Posts filed under ‘Current Trends’
The ISIS Atrocities You Probably Haven’t Heard About
ISIS must be stopped. It’s difficult to come to any other conclusion when story after story of the group’s atrocities continue to pour in. In a horrifying iteration of violence that has become ISIS’s trademark, a woman named Alice Assaf recounted how when jihadis marched into her town over two years ago, they killed her son for refusing to disown his faith in Christ, murdered at least six men by baking them alive in ovens, and killed 250 children by massacring them in dough kneading machines at a local bakery.
Are you sick to your stomach yet? I certainly was when I read the news story.
But too many people have not read this story. Stories about emails and Tweets among the two major party presidential candidates have relegated ISIS’s atrocities to the background. Certainly, this year’s presidential election with all of its crazy ups and downs is important. But when many people lose track of, or, I fear, even lose interest in ISIS’s activities, something has gone tragically wrong.
Just last August, it was being argued that we should ignore, or at least downplay, ISIS’s crimes. During an official visit to Bangladesh, Secretary of State John Kerry explained:
No country is immune from terrorism. It’s easy to terrorize. Government and law enforcement have to be correct 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. But if you decide one day you’re going to be a terrorist and you’re willing to kill yourself, you can go out and kill some people. You can make some noise. Perhaps the media would do us all a service if they didn’t cover it quite as much. People wouldn’t know what’s going on.[1]
The Secretary of State was arguing that by featuring terror attacks in the headlines, we are only emboldening the terrorists by giving them what they want – free publicity, which leads to more recruiting power, which leads to more killings. As it turns out, however, even as ISIS’s publicity retreats, the atrocities continue. A lack of headlines does not seem to temper ISIS’s bloodlust.
We must understand that what drives ISIS, ultimately, is not a desire for fame, for land, or for money. A theology is what drives the group. I am sympathetic to Muslim theologians who argue that ISIS’s theology is not Islamic or representative of Allah in any meaningful or traditional sense, but even if this is the case, ISIS nevertheless has a theology. It has a conception of a god who calls and commands its adherents to do the things they do. And the things this god calls and commands them to do are horrifying. But they will continue to do them, whether or not the world is watching, because they think their god is watching – and is pleased with them.
This is why we must continue to pay attention. We must continue to pay attention because we serve and worship a God who does not order the execution of the oppressed, but cares about the plight of the oppressed and invites us to do the same. We must continue to pay attention because we serve and worship a God who hates injustice and promises to confront it and conquer it with righteousness.
Perhaps what was most shocking to me about the article I read outlining ISIS’s bakery massacre was the headlines in the “Related Stories” column of the website I was visiting:
- “ISIS Boils 6 Men Alive in Vats of Tar After Sharia Court Orders Death Sentence”
- “ISIS Executes 6 of Its Leaders by Using a Flamethrower”
- “ISIS Sends Parents Video of Daughters Being Raped, Tortured; Bag Carrying Their Body Parts”
All of these articles carried datelines of August and September of this year. ISIS is still on the loose, even if we don’t see it or know it. Perhaps it’s time to see and notice once again. After all, the blood of those it has slaughtered is crying out.
Are we listening?
____________________________
[1] Jeryl Bier, “Kerry in Bangladesh: Media Should Cover Terrorism Less,” The Weekly Standard (8.29.2016).
Standing for Life
I grew up in the first state in our union to legalize physician-assisted suicide. When Oregon passed the Death with Dignity Act in 1997, which allowed a terminally ill patient to administer lethal drugs to him or her self under the direction of a doctor, it stirred a lot of controversy. Though other states and regions have since followed suit, even nearly twenty years later, laws like the Death with Dignity Act still stir a lot of controversy and concern.
Our nation’s capital is now joining the fray of this debate with the D.C. Council readying themselves to vote tomorrow on legislation that would allow doctors to prescribe lethal drugs to terminally ill people. Fenit Nirappil of The Washington Post explains:
A majority of D.C. Council members say they plan to vote for the bill when it comes before them Tuesday.
But chances for enactment are unclear. The council will have to vote on the bill twice more by the end of the year. Mayor Muriel E. Bowser (D) has not indicated whether she will sign the legislation, although her health director has testified against it, saying it violates the Hippocratic oath. It is not certain that proponents have enough votes for an override. And Congress could also strike down the legislation.[1]
Many in the African-American community of Washington D.C. strongly oppose the legislation. The charge against the legislation is being led by Rev. Eugene Rivers III, who is leading a group called No DC Suicide. Rev. Rivers calls the legislation “back end eugenics,” and believes it is aimed at eliminating poor blacks. Leona Redmond, a community activist, echoes Rev. Rivers’ sentiment, saying, “It’s really aimed at old black people. It really is.” Proponents of the law have made countless assurances that there is no racial component to the legislation. Donna Smith, herself an African-American and the organizer for Compassion and Choices, argues, “This just isn’t a ‘white’ issue. This issue is for everyone who’s facing unbearable suffering at the end of life.”
