person disappointed me” and “God or Christianity must therefore be false.” They deserve to be looked at separately.
Jenny: (her eyes become a little red) …I don’t think anyone has ever explained it to me that way. I thought the person who hurt me and my faith were basically the same thing.
Amy: (thoughtfully) But… John, I’m still not completely convinced. I understand your logic when you say, “The person who hurt you wasn’t following Jesus’ teaching.” But from the outside, what I see isn’t just “one person failed.” I see this kind of thing happening in churches all the time—gossip, people talking behind each other’s backs, cliques. Honestly, it’s not that different from what happens in my residence building. If Christians do these things just like everyone else, then why should I spend extra time figuring out who Jesus is? Why not just live my own life?
John: (doesn’t avoid the question) That’s a very honest question, Amy. Thank you for being willing to say it. I want us to dig one level deeper into that question in the second half, because it’s actually more fundamental than “that pastor did something wrong.” What you’re really asking is: if Christians still make mistakes, then what is Christianity actually good for? We’re going to spend the second half talking about that. For now, let me finish what we need to talk about in this first half, okay?
Amy: (nods) Okay.
Jack: (thinks for a moment, then approaches it from another angle) What about older Christians? I’m not talking about someone leaking private information. I mean… there are a few older people at my church who constantly use their own standards to judge me. They tell me what I should study. They say things like, “If you study CS or Business, that’s how you bless your family.” If I say I’m interested in something else, they shake their heads and sigh. They even try to control who I’m friends with. This person is too worldly, that church isn’t “pure” enough. I know they care about me, but being constantly judged like that is really suffocating. Sometimes it makes me want to leave the church even more than some of the scandals we hear about.
Tom: (half-joking, with the kind of academic tone he picked up in class) Actually, we talked about this in Sociology. Every generation’s “moral standards” are shaped by the culture of its time. My parents’ generation thinks studying CS means you’re successful because they immigrated here during a time when they were scared of being poor. That has more to do with culture than the Bible. Their generation and mine don’t have exactly the same value system. So in a sense, Jack, what you’re experiencing is a cultural conflict between generations, not really a conflict between “the Bible” and “you.”
John: I think you’re half right about that, Tom. I’m not denying that a lot of this really does come from culture, fear, and concern about what other people think, rather than from anything the Bible actually requires. But I want to point out one thing: when you say, “That’s just a cultural product, not something from the Bible,” you can turn that question back on yourself. Do you think “everyone should be respected in their own choices” might also be a “cultural product” that your generation and your society have given you? What makes it objectively right? If everything can be reduced to “just a product of a particular time and culture,” then everything we’re saying here—including what you just said—can be reduced in exactly the same way.
Tom: (is caught off guard and doesn’t respond immediately)
John: I’m not trying to dismiss your observation. Jack, I think your frustration is real, and we need to work through it carefully. One simple but useful way to do that is to ask yourself: Can this expectation from an older Christian actually be supported by a specific teaching from the Bible, or is it really just “everyone does this,” “it would look bad if we didn’t,” or “that’s just how things were when we were growing up”? If it’s the first, then you should seriously consider it and may even need to submit to it. If it’s the second, you can respect their feelings without necessarily doing what they want. Your identity in the gospel doesn’t come from choosing the right major or marrying the right person. Christ has already accepted you. You don’t need to earn that acceptance by making your elders happy.
Jack: (looks relieved, but still has some reservations) …I need to think about that. My parents still ask me about my GPA every week.
Peter: So what am I actually supposed to do? Next time my dad starts telling me I should switch majors, I can’t exactly say, “That’s just your cultural conditioning.” That would start a huge fight at home.
John: (laughs) Definitely don’t say it like that. The way you communicate matters too. I’d suggest that you don’t rush into an argument right there. First, take some time by yourself and ask: “When I obey my parents in this situation, am I doing it because I’m afraid of disappointing them, or because I genuinely believe what they’re asking is right?” If it’s the first, then even if you obey, you probably won’t have real peace. You’ve just changed the way you’re trying to live for your parents’ approval. If you realize that fear is driving you, then you especially need to go back to God first and let the gospel settle your heart. Then talk with your parents. At that point, what you say won’t be, “I’m fighting against you.” It will be, “I’m responsible to God, and I’m still willing to listen to your advice.”
Discussion
In this part, the friends talked about a pastor’s scandal that was exposed online, Amy’s disappointment as someone who doesn’t yet believe in Jesus when she sees gossip and other problems in the church, the hurt Jenny experienced when a woman at church shared something she had promised to keep private, and the pressure Jack feels when older Christians impose cultural expectations on him. John reminded Jenny that “this person disappointed me” and “God or Christianity must therefore be false” are two different things that need to be separated. Discuss:
1) Think about someone or something in your own life that has made you disappointed in, or even hurt by, the church or by Christians. It might be something you saw online, something personal like Jenny’s or Jack’s experience, or even something like Amy’s experience of being an outsider looking at the church. To what extent, in your heart, was it “this person disappointed me”? And to what extent did it quietly become “therefore Christianity itself can’t be trusted”?
