Louie Giglio - Religion is on the Mic
We’re going to turn back a little bit today to 50 A.D. The church had just been born; Paul the Apostle was spreading the gospel story of Jesus throughout Asia Minor. He had been in places like Philippi, Thessalonica, and Berea, and then he had come to Athens. He had been invited by the Supreme Council of Athens to come and speak to them on a little outcropping below the Acropolis called Mars Hill. When he arrived before this group of leaders in probably what was then the most intellectually and philosophically sophisticated city on the planet, he had the opportunity to get on the mic.
When Paul got the opportunity among this leading council of Athens to be on the mic for a moment, they gave him the floor and said, «We’ve heard you’ve been teaching in the synagogues and in the marketplace, and people are buzzing about what you’ve been saying, so tell us, what have you come to say?» Paul did something miraculous: he preached a sermon lasting about a minute and 46 seconds. I say miraculous because that’s extraordinary, and you can laugh or say amen; whichever you prefer is acceptable. But isn’t it incredible that he preached this message that was very succinct and to the point, yet so powerful? Listen to his message:
He says, «Men of Athens, I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: 'To an unknown god.' Now what you worship is something unknown; I’m going to proclaim to you the God who made the world and everything in it. He is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. He is not served by human hands as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. From one man, he made every nation of men that they should inhabit the whole earth, and he determined the set times for them and the exact places where they should live.
God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. For in him, we live and move and have our being, as some of your own poets have said, 'We are his offspring.' Therefore, since we are God’s offspring, we should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone—an image made by man’s design and skill. In the past, God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, for he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. He has given proof of this to all men by raising him from the dead.» Amen. End of sermon; possibly the greatest sermon of all time.
To the backdrop of Athens, where so much of what we’ve talked about the last few weeks was on the mic, Paul preaches this phenomenal gospel story—short, succinct, and to the point but encapsulating everything we’re celebrating today—a message preached in the midst of an environment where, for sure, opinion was on the mic. We talked about that last week, and you may notice in verse 21 that all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas, so there’s a climate of «What do you think?» and «What do you think?» And we know opinion was on the mic, but we also know that fear was on the mic. How do we know this? Because he says, «When I came into your town, I saw all these idols, but then I saw an idol with the inscription 'To an unknown god.'» So, you were concerned about covering your bases and making sure any god you didn’t know about was also appeased, so you just had a catch-all idol to an unknown god because you were afraid you might have missed something in the first place.
Fear had somehow gotten on the mic, but the main thing on the mic in Athens is what’s on the mic today. That is, when Paul stood up to speak, he spoke into an atmosphere—an ocean, if you will—of religion. He says, when he comes into this story in the very first part of the paragraph, in verse 16, «While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols.» So when he starts his message, he says, «I see that in every way you are very religious.» In other words, in Athens, at that moment, religion was very much on the mic. These people had idols for days; they had every god they knew about represented, showing an insatiable hunger within them to discover, acknowledge, and worship something greater and more powerful outside of themselves. What they were affirming is what we all know: The ocean tide of religion has swept onto every shore among all men and women everywhere on Planet Earth.
In their situation, the mixture of opinion, fear, and religion had created a vortex that was pulling everybody down. «I don’t know; I’m looking for the right god, but there are so many different opinions, so many different gods, so many different ways to go, and so many different people on the mic, and we’re not even sure if we’ve got all our bases covered yet.» Imagine being in that climate, and then Paul arrives with this clarion message of the story of Jesus.
Just a little footnote here: we’re talking about 50 A.D., almost 2,000 years ago. Athens, Rome—these cities of power were also filled with religion. If you dial it back 2,000 years from there, you’re going to discover those cities were filled with religion. If you dial it back another 2,000 years, you’ll find those cities were also filled with religion. So when somebody tells you, «Hey, religion’s just a modern invention of man to try to control people,» no, religion’s been here since day one. You know why? Because God is the one—this message says—who gave life and breath to all of us so that we might seek after him, reach for him, and find him, because he’s not far from any one of us. Therefore, there is a hunger and longing inside each of us to discover something or someone that is greater than us, and there is a need in every one of us to worship and honor something greater and more powerful than ourselves. That something is driving people today all around the world, and everywhere you go on Planet Earth, religion is on the mic.