Certainly, any move by any group to end people’s lives based on their race is repulsive. Indeed, if this legislation is enacted and, even if unintentionally, disproportionately affects a particular race, serious questions will need to be asked and stern objections will need to be raised. The problem for the Christian, however, extends beyond the boundaries of race to the dignity of humanity itself.
In the third article of the Nicene Creed, Christians confess, “I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life.” Fundamental to what we confess as Christians is that God is the giver of life. When the apostle Peter is preaching a sermon on Pentecost day, he says to those assembled, “You killed the author of life, but God raised Him from the dead” (Acts 3:15). Because God is the author of life, Christians believe that life is a sacred gift from God to us and ought to be stewarded carefully and lovingly by us. This is why orthodox Christianity has consistently stood against the taking of life whether that be through abortion at life’s beginning or through physician-assisted suicide as life may be nearing its end. Both of these practices treat life not as a gift to be stewarded, but as burden to be manipulated and, ultimately, destroyed.
It is true that life can sometimes become burdensome. But when a young lady becomes terrified at the specter of an unexpected pregnancy, or when a person is suffering through the throes of a terminal illness, we must remind ourselves that life itself is not the culprit in these types of tragic situations. A world broken by sin is the culprit. So attacking life itself doesn’t relieve the burden. Instead, attacking life actually succumbs to the burden because it capitulates to what sin wants, which is always ultimately death. To fight against sin, therefore, is to fight for life.
As Christians fight for life, it is very important that they fight for all of life and not just certain moments in life. All too often, Christians have been concerned with fighting for those at the beginning of life as they stand against abortion, or fighting for those who may be nearing the end of life as they stand against physician-assisted suicide. But there is so much more to life than just its beginning and its end. Christians should be fighting against human trafficking, which treats lives as commodities to be traded rather than as souls to be cherished. Christians should be fighting against racism, which trades the beauty of a shared humanity for the dreadfulness of discriminatory distinctions. Christians should be concerned with genocide in places like Aleppo, as Syria’s army continues to launch indiscriminate military strikes against its own citizens with horrifying results. To celebrate life means to celebrate all of life – from the moment of conception to the moment of death and everything in between.
So let’s stand for and celebrate life. After all, after this life comes everlasting life through faith in Christ. Life will win out in the end. So we might as well surrender to and celebrate life now.
______________________________
[1] Fenit Nirappil, “Right-to-die law faces skepticism in nation’s capital: ‘It’s really aimed at old black people,’” The Washington Post (10.17.2016).
Election Day Fear
Credit: CNN
Last week, I was driving back to my office after teaching a Bible study at a local business. I happened to be listening to a radio talk show when a lady called who took my breath away. She was nearly in tears. She had just seen a movie forecasting what would happen if a particular candidate was elected President of the United States. She told the talk show host:
I am scared to death. I don’t sleep. I’m an absolute basket case. I want what’s good for my children, my grandchildren, my family. It’s all going down the tubes because, after watching that movie last night, all I saw was what’s coming down, what’s next, what they have planned.
Wow. What palpable fear. What genuine terror. What a heartbreaking phone call. Fear can wreak a lot of havoc in a person’s heart and life.
I know this caller is not the only one frightened right now. It seems as though every time a presidential election comes around, people’s fear becomes more and more acute. So here’s a gentle reminder: fear is not helpful. There is a reason why the most common command in the Bible is, “Do not be afraid.” There is a reason Jesus says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:34). Fear is like an infection. Left unchecked, it can destroy people spiritually, emotionally, and relationally. So if you’re tempted toward fear, especially as it pertains to this upcoming election, here are a few things to keep in mind.
Fear tends toward hyperbole.
Every four years, I hear the same refrain from candidates and political pundits alike: “This is the most important election of our lifetimes.” Of course it is. That is, until the next election comes along. This claim, of course, is usually accompanied with dire predictions of what will happen if the wrong candidates get into political office. Of course factually, this claim cannot stand up under scrutiny because logically, this claim cannot be true more than once in a generation. And yet, it is assumed as true every four years. How can we believe a claim that is so logically ludicrous? Because we are afraid. And fear tends to look toward a certain point in time, such as an election, and wonder with worry: Is this the moment that will serve as the linchpin for the rest of history? Is this the moment when everything changes?