2) If you’re willing, share what happened and how you see the relationship between those two things now.
2. If Christians Are Like This, Is There Any Hope?
Tom: (half-joking, half-serious) Okay, then let me go back to the question I didn’t finish in the first half. If there’s this much of this kind of thing among Christians—from famous pastors online, to church deacons, to the older Christians Jack was talking about—doesn’t that actually prove that this whole “faith” is just a scam? We talked about this in our Poli Sci seminar last week. The professor said that what we call “morality,” “good,” and “evil” are basically games of power. Whoever controls the conversation gets to define what counts as sin and what counts as holiness. There are examples of this all throughout religious history—the Crusades, the Inquisition, all kinds of double standards. Christians condemn other people for sinning, but when they sin themselves, they always seem to have an excuse. Doesn’t that prove the point?
Jack: (nods) I think at the very least it shows that “believing” and “living it out” are two different things. Having a nice set of teachings doesn’t mean much if nobody actually lives by them.
Amy: (seriously) I agree with Tom. And honestly, if a system sounds great but the people who follow it can’t actually live it out, then it doesn’t have much practical meaning for me. I don’t need something that is “perfect in theory.” I need something I can actually see and experience.
John: (doesn’t immediately argue back) Tom, Amy, let me ask you one thing first. Tom, you used the words “double standard” and “scam.” When you talk about that pastor and those older Christians, do you genuinely think what they did was wrong, or do you simply think they “got caught and lost the power game”?
Tom: (caught off guard) …Of course I genuinely think they did something wrong.
John: Then I want you to think carefully about something. If morality really is nothing more than a game of power—if whoever controls the conversation gets to decide what’s right and wrong—then what makes your statement, “They did something wrong,” actually true? If everything is just about power, then if that pastor has the power, he wins. And if you criticize him, aren’t you just trying to take the power back? There’s actually an assumption hidden inside your anger that you may not have noticed: there really is a standard that says, “You should not treat people this way.” It isn’t simply a matter of whoever has more power getting to make the rules.
Tom: (frowns, wanting to argue back but unable to respond immediately) …Maybe I’m just playing the same power game. Maybe I’m just trying to claim the moral high ground.
John: You can apply that explanation to literally any statement, including your own. You can even apply it to this theory that “everything is about power.” If everything can be explained as “you’re just trying to gain power,” then isn’t that statement itself just another attempt to gain power? Once you apply that theory all the way to the end, it eats itself. No statement can stand, including the theory itself. I’m not trying to win an argument with you. I want you to see something: that feeling you had today that “this isn’t right” isn’t simply because you’ve adopted some theory. It’s because deep down, you already know there is some real standard of “this should not happen.” You didn’t invent that standard, and that pastor didn’t invent it either. Both of you are accountable to it.
Amy: (quiet for a moment) …But even if there really is some kind of moral standard, that doesn’t mean the standard comes from “the God Christianity talks about.” Maybe it’s just something human beings evolved because it helped groups survive. Maybe it has nothing to do with God.
John: That’s a really good question. I can’t give you the whole argument in thirty minutes, but I can give you something to think about. If morality is really just an instinct that evolved because it helped groups survive, then its function would be to be “useful,” not necessarily to be “true.” But when you and I say, “That pastor did something wrong,” we’re not saying, “That behaviour is bad for the survival of the group.” We’re saying, “What he did was wrong in itself. He shouldn’t have done it even if, somehow, it benefited the group.” Evolution may explain why we have certain useful instincts, but it doesn’t by itself explain the sense of “should not” that goes beyond calculating what benefits us. The weight we feel when we say “this should not happen” seems heavier than a mere survival instinct. Where that weight comes from is something I want you to go home and think about. I can’t make you believe it today, but I want you to see that this is not a question we can simply brush aside.
Peter: (thoughtfully) So… when we get angry at people like that, it’s not necessarily because we’re rejecting Christianity. In a sense, it could actually be because the Christian belief that “God cares about justice” has already given us that standard inside us?
John: Exactly. And that also directly answers your question, Tom. Christianity has never said that once you believe, you’ll stop sinning. The Bible actually says the opposite. Let me tell you something I haven’t brought up tonight. Peter, remember that group project last month? There was a non-Christian student in your group, and you were really unhappy because the work wasn’t being divided fairly. You didn’t say anything to him directly, but when he wasn’t there, you complained about him to the other two people and said he had a bad attitude. Remember that?