I always think back to being in Bangkok, Thailand. Somewhere around five in the afternoon, I was in a taxi. It was the summer; it was blazing hot. The taxi didn’t have AC; the windows were down, and I was stuck in traffic. I couldn’t even see the traffic light ahead; the cars were all jammed together, and a lot of motorcycles were cruising around in and out of the traffic. This one moped, coming between us, reached a point where the car next to us had gotten so close that when the motorcycle got right beside the taxi, it couldn’t go any further. So the guy stops, and at that moment, literally, this young man and what I assume is his girlfriend, I could have reached out the window and tapped both of them on the shoulder; that’s how close they were. They looked like passion, and I lit up immediately, thinking that these kids could be at Passion. They looked about 20 or 21 years old, and that’s the generation we want to see rise up and call on the name of Jesus and make him famous in their lives.
As I’m envisioning these kids in Bangkok being a part of the Passion movement around the world, no kidding, the girl on the back of the motorcycle turns and looks across the taxi I’m sitting in, and as she does, she puts her hands together on the back of the motorcycle, her complexion completely changing into a sense of worship and reverence as she bows her head and closes her eyes for a moment of prayer or adoration. I don’t know what was going on in her heart, but it lasted for 30 seconds or a minute or so. Then she opens her eyes; the traffic starts to move, the cars make just enough space, and the motorcycle takes off. Before the taxi goes, I’m like, «What just happened?» I look over, just to the right on this side of the road, and there is one of the famous temples of the city. I want to see more, even though I’ve been in several like it, and I find my way back there the next day. I go in, and of course, there’s a huge statue idol in the middle of this temple. People have been bringing offerings all day long; fruit, bowls of rice, and flowers—gifts to this idol.
In a moment of recognition, a girl that our movement believes can live for the fame of Jesus has religion on the mic. If we think about it, the whole world does—not just those we think about, not just atheism, which is also a religion, as in, «I’m good without God,» or «I’ve got my two or three idols, and that’s enough. I have my fame, I have my pleasure, and I have my riches, and that’s where I’m putting my hope and trust.» Or simply, «I’ve got my pregame ritual or my superstitions.» Someone has their lucky Kansas City Chiefs socks on somewhere in America today, believing it will make a difference somewhere in the process tonight. Along the way, we all get sucked into this idea that we can do enough to position ourselves in favor with God.
Religion, whichever one you pick or choose, shares some common tenets with other religions. Here they are: Number one, the goal is ultimately right standing with God. You can put whatever words you want around it, but what I think was going on in the heart of that young girl in Bangkok was she wanted peace with God, maybe blessings from God, but probably more than anything, peace with God. So at the top of the list in any system is «I want right standing with God; I want to know that if there is a higher power, or there is a God, or there is something out there, that we’re good.»
Secondly, every religion is predicated on the good works of man. That’s not to say that’s all bad, because even if your system is the wrong one, wanting to be kinder, more generous, a better parent, or a better neighbor can yield good benefits. But not if that good works is aimed at giving you right standing with God.
Third, every religion shares this reality: it has a system based on the teachings of those who are dead. This is going to be an important component for us in a moment.
Number four, the eternal outcome of following the system is to be determined; in other words, it’s uncertain. «I’m not sure if I’m there yet, but I’m working at it. I don’t know if I have done enough, but I’m going to do a little bit more. I’m uncertain as to where I am in the process, but I’m going to keep on keeping on.»
And then number five, which is the natural result of that: the motivation to observe the system comes from uncertainty. In other words, «I don’t know if I’ve done enough, so I’m going to try a little more. I don’t know if I’ve been good enough, so I’m going to do something else.»