Christians have a confident answer to these questions. And our answer is “no.” We know that history’s linchpin moment has already come with Christ. No moment or election can even come close to comparing with Him. Indeed, I find it interesting that the primary way we know about political figures from the first century such as Pontius Pilate, Herod the Great, and even Caesar Augustus is through Scripture. But all of these men serve as paltry footnotes to the story of Jesus. It turns out they weren’t as important as everyone thought they were back then. Perhaps our leaders won’t be as important as we think they are right now. So why are we afraid?
Fear fosters self-righteousness.
It was Reinhold Niebuhr who wrote:
Political controversies are always conflicts between sinners and not between righteous men and sinners. It ought to mitigate the self-righteousness which is an inevitable concomitant of all human conflict.[1]
Niebuhr notes that, in politics, no party is completely right because no person is completely righteous. So we ought to be humbly honest about our sins rather arrogantly defensive in a smug self-righteousness. The problem with fear is that it tempts us to overlook the sins of ourselves and our party while gleefully pointing out the sins of the other party. Or worse, fear will justify the sins of our party by pointing to the purportedly worse sins of the other party. In this way, fear surrenders moral credibility because it puts itself through all sorts of intellectual and ethical contortions to make that which is self-evidentially wrong look right. This, by definition, is self-righteousness – something that Jesus unequivocally condemns. If Jesus condemns it, we should stay away from it. So do not let fear lead you into it.
Fear clouds decision-making.
Psychologists have long noted that fear is a great motivator. But fear has a funny way of impairing judgment. Just ask any deer who has been paralyzed by the two big lights that are barrelling toward him at a rapid rate of speed. Fear may promise to lead to rescue and safety, but, in the end, it leads to death. So why would we settle for election cycles that are continuously driven by fear?
Decisions made out of fear tend to be Consequentialist in nature. Consequentialism is a theory of ethics that says an act is good if it brings the least harm to the most people. The problem with Consequentialism, however, is twofold. First, because no one can fully predict the future, decisions based on future predictions, including the future predictions fueled by fear, usually have unintended – and often undesirable – consequences. Second, Consequentialism tends to degenerate into deep sinfulness as people become willing to excuse increasingly terrible acts to achieve some desired result. Consequentialism, then, may go after one good thing, but, in the process, it surrenders to and sanctions a bunch of bad things.
Decisions are much better made on principle rather than out of fear. Decisions made on principle allow the one making them to look at all facets of a decision rather than just an end result. They also place a high value on integrity rather than wantonly sacrificing that which is right for that which is expedient. Decisions made on principle are, ultimately, better decisions.
I know that eschewing fearfulness is much easier said than done. But fear must be fought – especially as it pertains to this upcoming election. Fear about this election and about the future solves nothing. It only manages to make the present miserable. So take heart and remember:
The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me? (Psalm 118:6)
Mortals cannot do nearly as much as we sometimes think they can, even if one of them becomes President of the United States. Things really will be okay, even if sinfulness does its worst.
Do not be afraid.
______________________
[1] Reinhold Niebuhr, Reinhold Niebuhr: Theologian of Public Life, Larry Rasmussen, ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), 248.
Comfort in Stormy Times: Reflections on Hurricane Matthew
The people of Florida are picking up the pieces. Along with the people of Georgia. And the people of the Carolinas. And the people of Cuba. And the people of Haiti. As Hurricane Matthew churned its way through the Caribbean and up the east coast, it left a path of destruction in its wake. In Florida, mandatory evacuations were issued before the storm. Grocery store shelves were stripped bare. Gas stations were pumped dry.
It could have been worse. They eye of Hurricane Matthew skirted much of the eastern seaboard, sparing these regions from what could have been even greater damage. But even if things were not as bad as they could have been, this storm was still a whopper. For a brief time, Hurricane Matthew reached Category 5 status, making it the first storm to reach a hurricane’s most powerful potential since Hurricane Felix in 2007.
Whenever a natural disaster of this magnitude strikes, it presents a unique set of struggles and questions. When we suffer a man-made disaster in a shooting or in an accident or even in a terrorist attack, we can point to the source of the calamity and explain that the person who created the catastrophe is unstable or incompetent or even evil. When a hurricane strikes however, there is no one from whom we can demand a mea culpa, save nature and nature’s God. And such a mea culpa is tough to come by.
So how are we to process this disaster? Here are a few things to keep in mind.
We cannot control everything.