Peter: (embarrassed) How did you know about that…? Yeah, I remember. Somehow that student heard about it, and things became really awkward between us afterward. That night I thought, “I go around saying I’m a Christian, but what I did was basically the same kind of thing we’re criticizing that pastor for.”
Jenny: (sighs) Same for me. Honestly, my roommate knows I’m a Christian, but she’s never really asked me about my faith. I’m guessing she probably thinks, “Christians are basically like everyone else.” She’s seen me completely break down because I couldn’t finish an assignment before the deadline, and when I’m stressed I can be really harsh with people. I’m completely different from the person she sees at fellowship. One time she even joked, “Aren’t Christians supposed to have more peace? Why do you seem more stressed than I am?” I laughed it off at the time, but it really bothered me.
Tom: (half-joking, half-serious) So the pastor we were criticizing today and Peter and Jenny are basically all in the same boat?
John: (doesn’t avoid the question) In one sense, yes. The degree is different, but the basic problem is the same: what we say we believe doesn’t always match the way we actually live. It’s easy to criticize that pastor or that deacon because their actions have been put on public display. But every Christian, including every person sitting here—and me too—has this same gap between what we say and how we live. The only question is whether other people happen to see it. Let me tell you something that isn’t exactly flattering, just so you know you’re not alone. Last week someone cut me off while I was driving, and I got so angry that I almost chased the car down Broadway. Halfway through, I suddenly realized I had the fellowship’s name tag hanging in my car. I honestly wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. So I’m not standing here above you giving you a lecture. I may have done something embarrassing myself just yesterday.
Jack: Then doesn’t that mean Christianity is useless? If you’ve believed for this long and you’re still like this, what’s the difference between believing and not believing?
John: This is the part I really want to clarify. There was a nineteenth-century theologian at Princeton Seminary named Charles Hodge who made an important distinction between the “visible church” and the “invisible church.” Basically, the church we can see—the group that gathers every week, gets baptized, and has its name on the membership list—will always contain a mixture of genuine believers and people who only appear to believe. We cannot completely separate the two in this life. But the “invisible church” is the group of people whom God Himself knows as truly regenerated and saved. Only God knows that complete list. Hodge wasn’t saying this to make us disappointed in the visible church. He was reminding us not to assume that “this person is officially a Christian” automatically means “this person has truly been born again.” The fact that this pastor was exposed doesn’t prove that Christianity is fake. It actually shows that the church has never depended on filtering out every bad person in order to prove that the gospel is true. Its foundation is the gospel itself.
Jenny: Doesn’t that make things even more hopeless? If we can’t even tell who in the church is genuine and who isn’t, then what does it actually mean to “live out your faith”?
John: Hodge’s distinction isn’t meant to make you suspicious of everyone around you. It’s meant to pull you out of a dead end—the idea that you can determine whether Christianity is true by looking at how perfect the people in the church are. Pride, caring too much about what people think, judging others, greed, losing control of our emotions—those things are still present in people who genuinely believe. One moment they may show up in one person, and the next moment they may show up in someone else. I’m no exception. That isn’t an excuse for anyone’s behaviour. It’s meant to help you understand something: we shouldn’t be shocked that there is still sin in the church. What should actually amaze us is that God is willing to make a covenant with people like us and live among us. Christianity has never said that once you believe, you will never sin again. It says the opposite. It is precisely because everyone is sinful that the gospel is not, “You have to perform well enough for God to want you.” It is, “While you were still a sinner, Christ died for you.” If one day you walked into a church and found nothing but perfect people, that would actually be evidence against what Christianity teaches, because Christianity says the church is a community of sinners who have received grace, not a community of perfect people.
Amy: (thinks for a moment, her tone becoming softer) …That’s actually the first time I’ve heard Christianity explained that way. It’s very different from the way I used to think about religion—as basically something that teaches people to become better. The way you’re describing it, the main issue isn’t really “Who behaves better?”
John: Exactly. The issue has never been “Who performs better?” It’s “Who is willing to admit that they can’t hold themselves together and need someone to hold them up?” That’s also why, Amy, when you see these things that disappoint you today, I’m not going to tell you, “Just give it more time and you’ll see.” Instead, I want you to ask a question that goes one step further back. If Christians themselves admit, “We can’t do this perfectly,” then which kind of faith do you think is more worth seriously considering: a faith that says, “Admit that you can’t do it, but believe that someone has done it for you,” or a faith that says, “Pretend you can do it”?
Amy: (quiet for a moment) …I need to think about that. That’s not really the direction I was expecting this conversation to go.