But in the middle of religion, Paul enters the uber-religious city of Athens and preaches this amazing, gospel-centric message. The message was the story of Jesus. You kind of think, «We’re going to take a big right turn, and Jesus is going to show up and say, 'Let’s just discard religion and go a whole new way, '» but that’s not what Jesus does. Jesus understands that we do need right standing with God, and what Jesus wants for you more than anything is for you to have right standing with God. So Jesus came to Earth not just to be a good teacher or to perform miracles or to get a book written about him. Jesus came to Earth solely so that he could give glory to God by providing you with right standing with God.
He didn’t come to dismiss this idea that there’s a holy, perfect God and a way to get to him; he came to do something more amazing than that, and we see this in the Sermon on the Mount, the most amazing sermon of all time in Matthew, chapter 5. I love the way Jesus comes and steps into the story, opening this up for you and me. Matthew 5, verse 17 says, «Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets. I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.» See, Jesus is not showing up saying, «Oh, religion? Yeah, let’s get rid of that.» Getting right standing with God—having to somehow make things right with God—let’s just get rid of that. He said, «No, I’m not coming to abolish that; I’m coming to fulfill that. I’m going to do something miraculous in the process.»
At the end of this paragraph, he says something that stopped me dead in my tracks when I was about 25 years old. I will never forget this verse hitting me for the first time. He said, «For I tell you the truth; unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.» I grew up in church my whole life and was around the gospel story my whole life. I don’t know if I fully got it until my mid-20s when a verse like this came crashing into my world. I think, «What is Jesus saying?» He’s looking at this crowd and picking the most religious people in the crowd—the teachers of the law, the Pharisees, the ones who’ve turned the Ten Commandments into a lot of commandments—the ones who’ve taken the ten things we couldn’t do and turned them into hundreds of things nobody could do. He’s pointing at these guys and saying, «Hey, unless your righteousness is more righteous than theirs, you’re never going to see the kingdom of God.» A lot of people in the crowd were like, «Are you kidding me? They don’t even let me in their church! They won’t even walk on my side of the street! They won’t even recognize that I’m here! They consider me an outcast and not worthy to be part of what they’re part of! How am I going to be more religious than them?»
The dilemma hangs in the tension of Jesus calling you and me up, saying, «Unless your righteousness is more righteous than the most righteous-looking people here, you’re not going to make it into the kingdom of God.» Then He gives us this little insight and clue: «And I didn’t come to wipe out the law; I came to fulfill the law. I didn’t come to do away with what the prophets have said; I came to fulfill what the prophets have said.»
So what is this gospel story, then? If we’ve seen what religion is, let’s look at those same five elements through the gospel lens. The gospel, meaning good news—what is the good news?
Number one: our goal is the same as religion—our goal is right standing with God, which we call righteousness. We want to achieve righteousness; our righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and the Pharisees. Somehow we need to be more righteous than the most righteous people around. How do we reach that point? And what is righteousness, to begin with? If you dig under that word in Greek, you’ll find that righteousness is the verdict of God that says you are deemed 100% right in the eyes of the Lord. How are you going to get there if that’s the goal—right standing with God? If right standing with God is righteousness, and righteousness is being deemed in the eyes of God 100% worthy to stand in His presence, how do we get there?
Number two: this is where our paths start going in different directions—our gospel is predicated on the good works of one man: Jesus Christ. Religion is predicated on everyone’s good works.
Number three: our gospel is based on the teaching of someone who is very much alive. That’s what Paul said at the end of that little message in Acts 17: «And God gave proof of this man by raising him from the dead.» So we have a living leader, a living teacher, a living Savior, and someone that we can have a relationship with in this moment right now.
Number four: the eternal outcome for those who follow his teachings—Jesus’s teachings—is secure. In other words, when you lean into the gospel story, you gain certainty about your eternity.
That leads to number five. Then, the motivation to live out good works is certainty and identity. In other words, I’m not going to do all this good stuff in hopes that it will be enough; I’m going to do all of this good work because I’m already secure in Jesus, and because I have a brand-new identity in Him.