In an election year such as this one, it is easy to live under the illusion that we wield a great amount of power and authority. We do, after all, have a say – even if it is a small one – in who the leader of the free world should be. But for every bit of control we think we have, there are so many things that simply fall outside our hands. Hurricanes are one of these things. We can forecast them, but we cannot steer them. They strike where they may. They strike with the energy that water temperatures give to them. The smallness of our power when compared to the scope of something like the weather should lead us to marvel at the bigness of God’s creation. There is still so much we cannot tame.
We can help others.
Though we do not have power over all things, this does not mean that we can help in some things – like in hurricane relief. My congregation, Concordia Lutheran in San Antonio, has set up a relief fund to help those in Haiti. We are exploring opportunities to help those in other areas as well. You can donate by clicking here. Part of our calling as Christians is to be a neighbor to those in need. Being neighborly need not be constrained by proximity, nationality, economy, or any other earthly barrier. To help others is to love Christ! Rolling up our sleeves by opening up our pocketbooks is a great way to get involved.
There is someone who is in control.
In a world that seems shaky, it is important that we remind ourselves that just because we are not in control does not mean that everything is out of control. Christian theologians will often describe God as omnipotent, a word that means “all power.” In other words, God has all control. When a storm like Matthew strikes, it serves us well to consider the many instances in Scripture that remind us that God, quite literally, guides the weather. In the case of His disciples, Jesus saves them from a storm on the Sea of Galilee by calming it with just a word. In the case of Jonah, God saves him with a storm that forces some sailors he is with to toss him overboard so God can send a giant fish to take the prophet where he needs to be. In the words of the Psalmist, God can also save people through storms as they seek refuge in Him: “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea” (Psalm 46:1-2). God, then, does not use storms in the same way in every instance. Sometimes, He saves us from storms as weather patterns change. Other times, he saves us with storms as these trials turn us toward Him. Still other times, He gives us strength to make it through storms, even if they hit us straight on.
Ultimately, it is important to remember that no matter what storms – whether they be literal or figurative – this world may bring, we have assurance in them because of Christ. When Christ was on the cross, the Gospel writers tell us that “darkness came over all the land” (Matthew 27:45). In other words, it stormed. But what looked like a storm of death became a storm that gave way to life three days later. Jesus overcame the storm of the cross so that we would never be lost to the storms caused by sin. For even if a storm takes lives, as did Hurricane Matthew, we can be assured that those who die in Christ go to a place where there is “a sea of glass, clear as crystal” (Revelation 4:6). In other words, in heaven, the weather is a flat calm. There, every storm has been conquered by Christ.
With the extent of the damage from Hurricane Matthew just now becoming clear, there is still a lot – economically, emotionally, and theologically – to sort through. But this much is clear: God does not abandon us in storms like these. He is there. And He cares.
Politics, Power, and Sacrifice
Originally, I wasn’t sure whether or not I was going to watch last Monday’s presidential debate. But my curiosity got the best of me, so I turned on the TV. I have seen many on social media bemoan the state of our politics in this presidential election and, I suppose, I would sympathize with their chorus. The tone of this election is grating. The discussion about this election often borders on and even ventures into the banal. And the goal of this election appears to be little more than an undisguised race for power. People across all points on our political spectrum are desperate to see their person in power so their interests can be furthered while others’ interests are overlooked, or, in some instances, even crushed.
Power is a funny thing, in part because it is such a dangerous thing. In the famous dictum of Lord Acton: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.” Power ought to come with a warning label: “Handle with care.”
Power, of course, isn’t always bad. God has plenty of power – indeed, He ultimately has all power – and is quite adept at using it. But it is also important to point out that God’s power always comes with a purpose. He uses His power in order to sustain the world. He uses His power in order to constrain evil. He uses His power in order to rescue us from hell. Power, for God, is a means to some very good ends.
The concern I have with so many in our political system is that power has become the means and the end. Politicians want power because, well, they want power! And this means that when they get power, they often use it in a most detrimental way – not to help others, but to help themselves.
Yoni Appelbaum discusses this reality in an article for The Atlantic titled, “America’s First Post-Christian Debate.” The way he describes America’s situation is jarring:
Civil religion died on Monday night.
For more than 90 minutes, two presidential candidates traded charges on stage. The bitterness and solipsism of their debate offered an unnerving glimpse of American politics in a post-Christian age, devoid of the framework that has long bound the nation together.[1]
He goes on to describe how traditionally Christian-esque values were not only not extolled in the first of our presidential debates, they were proudly repudiated. Virtues, Appelbaum says, were reframed as vices. Altruism was painted as a sucker’s game and sacrifice was left for those who are losers. “The Clinton-Trump debate,” he concludes, “was decidedly Marxian in its assumptions – all about material concerns, with little regard for higher purpose.” Yikes. I hope he’s wrong. But I couldn’t help but notice that not one transcendent concern made an appearance during the debate. We, as a nation, have become so obsessed with the exercise of power in the material realm that we pay little regard to the transcendent One who gives power as a gift to be stewarded rather than as a weapon to be wielded.
