Have you noticed how easily faith feels like a contract? Our lives are managed by contracts. Mortgages. Rent agreements. Vehicle loans. Phone plans. Insurance premiums. Each one built on a clear transaction: you give this, you get that.
It ought not surprise us then, when this same sort of thinking sticks in the way we see our relationship with God. Honestly, faith feels like a transaction: if keep my end of the deal, then God should keep his.
The Transactional Faith Mindset
For some, prayer becomes a kind of spiritual vending machine. If I put in the right words, say them with enough sincerity and lots of faith, press the right button, then claim it while the machine does its thing, God should give me what I ask for. If the item doesn’t drop (or the wrong one does), I take it out on the machine. C’mon I’m not the only one!
For others, discipleship feels like an installment plan: if I attend church, tithe, serve on a committee, volunteer in ministry and read my Bible, then God owes me an MPT (Most Preferred Treatment), or at least a pretty much trouble-free life. Yet that mindset exists in a church community as well because in an economic sense, we’re consumers and that can translate in our view of church, we consume more than contribute, we give to get.
Still others see faith as an insurance policy: if I keep the faith and avoid the “big sins,” then my eternal security is guaranteed.
On the surface, this thinking seems reasonable but why do we need contracts? First, I should point out that contracts are fragile. They’re built on mistrust, they anticipate failure but there are some good things about contracts. For one, they provide order and accountability, they protect mutual self interests. “If you do X, I do Y.” A contract is transactional, limited and it ends if benefits cease. But when our relationship with God is reduced to a contract, it leaves us anxious, disappointed, feeling like a failure or resentful.
Anxious because we’re never sure if we’ve done enough to keep up our side of the bargain.
Disappointed when life doesn’t go according to our plan, even though we’ve “paid our premiums” with prayer and obedience.
Feeling like a failure when we pour ourselves out to serve God and others and not much to show for our efforts.
Resentful when others seem to get more blessing than we do, even though they’ve invested less.
At its core, this transactional view is built on mixed messages of who God is.
God’s Nature is Love, Not Contract
In a previous article on 1 John 4:7–8, we saw that love isn’t just something God does — love is God’s very nature. I called it “foundational” because love defines God’s essence and how God relates with humanity. God doesn’t deal with us on the cold, calculated terms of a contract.
God’s way is covenant, not contract. God’s love isn’t dependant upon our flawless performance. That’s good news because the idea of a contract is a buzzkill. Instead, His covenant love grounds who God is. God chooses to love even in the face of evil, rebellion, and brokenness.
From Contract to Covenant
In Western society we’re so immersed in contract-thinking that covenant thinking almost feels like a foreign word. We don’t feel it in our bones the way biblical Israel did, so what’s missing? That’s a discussion for another day.
Until next time…