So how did this work? He shows us how it works in 2 Corinthians 5:21, an anchor text for our house, our movement, and the gospel story. Notice what it says: this is one of the most powerful things ever said about you in eternity—maybe even the most powerful thing ever said about you. You’ve got to get your heart and mind around this truth; you’ve got to get it somehow tattooed into your soul to operate out of the reality of this truth. We know from the verses above, it says, «If any man is in Christ, he or she is a new creation.» Something powerful happens in this text. We see the fulcrum of it in verse 21: «God made him"—the him there is Jesus; you get that from the verses above—"who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.»
What? So God is entering into the story, understanding that we couldn’t do it in and of ourselves, and so He does what none of us can do. Then we see this thread woven throughout Scripture from beginning to end. Even back in Isaiah, there’s that amazing verse that got quoted over and over when I was growing up in church, and I never knew how to put it into its full scriptural context. But Isaiah 64:5 asks the question, «How then can we be saved?» It talks about how God would show mercy, and then people would reject Him. He would come through again, and people would reject Him. He would show kindness, and then people would reject Him. Finally, the prophet says, «Well, how can we be saved then? Look at us; we’re a mess!» Then in verse 6, the verse that we must have quoted a thousand times growing up in church, «For all of our righteousness,» if you know it, just say it along with me, «is as filthy rags.»
Sadly, this was the end of a lot of our theology growing up: «All of our righteousness is as filthy rags.» But it’s true; what the prophet was saying is, «Look, we can’t do this; any effort of ours to gain right standing with God isn’t going to be good enough, because the standard is perfection, and we’re not going to make it.» Then you see in Isaiah 53, but there’s hope! That thread is woven all throughout the story. Isaiah said, «Like sheep, we’ve all gone astray; every single one of us has turned to his own way, but the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.»
You see this thread woven through the prophets into the story in the gospels of Jesus, and all throughout the New Testament, anchored in a text like this where it says, «So that in Him, we might become the righteousness of God.» If it makes you nervous that it says «might become» and that sounds like religion again, «might» here doesn’t imply uncertainty; it implies a fundamental change.
So I looked up the word because that word is usually a stumbling block for someone who says, «Well, I don’t know; it says I might become the righteousness of God, and I’m not sure if I’m going to become the righteousness of God, and so it doesn’t feel like I’m gaining the certainty that you’re giving me.» So I looked up this word «might.» It’s the word «gaenomai,» and it means a fundamental change in nature. In other words, «He who knew no sin was made to be sin for us so that we would experience a fundamental change in nature,» meaning we are now the righteousness of God in Christ. We have right standing with God in Christ.
The way to sum it up, religion: one word—"do.» The way to sum up the gospel: one word—».» You’re either going to do more and hope it’s enough or realize that Jesus did it all and it is already finished; it is all done. It’s the difference between living life and running free or living life on the treadmill of religion, hoping somehow that you’re going to make it into the presence of God.
You know anybody like that? Or have you ever been there? You get on that treadmill thinking, «I’ve got to go somewhere, because there’s something inside me that says there’s something outside of me that I’ve got to figure out. I was made for something bigger than me, and we know it.»
I was made to search and to reach—when translation says «to grope,» like, kind of in the dark, «I know there’s something.» But then what Paul said was, «and to find Him.» You know why? Because he’s not far from you. So you don’t have to have a two-mile-long arm to reach for Him; you just reach right there, because He’s not far from you. Because in Him, we live and move and have our being—that’s everybody on Planet Earth and everybody in this room right now.
What that means is there’s probably something inside you that says, «I want to make sure I do enough,» but the trouble with religion is you don’t ever know, «Was it good enough? Did I do enough? Did I make up for enough?» So since we don’t know, you know what we do? We do the same thing you do at the gym. You just find somebody else on the treadmill who’s not doing as good as you and say, «God, does it count that I’m doing better than him?»
He says, «No, no. The way you get right standing with me is not by doing better than him; it’s by being perfect.» You’re like, «Okay; better get the incline up a little bit, so I’ve got to make sure when it’s all said and done I’ve done enough.» This is a seedbed, if you want, of self-righteousness, especially when you’re looking over at that other person going, «Uh-huh; oh, you’re going up there? Okay, I’m going up here now.»