When the high priest of political pragmatism sirens us into trading cherished values like altruism and sacrifice for the formidable forces of power and control, something has gone terribly wrong. Such a trade fundamentally undermines the very purpose of power – at least in any Christian or morally traditional sense – in the first place. Power is to be used for the sake of altruism, not to dispense with it. Power is to be used in concert with sacrifice, not to insulate oneself from sacrifice. Any of the men and women in our nation’s Armed Forces can tell you that. Jesus certainly expressed His power in sacrifice. The cross was a place of no power and great power all at the same time. On the cross, Jesus gave up all power, even power over His very life, as “He gave up His spirit” (John 19:30). But through the cross, Jesus exercised great power, conquering sin, death, and the devil. Jesus’ power, to borrow a concept from the apostle Paul, came through weakness (cf. 2 Corinthians 12:10).
Political power might not involve dying on a cross, but it sure would be nice if it involved taking one up. It sure would be nice if politicians used their power to do the right thing, even if it involved some measure of sacrifice. It sure would be nice if politicians fashioned themselves more as public servants and less as demiurge saviors. It sure would be nice if voters stopped cynically leveraging the power-obsessed sins of an opposing candidate to minimize and rationalize the power-obsessed sins of their own candidate. A willingness to see sin as sin, even if it’s sin in the politician you happen to be voting for, is a first step to an honest and healthy analysis of our problems politically.
I understand that politicians are not always Christian, and I understand that non-Christians can be competent politicians. I am also not so naïve as to think that every politician will see his or her elected office as a cross to bear rather than as a career to manage, even if they should. I furthermore understand that the civil religion of which Appelbaum speaks in his article is not coterminous with – and in many ways is not compatible with – Christianity. But the virtues of Christianity it promotes – charity, selflessness, and humility, among others – are good for our world even as they are good in the Church. We need them. We need them because, to quote another proverb from Lord Acton, “Despotic power is always accompanied by corruption of morality.” The curbing of despotic power may not be the ultimate reason to foster and preserve Christian virtue in our political system, but it sure is a good reason.
We the people should expect of our politicians – and of ourselves – something more than a blunt exercise of power, even if that power happens to promote our interests. We the people should expect real virtue, both in the people we elect as well as in ourselves. Do we? If we don’t, there’s no better time than the present to change our expectations. Remember, the people we elect to public office are not just products of a corrupt political system, they are reflections of the values we celebrate and the vices we tolerate.
Perhaps it’s time for us to take a good, long look in the mirror.
__________________________
[1] Yoni Appelbaum, “America’s First Post-Christian Debate,” The Atlantic (9.27.2016).
Back To The Beginning
A couple of weeks ago, a scientific discovery significant enough to merit coverage in The New York Times was revealed. Geologists have discovered the world’s oldest fossils in Greenland. According to these researchers, the fossils are around 3.7 billion years old and are thought to be stromatolites, which are formed by the growth of layers of cyanobacteria, a single-celled microbe that lives in shallow water. But the discovery has posed a problem for scientists. Nicholas Wade explains:
The great age of the fossils complicates the task of reconstructing the evolution of life from the chemicals naturally present on the early Earth. It leaves comparatively little time for evolution to have occurred and puts the process close to a time when Earth was being bombarded by destructive asteroids.[1]
For years, scientists have struggled to date the age of and construct a prehistory of the earth. Just when a consensus about the earth’s age seems to emerge, new evidence surfaces that forces scientists to rethink the prevailing wisdom. Theories of the earth’s origins and the origins of life are constantly being modified.
Part of the trouble with the discovery of this fossil is that it forces the origins of life, from an evolutionary perspective, back to more than 4 billion years ago. This timeframe coincides with cataclysmic meteor events on the earth, including a hit by a meteor so big that it tore out a chunk of our planet that spun into orbit and become our moon. As Mr. Wade notes in his article, “It is difficult to see how life could have begun under such circumstances.” It is difficult, indeed. That is, unless there’s more to life than evolutionary chance.
Whenever a discovery like this is made, it points not only to the wonder of the earth, but to the problems that emerge with what appears to be a designer planet when one denies any sort of a Designer. This is why the Bible opens its pages with a declaration of one Designer: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). Whatever one might think of fossils that are purported to be billions of years old, this much the Bible says we can know: the fossils, and the life they represent, did not happen by accident. Someone formed life and, through whatever this planet has endured, has sustained life. This is why some researchers struggle so mightily to reconstruct earth’s origins. They work out of a worldview that will simply not allow an author and sustainer of life. They may study fossils to date them, but they do not take the time to marvel at the very existence of them.
