Jesus & Pot

"So... What do you think about smoking pot?"

That's the question the young woman asked me, an aspiring church-planter, as she leaned across the table in Worden's Deli where we were eating lunch. (Being a pastor to the unchurched has it's perks – you get to talk with intelligent, interesting people who aren't afraid to ask tough questions. I love my job.)

It's a fair question. After all, Scripture doesn't exactly say a whole lot about the demon weed (other than in Genesis 15, where it's God doing both the smoking and the pot – bet you didn't know that was in there, did you?).

So how would you answer her? What's the truly Christian response?

Too often, would-be followers of Christ say little more than "Bad dog!" as we wag our finger disapprovingly in the asker's direction. But is there a better answer? Can we say something more? What would Jesus say if he was the one answering? Be careful not to assume this question is a gimmee...

We need to start by considering what's NOT being asked – to ponder the question behind the question (the real premises are often unexpressed). This woman might be asking several different things, for several different reasons.

For instance, she might be saying, "Is God really concerned about what I do with my body?" If spiritual beliefs are primarily about some future spiritual state in some future spiritual reality, what's wrong with harmless (or consensual) pleasures in this present physical life? Does life in the 'here and now' actually bear any real connection with a 'future life' that is still to come?

Here (unsurprisingly), the Christian answer is, "YES! God does care what we do with our bodies." What we believe is connected to how we are meant to live.

Jesus doesn't come demanding just intellectual allegiance – he actually has the gall to claim authority over every inch of creation, over every breath we take. Jesus insists we acknowledge him as Lord ("the big Kahuna") in everything we do. That's why Paul can say (c.f. Romans 14:23) that anything which does not flow from faith-in-Jesus (or love-for-Jesus) is nothing less than sin, rebellion – it's wrong!

So, me wanting to smoke pot could be high treason – if I'm pursuing it for my own sake, my own little indulgence, in my own little corner of the universe where I get to escape, to please myself, to do what I want for a change, to be my own king. There is no private property or personal bill of rights in the kingdom.

But Paul's expansive definition of sin also cuts in another (very surprising!) direction – my NOT smoking pot could be just as self-serving, just as treacherous, just as wicked in God's sight.

(Yes, me choosing NOT to smoke pot could actually be a sin, too... it's probably been a while since you heard a pastor say that from the pulpit).

If you are using the fact that you don't smoke pot to feel better about yourself (or worthier than others) in the eyes of God, then Paul's definition of sin (above) applies to you just the same as to some dope smoking rebel. Anything that does not flow from faith-in-Jesus is sin. That includes faith-in-your-own-goodness, trust-in-your-own-righteousness. This is a very Christian nuance.

Of course, this woman might be asking a different question altogether: "Will God love me more if I DON'T smoke pot?" If my irreligion (bad behavior) results in God's wrath, wouldn't my religion (good behavior) merit God's favor?

Here (surprisingly?), the Christian answer is, "NO! God won't love you more if you don't smoke pot, or less if you do."

How can this be?

Far too often, Christians use "sins" like smoking pot (or whatever vice happens to be en vogue at the moment) as both a hammer and a ladder.

As a hammer, we hit people with their failures, right between the eyes – we point out their flaws, we withhold our approval (or give it) based on whether or not the person supports our standard of morality. We use it as a means of control. But Jesus doesn't deal with people this way – he tells them to trust in his goodness, not their own.

As a ladder, we use this same standard to prop ourselves up – we pat ourselves on the back, thinking we're the good guys, not like those filthy "sinners" (c.f. Luke 18:9-14 – "Thank you, God, that I'm not like all those other men: extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even this tax collector here. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get." You can almost hear him thinking: Don't you love me because I'm so good and holy and obedient? For Jesus, of course, the answer is No, I don't.)

Jesus reserves his harshest criticism for people like this (c.f. Matthew 23) – Whitewashed tombs! Hypocrites! He promises woe to these sorts of people...

You see, we can do all the right things, but for all the wrong reasons.

We can do what is "good" not simply because it is right and pleasing to God, but because we see it as an opportunity to use that "goodness" to make ourselves look better than others. (Jesus finds this attitude wicked – no wonder he was ticked off! And if Jesus finds such self-serving upsetting, you can be sure the Father's not buying it either...)

So in cases like this, where she's asking if God's love works like a hammer and a ladder (the way many Christians often unwittingly imply), our answer should be emphatic – absolutely NOT!

If you think God loves you more because you are NOT smoking pot, or less because you ARE, then you don't really understand the message of Jesus. You do not know what grace is yet. You don't really understand how the love of God works.

God does not wait for us to clean ourselves up. He doesn't give us a standard of behavior, a set of rules, dos-and-don'ts, and then lavish his affection on those who measure up, while frowning on those who don't.

Nope, his criteria is much simpler than that: Are you family? Are you royalty? Are you a son or daughter of the King? Blood really is thicker than anything else. Especially when it belongs to Christ, poured out for us. Jesus meets us where we are (but he never leaves us there). In light of this, there is a very real sense where it doesn't matter one whit whether you are smoking pot or not.

What really matters is this: Do you have Christ as your big brother? Are you clinging to him alone for all your rightness, looking to him alone for your approval from God? Because he alone is the entry point to God's favor, and he's not just the door – he's the house and the whole estate as well. Your allegiance to him (or lack thereof) is all that really matters. It's that simple. And that hard.

Jesus Christ IS the promised land. He is the bread of life. He is living water. He is what we are looking for in everything else (including sex, drugs, and rock & roll). He's not just for the sweet-bye-and-bye. Jesus delivers life in the here and now.

If I have Christ, God cannot love me more than he already does. Even if I smoke pot. But everything that pot is, any good that it gives, is just a pale reflection, a dim echo, pointing to something bigger and better and stronger. Something found only in Christ. And Jesus says those that truly love him will keep his commandments. They will lay down their lives for him.

So does God care if we smoke pot? Absolutely. And absolutely not.

Both statements are equally true. But which answer is fitting depends entirely on the question behind the question, on where the person asking it is really coming from. It depends on her context, her motive, her heart.

And to figure that out, I'm going to have to build a relationship with her first – I'm going to have to learn to listen, to ask good questions, to hear her answers, to discern what she's really asking. I'm going to have to learn to love her, not because she agrees, or props up my particular code of conduct, but simply because she is created in the image of God, and he loves her – even if she is still his enemy, even before she's got it all together, even while she is still a work in progress.

Just. Like. Me.

Even at my best, I am still a piece of work. I need to constantly remember that God loves sinners just like me, so much that he was willing to die for me. And for her. And for them.

I wonder how many of us are really willing to love those who are different from us, even if they never change or become like us?

Are we really willing to find our self-worth, not in anything we do, or haven't done, but simply in what Christ has done for us – to put all our hope and confidence in his work rather than our own, solely because we have put on Christ: by faith, we are his, he is ours, and nothing (not even pot!) can separate us from the love of God. What if that is the truly Christian response?

Maybe we all need to put THAT in our pipe and smoke it...