"I Don't Want to Get in Trouble"

The other night, I mobile-ordered some sodas from our local Sonic (our crew is split between Diet Dr. Pepper and Diet Coke drinkers). Upon receiving my order, I discovered they were all Diet Dr. Pepper. I checked my app and realized I had mistakenly ordered it wrong.
When I talked with the employee about it, I explained that I had made the mistake in ordering. I asked if he could swap out the drinks I ordered in error or if I needed to order new ones (in addition to the ones I had). His response was interesting to me.
He suggested I order new ones, because "I don't want to get in trouble."
I said no problem and did just that.
I had one of my kids with me, and on the drive home, I commented that it was a sad response to me. My son was confused as to why, and I explained that rather than working with me on a solution, his only concern was a fear of his own well-being.
I asked my son how, if he were the owner of that Sonic, he would have wanted this employee to respond. He said he would have wanted him to solve the problem for us. I then explained that the reason the employee couldn't do this was that he was more afraid of getting into trouble because of a potential solution he offered. In my opinion, this is not a culture (from the top down) that fosters much creativity and customer care.
I wasn't mad at the employee; I was sad that this is the environment he works in.
As I thought more about this, I realized that most Christians live in this same environment.
By choice.
We talk a big game about “freedom in Christ,” but so many Christians voluntarily submit themselves to a system that feels more like religious probation. Their faith becomes less about being set free and more about not stepping on divine landmines. Like God is secretly waiting around a corner with a clipboard, ready to revoke blessings (or smite you with lightning bolts) if you misstep.
Why?
Because it’s safer.
Predictable.
If you follow the rules (don’t drink too much, don’t cuss, don’t hang out with the wrong people, tithe 10% like a vending machine for divine favor), then maybe you won’t end up in hell or lose God’s approval.
We baptize this fear and call it "reverence."
But let’s be honest: it's control dressed up in religious clothing.
Rather than creatively and courageously living out their faith by experimenting with love, learning from failure, and asking the uncomfortable questions, many Christians treat life like a game of divine Minesweeper. They’ve swapped a relationship with God for risk management.
This isn’t just about hell, although that’s the looming ultimate consequence hanging over everything like a cosmic TSA threat level. It's the daily anxiety too. The fear that a misstep might lead to God closing a door, withholding a blessing, or withdrawing Godself altogether.
But here's the wild twist: Jesus doesn’t play by those rules.
Jesus didn’t walk around handing out stress-based obedience contracts. He handed out invitations. “Come, follow me.” No fine print. No footnotes. No warnings about losing his favor if you forgot to read your Bible yesterday.
And yet... we still build cages and call them cathedrals.
Like my recent experience at Sonic, this does not foster an environment for much creativity.
When I worked at Office Depot in college, an older woman came in late one evening and bought something heavy (a printer, I think). I helped her get it to the register. As she checked out, she made an off-handed comment that she didn't know how she would get this upstairs to her apartment. The manager asked if she lived in the nearby apartment complex, and she said she did. He asked me to put her item in a shopping cart and walk it over to where she lived. He then instructed me to carry it up for her.
I remember looking at him to determine whether he was serious. This was not a standard solution we offered to anyone, and I'd never seen an employee do anything even remotely like this. I told him this would take me a while, and I didn't know when I'd be back. He said it was fine and that he just wanted to take care of her.
I still remember that moment decades later because I was shocked by how empowered he felt to solve a problem for her. As I carried out my mission, I realized how much I admired how my manager handled it. I wanted to lead like that, solve problems like that, and care for people that way.
But that only happened because he was in no way worried about getting in trouble for stepping outside the normal way of doing things. Certainly, some of that was positional, but he was only a shift manager. This was far more about his creativity and an environment that allowed him to do it.
Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised by my Sonic experience. I'll still get drinks there (even though I could have submerged myself in Diet Dr. Pepper after my last experience). But I will continue to be surprised that any Christian would see the goodness of a God that looks like Jesus and still resort to legalism, or Christian Nationalism, or Christendom Christianity with its threats of hell, or any other half-baked nonsense we create.
"If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love." 1 John 4:18
Photo by Myron Edwards on Unsplash
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