The question each of us must answer is this: am I wedded – philosophically and academically – to a universe that is constrained by naturalism? Do I believe that there is no cause of anything save what we can see and measure? Or, as Christianity claims, am I open – philosophically and academically – to a universe that bears the marks of supernaturalism? Do I believe that what we see is simply too fantastic to be described in merely mechanical terms? Do I believe that things can also be described in theological terms?
Christians should by no means be closed off to scientific study and discovery. Curiosity, after all, is hardwired into the human spirit. But scientists also should not close themselves off to God. For if one is subscribes to sheer naturalism, he may be able to accumulate lots of information about what he sees, but he will still be left with little meaning as to why it’s all here.
Christianity tells us that everything is here because, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” He is why everything exists. He is why we exist. And that means He is worth at least considering in any theory of origins.
The fossils got here somehow.
_________________________
[1] Nicholas Wade, “World’s Oldest Fossils Found in Greenland,” The New York Times (8.31.2016).
Believing and Acting
Last week in The New York Times, Nicholas Kristof penned a column calling on his readers to rethink Christianity. His thoughts are based on a new book by famed former Evangelical, professional provocateur, and author Brian McLaren. Mr. Kristof summarizes the thrust of Mr. McLaren’s book by quoting a few lines:
“What would it mean for Christians to rediscover their faith not as a problematic system of beliefs but as a just and generous way of life, rooted in contemplation and expressed in compassion?” McLaren asks in “The Great Spiritual Migration.” “Could Christians migrate from defining their faith as a system of beliefs to expressing it as a loving way of life?”[1]
What is being argued for here is a wresting away of Christianity from a prescribed set of beliefs and a reinventing or a recapturing (depending on your perspective) of Christianity as a call to action.
Except, that’s not what’s really being argued for at all.
The reader is clued into this fact by the way in which Mr. McLaren describes traditional Christian beliefs. He asks, “What would it mean for Christians to rediscover their faith not as a problematic system of beliefs?” It turns out that the trouble with traditional Christianity is not that it espouses beliefs, but that it espouses beliefs that are, in Mr. McLaren’s words, “problematic.” Mr. Kristof notes a couple of these “problematic” beliefs in the opening of his column:
Jesus never mentioned gays or abortion but focused on the sick and the poor, yet some Christian leaders have prospered by demonizing gays.
This is only the second sentence of his article, but Christian beliefs concerning human sexuality and abortion have already made an appearance. I should note that it is indisputably a problem – both theologically and humanitarianly – to, as Mr. Kristof puts it, “demonize gays.” But I can’t help but wonder what he means by “demonizing gays.” Does he mean treating a whole group of people as sub-human? Or does he mean calling sexual activity outside of a marriage between a husband and a wife sin? To do the first is to be vicious and wrong. The do the second is to tell the truth.
Ultimately, any attempt to portray Christianity as a series of actions as opposed to a set of beliefs is bound to fail because such an attempt simply does not reflect the way of Jesus. Jesus was committed both to doing and to doctrine. This is why Jesus taught on a whole host of doctrinal issues such as money, worship, the nature and character of Scripture, the end times, His divinity, and yes, even human sexuality.
There is an old phrase, coined by Prosper of Aquitaine in the fifth century, that has long been used to describe much of the worship life of the Church: Lex orandi, lex credendi. “The law of praying is the law of believing.” The idea behind this phrase is that a person learns how and what to believe in worship. In other words, the worship life of the Church is meant to form and inform the faith life of Christians.
But there is a second part to this slogan: Lex credendi, lex vivendi. “The law of believing is the law of living.” That is, what a person believes necessarily forms and informs what a person does. This is why the apostle Paul can exhort a young pastor named Timothy, “Watch your life and doctrine closely” (1 Timothy 4:16). Paul knows that doctrine and doing go hand in hand.
Mr. Kristof and Mr. McLaren know that doctrine and doing are, in reality, inseparable. This is why, even as they issue a call to action while wryly downplaying the value of doctrinal standards, they cannot help but point to and act on their own theological commitments. Their beef, even if it is presented otherwise, is not with the fact that Christians believe, but with what Christians believe. I would simply remind them that, eventually, if we act on what we believe as Christians, people will want to know why we do what we do. And we should have an answer to give to them even as Scripture has given an answer to us. And for that, doctrine still matters.
_______________________________
[1] Nicholas Kristof, “What Religion Would Jesus Belong To?” The New York Times (9.3.2016).
