Fear, Folklore & Christianity: Here we go again. No sooner had I finished writing a few thoughts on the featured SermonAudio message God is Dangerous, than another featured sermon appeared built upon much the same foundation. The full title to the message is: “Lost in Hell’s Darkness. Demons, Darkness, Damnation. Revival Institutes. E.A. Johnston.” At this point, I am beginning to suspect that SermonAudio has mistaken folklore for theology and storytelling for preaching.
What follows is not careful exposition of Scripture, but an atmosphere of suspense, mystery, and supernatural fascination loosely attached to a few scattered biblical references. Haunted houses, cemetery demons, invisible spirits, supernatural encounters, mysterious voices, and frightening anecdotes dominate the landscape. The remarkable thing is not that Bible verses occasionally appear throughout the sermon. The remarkable thing is how little they actually contribute to it. Remove the stories and personal experiences and the message collapses under its own weight. Scripture appears periodically, but largely as a framework upon which the stories are hung. The stories are not illustrating the message. They are the message.
Although I had originally planned to limit myself to general observations, the message itself leaves little choice but to quote it directly. The opening remarks serve as a fitting introduction to what follows: a steady stream of fear appeals, supernatural tales, personal experiences, ghost stories, demon encounters, and speculative descriptions of the unseen world. The Bible is quoted, but largely in the same way a movie might quote history before proceeding into fiction. As you read the following excerpt, ask yourself where the authority of the message actually resides. Is it found in the text of Scripture, or in the storyteller’s experiences, supernatural claims, and sensational narratives? More importantly, ask yourself what would remain if the stories were removed.
This quotation is lengthy, but it is necessary because it reveals the nature of the sermon better than any summary I could provide. Notice what occupies center stage. Not Christ. Not the gospel. Not the exposition of Scripture. The listener is instead immersed in a world of supernatural experiences. And this, we are told, is the preaching of the gospel.” > “Tonight we will discuss the reality of hell and the aspects of hell. Why it is a region of darkness and suffering and misery and you never ever want to go there. Get the wax out of your ears and listen to me this evening, friends. We are very confused about God and heaven today.”
That sounds serious enough. The problem is that what follows is not a careful exposition of Scripture concerning God, heaven, judgment, or eternity. What follows is a long succession of stories: > “There is an unseen world, friends, of angels and demons all around us. I once knew a Satan worshiper, and I asked him how he became a Satan worshiper. He took the time, a whole hour, to share with me about his life and how his eyes were opened to the unseen world. I’ll never forget it. I asked him to tell me a story, and this is what he said. It all began when he was listening to rock music, and one night, while listening to a certain rock album, he had a desire to pray to the devil. So he prayed to the devil and began to pray to the devil on a regular basis. One night in his bedroom, a presence came into his room. It was a demonic visitor. The demon had an ancient name, and he was hideous to look at, but he spoke with authority. He asked the young man if he wanted to go further in Satan’s kingdom, and he said yes. So the demon gave him instructions that evening that after midnight he was to drive his pickup truck to a neighboring farm out in the country where he was ordered to steal a goat and take it to a wooded forest. There he would build a fire, take a knife, slit the goat’s throat, and place the carcass on the fire as an offering to his satanic majesty. And if he did this, then he would be rewarded. The young man did exactly as he was told. He carried out the plan. He went to the farm. He stole a goat. He took it to the woods. He killed it. He sacrificed the goat to the devil himself. The next evening, this same demon entity visited the young man in his bedroom. He asked the young man if he would like to receive his reward for worshiping Satan. He said yes, and the demon told him he had the power to open his eyes to the unseen world. The demon spoke some ancient words in a language the young man didn’t understand, but suddenly scales fell off his eyes. His eyes were opened to the unseen world. This young man told me he could see demons everywhere. When he went to the mall, he saw demons walking beside the shoppers. He saw demons walking up and down city streets in a crowd. Everywhere he went he saw demons. He said that when he visited the city of Rome it was terrifying because he was shocked to see the city literally crawling with hordes and hordes of demons. I believe that young man was telling me the truth, and I know there are demons in this world. I know it for a fact because I used to live in a haunted house.”
This is not merely a quotation from the sermon. It is the sermon in miniature. What appears here is repeated again and again throughout the message. Frankly, by the time I reached the end, I found myself reeling and staggering like a drunken man, and almost at my wit’s end. Psalm 107:27. Where is the exposition of Scripture? Where is the unfolding of redemption? Where is the testimony of the Son of God? Where is Christ? Is this the revelation of God in Scripture, or the same ingredients that have fueled superstition, folklore, and ghost stories for generations? The apostles preached Christ. This is something else entirely.
One of the central problems with this sort of message is its source of authority. Notice how frequently, in the quotation above alone, the listener is asked to trust personal testimony rather than divine revelation. “I once knew a Satan worshiper.” “I asked him to tell me a story.” “I believe that young man was telling me the truth.” “I know it for a fact because I used to live in a haunted house.” The entire narrative rests upon personal experiences, secondhand accounts, and the preacher’s confidence in them. Scripture is largely reduced to a supporting role.
Suppose for a moment that every story in the sermon were completely true. Suppose the Satan worshiper existed exactly as described. Suppose the haunted house was genuinely haunted. Suppose demons were walking through shopping malls and city streets. What would any of that prove? None of it constitutes the gospel. None of it reveals the righteousness of God in Christ. None of it explains redemption. None of it proclaims the person and work of the Son of God. At best, these stories distract from the very truths a sermon is supposed to unfold.
One of the most damaging consequences of this approach is that it redefines Christianity in the mind of the hearer. Instead of looking to Scripture for the revelation of God, people begin looking for stories, experiences, manifestations, and supernatural encounters. The listener is conditioned to associate spiritual reality with the sensational, the mysterious, and the extraordinary rather than with the plain testimony of God’s Word concerning His Son. One cannot help but wonder what Peter or Paul would say if asked to evaluate such preaching. Would they recognize it as the proclamation of the gospel, or would they wonder how Christianity became so occupied with everything except its central subject? The New Testament is saturated with Christ. This sermon is saturated with everything else.
I confess there are moments when I hear things like this and simply shake my head. Not because the claims are extraordinary, but because so few seem interested in asking the most obvious questions. Where is this taught in Scripture? How does this reveal Christ? What does this have to do with the gospel? Those questions rarely seem to arise, even though they ought to be the first questions asked. In truth, I would much rather be writing about Christ. I would much rather be considering the glory of His person, the sufficiency of His work, the certainty of His redemption, and the testimony of Scripture concerning Him. Yet sermons such as this continue to surface with remarkable frequency, each one promising spiritual insight while offering little more than another collection of stories, experiences, and speculation. Perhaps that is what troubles me most. The church does not need more folklore. It needs Christ. MPJ