This is old school; some of you don’t understand what this is because it doesn’t have a monitor, and I’m not walking through the Swiss Alps right now; I’m just really right here on the treadmill. We were in Cape Town on the Passion World Tour, and I was in a lot better shape then than I am now. It was a lot of years ago, and I was biking a lot. I’d gone down to the fitness center at our hotel, and I was on the bike. I’d already committed I’m going to ride hard for a certain amount of time and be done.
So it was about five minutes from being done, and one of the guys on tour with us, one of our musicians, George Mandera, came in. I was the only one in there when he came in. So he walks in and says, «Hey man, how you doing?» I’m like, «Great; how you doing?» He said, «Good, I’m going to do a little run.» I’m like, «Great, I’m on the bike.» He gets on the treadmill, literally, over there, pumps it up to like insane speed, and starts sprinting. I’m like, «Oh man.» So I crank it down a notch and put my head down; I wanted to win. You know that I wanted to hear that, so I kept going, «Okay, I just passed my time!»
I can go longer. I go about 10 more minutes; he’s just running, and I’m like, «I’m not getting off this bike until you get off that treadmill. If I have to fall over off this bike, I’m not getting off.» I’m not kidding; like 30-plus minutes go by; I’m dying, and finally, he gets off. I’m like, «Praise God! See you later, bro.» I mean, the door doesn’t even shut at the fitness center before I’m off that bike, and I’m like walking back to my room, can’t even breathe, can’t sit down.
The next day, I didn’t say anything to him about it because I wanted him to think that I was a stud and that even though he was half my age, I really crushed him in the workout. So we never talked about it. About two years later—no kidding, true story—we’re sitting around somewhere in the world, and I’m like, «Hey, remember when we were in Cape Town?» I’m legitimately getting tired now. He said, «Yeah man, you killed me on that thing. I came down there to run one mile real quick and I got in there and I looked over and said, 'The dude’s like old, ' and I’m not getting off this treadmill until he gets off that bicycle.' I just kept running.»
Unfortunately, I started too fast, and I didn’t want to slow down because that would have looked like weakness. So I just kept running at that speed; even though I was just going to run one mile, at that speed, I’d run about five miles, and I said, «I’m out of here.» I said, «Bro, the second you stepped out the door, I fell on the floor.»
That’s what religion does to you. You get real busy looking at other people. You get real busy looking for somebody that you’re ahead of, and that’s not hard to do in our world. You get real busy looking for someone you can point to, saying to God, «I know I wasn’t everything I was supposed to be, but I sure wasn’t that.» But here’s the thing: that’s not what God requires of you. He says your righteousness has got to exceed the most religious person in the crowd. How are you going to do that? How are you going to know it’s enough? Because this thing is all about «do.»
That’s why when Jesus entered this world alive, through virgin birth, sinless, He arrived at the cross willing to exchange His innocent life for yours. When He got to that moment on the cross, He didn’t say with his last breath, «I hope I’ve done enough.» He did not say with his last breath, «I hope it was good enough.» He didn’t say, «I tried my hardest, and I was way better than these two guys!» No: when He got to the end and exchanged His life for you, He made the greatest statement of all time; He said, «It is finished!»
The treadmill is over. What’s interesting is that there is a benefit to getting on a treadmill, no doubt; you lose weight, you get in shape, your cardio gets better, and you start thinking more clearly. But interestingly, when you get off the treadmill, you’re right where you were when you got on the treadmill. Yeah, you did some work, but did it give you certainty of right standing with God?
This is a story of «do,» and Jesus has given you and me a story of «.» It is anchored in our last text, which is found in Romans 3, another text that we shortchanged a little in some of the circles we grew up in. Those of us who grew up in church know that Paul really gets to the heart of what we’re saying and makes it as clear as he can. Your question today should be, «If I can’t gain right standing with God on my own, but Jesus is coming to make right standing a possibility for me, how do I get that? How does that happen?» I want that, Louie! I’m right on the edge of my seat today, saying I’m ready to get off the treadmill of religion; I’m ready to cash out of self-righteousness, and I’m ready to step into this certainty of knowing that I have right standing with God. From that point on, I can go and live my life for Him.