Tom: (quiet for a moment, not arguing, just thinking) …I’ve never heard anyone put it that way either. Most of what I’ve heard is, “Christians need to be salt and light,” “Christians need to set a good example.” Nobody ever told me, “The church is basically a group of people who are still struggling with sin.”
John: We are called to be salt and light because grace changes us. That part is true, and I’m not denying it. But it isn’t something we perform by our own strength. It’s something grace gradually works in us, and that work is never finished in this life.
(The door opens quietly. Grace walks in, her eyes a little red. Everyone becomes quiet.)
Grace: (her voice is a little hoarse) Sorry I’m late… My grandma passed away suddenly last night. It was a heart problem. It happened so suddenly that I couldn’t even get home in time.
Jenny: (immediately gets up and helps her sit down) Grace… are you okay? Do you want to sit down for a bit?
Grace: (forces a small smile) I’m okay. It’s just… I don’t really know what I’m feeling right now. One minute I’m really sad, and the next I feel completely numb. I was sitting here listening to you guys, and suddenly I just couldn’t hold it together anymore.
Peter: (a little helpless, looking at John) Should we… say something to comfort her?
John: (shakes his head at Peter, then speaks to Grace) Grace, you don’t need to sort out your emotions right now, and you don’t need to give us some kind of “answer.” We’re just going to stay here with you.
(There is silence for a few seconds.)
Grace: (quietly) There’s a question that’s been going around in my head for the past few days… My grandma had been a Christian for almost fifty years. Everyone at church knew her, and a lot of people actually came to faith because of her. But when she died, not one person in her family was there. Her caregiver was the one who found her. I’m not saying I don’t believe that God is sovereign, but I can’t stop asking… God, do You really care about her? She loved You so much, and You let her die alone like that?
Tom: (was about to say something encouraging, but seeing that John hasn’t spoken, he stays quiet.)
John: (doesn’t answer immediately; after a few seconds, he speaks) Grace, I don’t have an answer that can make that question disappear right now. And if someone were to tell you, “Everything happens for a reason, and God has a good plan,” I completely understand if you just wanted to walk out of this room.
Grace: (gives a bitter little smile) …Someone already said that to me. Honestly, I really wanted to hang up the phone.
John: What I want to say may not feel as comforting, but I believe it’s true. When Jesus’ friend Lazarus died, the Bible says Jesus wept. He knew He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead. He knew exactly what was going to happen, and He still stood there and cried at the tomb. God isn’t standing far away, watching our suffering and coldly saying, “It’s all part of the plan.” He entered into our suffering Himself. And eventually, He Himself died.
Jenny: (quietly) But that doesn’t answer the “why” question. Why couldn’t God have made sure someone was there with her when she died?
John: I can’t give you a complete answer to that “why” today, and I don’t want to pretend that I can. God’s sovereignty and God’s goodness are not a mathematical problem that we can completely solve. We can only see one small piece of the puzzle; we can’t see the whole picture. What I can say is that God never promised that people who love Him would never experience something like this. What He has promised is that no matter how painful something is, He is there in the middle of it. And the cross proves that He is not a God who is indifferent to suffering. He Himself experienced the deepest loneliness—abandoned by the Father, deserted by His disciples, and dying alone. One day, all those “whys” that no one can answer will finally have an answer. Until that day comes, what we can do is stay with one another, just like we’re doing tonight.
Peter: (hesitantly) Grace, then… what do you need us to do right now?
Grace: (thinks for a moment) I don’t need you to say something that’s supposed to make me feel better right away. I just… want to be able to sit here and cry today. I don’t want to have to be okay immediately. That’s all.
(Everyone sits quietly. Jenny gently holds Grace’s hand.)
Amy: (softly, a little hesitant) Can I stay here with you guys for a while? I’m not a Christian, and I don’t really know what to say, but I don’t want to leave right now.
Grace: (looks at her and nods) Thank you.
John: (after a while, quietly) We can pray for Grace’s grandma and for Grace’s family. We’re not going to ask God to give us an answer to the “why.” We’re going to ask Him to be with Grace right now and walk with her through these days.
Discussion
This part began with Tom saying, “Morality is just a game of power, so Christianity is a scam,” followed by Amy questioning whether a faith that sounds good but isn’t lived out has any real meaning. Peter and Jenny then admitted that their own private words and actions have sometimes made other people disappointed in Christianity. Finally, Grace arrived at the fellowship after the sudden death of her grandmother, and John did not give her an easy answer. He simply stayed with her. Discuss:
1) As you listen through this whole section—from “Other people’s hypocrisy proves that faith is false,” to “Maybe I’m also one of the people who disappoints others,” and finally to “When suffering comes to someone who loves God, where is God?”—which part speaks to you most deeply?
2) If you’re willing, share why, and how you hope to respond to it from here.
