Nice blasphemy, spoken between stories of one’s family, is more popular and better received by some professed Christians than plainly spoken Christian truth about sin and unbelief.

For some reason I always assumed false teaching would be unsophisticated, even crude.

This speaker’s message, however, sounded like a skillfully painted sunny day at the ocean. The water caressed the shore, the sun stood overhead, her rhythmic voice entranced as waves crashing against the shore. She painted with deep blues and vibrant yellows. She held it out to her hearers, most of whom welcomed it fondly, smiling and nodding with gratitude. She called the art “Christian.”

As I listened, I thought, What a charming painting. Yet the longer she talked, the angrier I grew. If it were uglier, I might have found more patience; hideous lies are less believed. But because this woman had not only painted over God’s Masterpiece of the hurriedly referenced but otherwise ignored verses of Scripture in front of her, she proceeded to pawn hers off as the original. Her followers seemed to be blinded to the horror in its beauty.

The Scriptures she was quoting did not teach what she did, but people fixated so much on the pretty colors and pleasant landscape, few seemed to notice. Man’s wisdom stood propped upon the isle; God’s wisdom was lost in the background.

That Hideous Beauty

Satan, I was reminded, is more the wolf from Little Red Ridinghood than modern depictions of Frankenstein’s monster. Instead of stomping around clumsily announcing his arrival, he dresses up as what he isn’t. He disguises himself, putting dark for light, wickedness for righteousness, down for up, hell for heaven. He lies down in bed appearing innocent, while trying to hide his fangs.

And so do his followers.

Such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is no surprise if his servants, also, disguise themselves as servants of righteousness. (2 Corinthians 11:13–15)

Many of the most effective villains in the world are the best mannered. False teachers disguise themselves as servants of God. They’ve learned to mimic the walk, the Twitter-talk, and public persona of the elect. They appear very religious. They must, or how could they gain a following? They sit front-row in the synagogue (Mark 12:39). They tithe even to their most minute possessions (Luke 11:42). They pray longer than the rest of us (Mark 12:40).

Whatever is on the inside, the outside of the cup is very clean. They appear righteous (Matthew 23:25–27). They’re authentic to the touch, like sheep’s wool (Matthew 7:15). They sacrifice much in their proselytizing, crossing sea and land to make their converts, but end up with disciples twice as much children of hell as themselves (Matthew 23:15).

Should you expect, as I once did, to meet a false teacher who looks or sounds like one, you may wait a very long time. Neither Satan nor his best soldiers wear their own uniform. His wolves not only wear sheep’s clothing; they come to you walking and acting like sheep. They attend (and even lead) prayer meetings and small groups. Their etiquettes do not expose them. They bleat from time to time. They may even be sincere, not intending to deceive, perhaps genuinely believing their own message, but this does not make them any less dangerous. Wolves can be very polite, very disarming, very nice, and we may live in a time where they are increasingly difficult to detect.

‘It’s How You Say It’

This makes one of the common arbiters of truth today, even adopted by many within the church, such a perilous one: tone. Our flesh gravitates toward friendliness, inspiration, coddling, affirmation. Nice blasphemy, spoken between stories of one’s family, is more popular and better received by some professed Christians than plainly spoken Christian truth about sin and unbelief. Paint with rich blues and yellows, and it matters little what lies you tell; speak the truth, and you must keep your voice pleasant and unthreatening.

Read More