Paul answers that question and wraps it all up beginning in verse 19: «Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore, no one will be declared righteous in his sight"—there’s our word, «righteous"—"by observing the law; rather, here comes the bad news: through the law we become conscious of sin.»
The Ten Commandments were not your pathway to right standing with God; they were God helping you see that you couldn’t even fulfill that. Paul goes on to share the good news: «But now a righteousness, a right standing with God from God, apart from the law, has been made known to which the law and the prophets testify. This righteousness from God"—there’s your key word, «from God, not from us, but from God—comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God» —comma, not period.
We wanted to park that baby for so many years: «For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God; the end! Thanks for coming today.» No! Yes, we’ve all sinned, and yes, we’ve all fallen short of the glory of God, but there’s a big comma in our story—the glorious comma that is in our story—followed by these words: «and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.»
I’m telling you there’s a right standing with God that has now arrived! It did not come from Earth to Heaven; it came from Heaven to Earth! It was not man-centric; it was God-centric! It wasn’t man’s doing; it was all God’s doing! It wasn’t man boasting about his ability; it was God boasting about God’s ability! A righteousness has arrived on the scene! It has come from God; it is apart from the treadmill! And how do you get it? You get it by faith in Jesus Christ to every single person who believes in him.
«Oh, I believe in Jesus; he was a good guy; I’m sure he was, and I believe in him.» No, not that kind of belief! The kind of belief that says, «When he said it is finished, it was done! Now, because of his good work, I have right standing with God.»
How can you ever get over that?
So a few takeaways: we’ve been putting some at the end of these talks just so someone can have a holy spirit moment they can put on the refrigerator or mirror or desk or on a page in their journal that they can breathe in over time. A few takeaways from today: If this is true that you have taken that step—from my righteousness working itself out into «I hope it’s good enough» or «I kind of just got sidetracked into—'I know God’s going to let me in because he knows I have a good heart'"—if you have moved from self-righteousness to God-righteousness, these things are true about you.
Number one: when I couldn’t do enough to save myself, Jesus did enough to save me! Amen! If one of these is for you, just give a little amen.
Number two: I don’t work for God’s love, but I work because I am already fully loved by him.
Number three: spiritual rituals can improve my quality of life. Please do not think today this talk is about not reading your Bible, about not praying, about not fasting, about not working out your salvation, about not being connected to the local church, and about not serving and giving. It’s not that message, but you’ve got to understand spiritual rituals can improve my quality of life, but only my Savior can satisfy my soul.
Number four: I am a friend of God. We talked last week about how we’re sons and daughters, and we know that we can call God Almighty Father. But you know what Jesus said? He said, «Hey, I don’t call you servants anymore because servants don’t know what their master’s doing. I call you friends!»
I’m pretty sure that young lady on the back of that motorcycle wasn’t thinking she’d become friends with that God, but Christ has called us the friends of God. I may not have any friends, but you’ve got one friend!
Number five: the enemy can no longer condemn in me what God has already condemned and crucified on the cross.
Number six: I love this; the church needs more of this: I am the righteousness of God in Christ. I need not compare myself against others to improve my standing with God.
A smattering of quiet applause. The truth is there are still a lot of treadmills in the Christian church because the enemy doesn’t fold quickly.
Lastly, because of this amazing standing that has come from God, I desire to be a carrier of grace, not a courier of guilt! In other words, I don’t see my main ministry as giving you a guilt trip; I’m going to let the Holy Spirit take care of convicting your heart. Oh, I’m not going to let go of the standard of truth; I’m not going to waver on the word of God. I’m just going to try to become a carrier of grace and not someone who’s got my treadmill all at the right pace just dispensing guilt every which way I can to everybody in my view.
These are the truths for you and me because of the finished work of Jesus: it is finished, and it is done! Religion has got to get off the mic!