If you notice the media’s coverage of this so-called “Gospel
of Judas,” they keep showing several old classic paintings of the infamous kiss
of betrayal Judas planted on Jesus Christ shortly before His crucifixion.
Another time in the Bible where there’s a similar lying,
insincere kiss given is in II Sam. 15:5 when Absalom steals away the kingdom
from David with a kiss. Absalom was feigning loyalty and love to Israel in
order to steal the hearts of the people away from King David.
Just after Judas Iscariot delivers his unholy kiss, Christ
identifies him as “Friend” in what’s an intentional reference to Psalm 41:9:
“Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread,
hath lifted up his heel against me.”
From the account of Judas’ betrayal in John 13, we know
Christ had given him sop, or bread, “and after the sop Satan entered into
(Judas).”
When the Apostle Paul tells the Corinthians to “greet one
another with a holy kiss,” he means to be genuinely caring and not a phony like
Judas and Absalom.
“He’s saying, ‘Salute one another with a sincere honest
greeting,’ ” explains my pastor, Richard Jordan (Shorewood Bible Church,
Rolling Meadows, Ill.), in a sermon I have on tape. “He's talking about having
a genuine honest heart toward people. He’s saying, ‘Don't be like Absalom.
Don't just try to win ’em with a friendly name tag and, ‘Welcome!’ ”
By example, Jordan told of a young married couple in his
congregation who, upon first coming to believe in the gospel, had decided to
attend a big evangelical church in their area. Upon attending their first
service they were immediately befriended by an older married couple who
happened to be long-time members of the church.
“This young couple told me how wonderfully impressed they
were at first, and how important they felt because this older couple—the man
was on the deacon board—recognized them and brought them into their home and
did all this stuff, but then after about six months, the (older) couple hardly
even spoke to them,” explained Jordan. “It turned out they had been ‘assigned’
to the older couple to kind of ‘get to know them.’ They were the church’s
‘welcoming couple,’ and after they had assimilated them in, they went on to
doing the same thing with other new people at the church.”
Jordan said he’s attended seminars in the past for preachers
“where they teach you how to welcome visitors, and how to keep them coming
back, and, ‘If you can get ’em coming three times, they'll just keep coming,’
and all this marketing stuff.
“But what happened to this (young) couple is when they got
on down the road, their eyes were opened up and they knew, ‘You know, those
people didn't really love us. They didn't really care about us. They were just
working the system.’ ”
In another example, Jordan told of a church member named
Stan who had gotten saved when a Hammond, Ind.-based church’s bus ministry
pulled into his rough neighborhood in Chicago one Saturday morning and the
driver got out and knocked on his door as part of a canvassing of the
residential streets.
“He introduced Stan to the gospel and Stan got saved,” says
Jordan. “Stan began taking the bus an hour’s drive into Hammond and was real
excited, praising the Lord. Then, after about two months, he found out the
reason that bus captain was out winning people to Christ, filling his bus and
taking them to his church, was because he was trying to win a cruise to the
Caribbean.”
In a cover story I saved from the New York Times Sunday magazine a year ago,
there was a profile of a growing mega-church in Surprise, Ariz., called
Radiant, which unabashedly employed marketing techniques from the Rev. Rick
Warren’s wildly influential manual for churches, “The Purpose-Driven Church.”
In the story, it said the pastor, Lee McFarland, a former
high-paid Microsoft employee whose professed hero was TV mega-church pastor
Joel Osteen, actually moved to Surprise with church-building aspirations after
attending a Warren seminar.
“. . . Nearly all of the techniques (McFarland) has used to
build his church—the informal marketing study; the communication cards; the
self-deprecating, Everyman persona; even the untucked Hawaiian shirt—are taken
straight from Warren’s playbook,” the Times article reported. “This is not plagiarism. Warren doesn’t
copyright anything, and he describes his purpose-driven formula as an Intel
chip that can be inserted into the metaphorical motherboard of any church. Some
30,000 churches across the denominational spectrum now define themselves as
‘purpose-driven.’ ”
Further in the article, it revealed, “Everything about
Radiant has been designed to lure people away from other potential weekend
destinations. The foyer includes five 50-inch plasma-screen televisions, a
bookstore and a café with a Starbucks-trained staff making espresso drinks.
(For those who are in a rush, there’s a drive-through latte stand outside the
main building.) Krispy Kreme doughnuts are served at every service. (Radiant’s
annual Krispy Kreme budget is $16,000). For kids there are Xboxes (10 for fifth
and sixth graders alone). ‘That’s what they’re into,’ McFarland says. ‘You can
either fight it or say they’re a tool for God.’ The dress code is lax: most
worshippers wear jeans, sweats or shorts, depending on the season. (‘At my old
church, we thought we were casual because we wore mock turtlenecks under our
blazers,’ Radiant’s youth pastor told me.) Even the baptism pool is seductive.
Radiant keeps the water at 101 degrees. ‘We’ve had people say, ‘No, leave me
under,’ McFarland says. ‘It’s like taking a dip in a spa.’ ”