Using Kids to Kill
Women cry during a funeral for victims of the attack on a wedding party that left at least 50 dead in Turkey.
Credit: Ilyas Akenginilyas Akengin / AFP / Getty Images
Late last week, word came that more than 50 people had been killed at a wedding party in Istanbul when a suicide bomber walked into the party and blew himself up. In a nation that is always on high alert because it has seen so many of these types of terrible attacks, how did a terrorist slip into this party unnoticed? Officials estimate that the suicide bomber in question was between 12 and 14 years old. In other words, no one noticed the bomber at the party because this bomber was, in relative terms, a baby – a child. And children are harmless – or so we think.
Exploiting kids to kill its enemies has been a longstanding and and cynically promoted strategy of ISIS. Reporting for USA Today, Oren Dorell, citing the expertise of Mia Bloom, a researcher at Georgia State, explains:
In the initial seduction phase, Islamic State fighters roll into a village or neighborhood, hold Quran recitation contests, give out candy and toys, and gently expose children to the group. This part often involves ice cream…
“To desensitize them to violence, they’re shown videos of beheadings, attend a live beheading,” Bloom said.
Then the children participate in beheadings, by handing out knives or leading prisoners to their deaths, she said. The gradual process is similar to that used by a pedophile who lures a child into sex, “slowly breaking down the boundaries, making something unnatural seem normal,” she said.[1]
In another article that appeared in USA Today last year, Zeina Karam explains how ISIS teaches kids to behead their victims:
More than 120 boys were each given a doll and a sword and told, cut off its head.
A 14-year-old who was among the boys, all abducted from Iraq’s Yazidi religious minority, said he couldn’t cut it right. He chopped once, twice, three times.
“Then they taught me how to hold the sword, and they told me how to hit. They told me it was the head of the infidels,” the boy, renamed Yahya by his Islamic State captors, told the Associated Press last week in northern Iraq, where he fled after escaping the Islamic State training camp.[2]
All of this is ghastly, of course. The thought of children being trained to commit brutal acts of murder feels utterly unthinkable to us. But why?
Scripture is clear that all people, from the moment of our births, are sinful. To cite King David’s famous words: “Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me” (Psalm 51:5). So that a child could or would commit a sinful act should not be particularly surprising to us. Little kids commit all kinds of sins – everything from lying to defying to hoarding – all the time. But the thought of a child committing murder seems different.
Theologically, the thought of a child committing murder seems different because, at the same time all people are born sinners, we are also born as bearers of the image of God. In other words, at the same time we all have sinful inclinations, we also have a righteous Creator who has endowed us with a moral compass. When this moral compass is violated, guilt ensues, for we cannot fully escape the mark of our Creator.
God’s mark proves to be particularly poignant when it comes to the sin of murder. This is why God’s image is specifically invoked against the taking of a life: “I will demand an accounting for the life of another human being. Whoever sheds human blood, by humans shall their blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made mankind” (Genesis 9:5-6). To watch one person kill another person is so completely incongruous with who God has created us to be, it cannot help but startle us.
In a human, then, there are two tugs – one that is of sin and the other that is of righteousness. And these war against each other. ISIS has fanned into a giant, roaring flame the inclination to sin in the lives of little children. This is sadly possible to do because of humanity’s sinful state, but it will not escape the judgment of God. In the words of Jesus:
Things that cause people to stumble are bound to come, but woe to anyone through whom they come. It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble. (Luke 17:1-2)
Christ does not take kindly to those who intentionally and systematically lead children into sin. After all, He made them in His image and He cares for them out of His love. May His little ones be saved from those who would harm them.
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[1] Oren Dorell, “Here’s how the Islamic State turns children into terrorists,” USA Today (8.23.2016).
[2] Zeina Karam, “Islamic State camp has kids beheading dolls with swords,” USA Today (7.21.2015).
Why Children Are More Than a Drag
In our household, I am the one who usually gives our kids their baths. And last week, while I had them both in the bath one evening, my daughter decided it would be fun to start hitting her daddy – playfully, but strangely forcefully – while my son was fussing loudly in his infant tub because he had just filled his diaper.
Ah, the perils of parenting. Yes, it is tiring. Yes, it can be dizzying and overwhelming. Yes, it is ridiculously time consuming. And yes, I am very much aware – and a bit fearful – that, as my kids grow older and begin to assert their independence in sometimes dangerous and derelict ways, parenting can also grow to be heartbreaking. And yet, parenting is nevertheless wonderful. I would not trade my vocation as a father any more than I would trade my vocation as a husband or my identity as a child of God.
As it turns out, however, not everyone feels the same way I do.
A revealing article appeared in the National Post last month featuring Calum and Tina Marsh, a married couple who is repulsed by the idea of having children. In fact, “repulsed” is probably too weak a word to describe their loathing. Calum, the author of this piece, writes:
A few weeks ago one of my oldest and closest friends told me that she planned to have children. Or rather she mentioned it, almost in passing, with the idle nonchalance of a remark about the midday heat: she planned to have children – and she planned to have them soon. I was dumbfounded. Children? Those fleshy barnacles of snot and mutiny? Those extortionate burdens? Those shrieking, dribbling, bawling horrors? Not for me, thank you. And not – I rashly assumed – for anyone else in my peer group. That my friend could want a child seemed to me unthinkable. It was as if she’d said she planned to invade Poland.[1]
It used to be a given that, barring some radically extenuating circumstance, having children was considered to be a generally natural outcome of marriage. But according to Mr. Marsh, children are nothing short of “extortionate burdens” and “shrieking, dribbling, bawling horrors.” Wow. What kind of trouble could any child possibly cause to earn such an awful reputation? Mr. Marsh explains:
I value my lifestyle, and I like having the means to maintain it. I value my free time. I’d like to re-read the complete works of Shakespeare, and get around to tackling Proust; I’m keen to learn Latin and modern dance; I wouldn’t mind visiting Locarno, Ankara and Bucharest. I also enjoy the freedom from responsibility childlessness affords me.
Let me try to sum up Mr. Marsh’s explanation as to why he does not want to have children and why he thinks they are “shrieking, dribbling, bawling horrors” in two words: he’s selfish. In other words, Mr. Marsh has things he wants to do, money he wants to spend, and places he wants to go, and kids would throw a wrench into his plans and desires. For Mr. Marsh, the most important thing in life is, well, Mr. Marsh. Mr. Marsh is extolling selfishness, not as a vice, but as a virtue – a posture toward yourself that allows you to enjoy life more fully.
Don’t misunderstand me. There are good reasons why a couple may not have children. Sometimes, it is a heartbreaking medical condition that prevents a couple from having children, even when the couple may desire them. Other times, a couple may not have the means to provide for a child. In certain instances, foregoing the raising of children may even serve a spiritual purpose. Both the apostle Paul and Jesus Himself did not marry and did not raise children because of particular calls God had placed on their lives. There are plenty of good reasons not to have children. Mr. Marsh, however, does not provide us with any of these reasons. He simply wants to live his life for himself unencumbered by anyone who would ask much of anything from him.
One of the paradoxical principles of Christianity is that it is selflessness – not selfishness – that leads to a fulfilling life. Indeed, this is the very pattern of the cross. Christ emptied Himself in His death for us so that we could be called, coincidentally enough, His children (Galatians 3:26), and through that emptiness was exalted to the Father’s right hand as One equal to God (Philippians 2:6-11).
The apostle Paul is clear that Christ’s way of emptying Himself should be reflected in our lives as well:
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus. (Philippians 2:3-5)
Children offer a unique opportunity to practice ruthless selflessness because they demand so much more than a passing act of a service – giving a donation here, or joining a relief effort for a couple of days there. They demand that one places his own priorities aside daily for the sake of someone else. This is not an easy way to live, but it is a good way to live. Indeed, one of the more troubling questions raised in my mind by Mr. Marsh’s article was this: if Mr. Marsh doesn’t want kids because they are an inconvenience to and an inhibitor of his preferred lifestyle, how would Mr. Marsh react if Mrs. Marsh were to become an inconvenience and a drag on his dreams? Selfishness, you see, has a funny way not only of preventing relationships – like the relationship you could have with a son or daughter – but of destroying the relationships you already have.
Mr. Marsh concludes his article by saying:
I can’t begin to imagine the burden not only of time and money but of authority and influence – of being accountable for a human life. It’s lunacy that so many people are comfortable with it.
I have news for Mr. Marsh: no parent is ever comfortable with being responsible for his child’s life. Just ask any parent who has reached over to his daughter’s basinet in the middle of the night and put his hand on her chest just to make sure she was still breathing. Being comfortable isn’t the point when you’re raising children. Loving and caring for a life that God has given you is. And that’s a privilege I’ll take over comfort any day.
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[1] Calum Marsh, “‘Children? Those shrieking, dribbling, bawling horrors? Not for me, thank you’: Why fatherhood is not for everyone and shouldn’t have to be,” National Post (7.15.2016).
Thoughts on the Martyrdom of Rev. Jacques Hamel
A French police officer stands guard by Saint-Étienne-du-Rouvray’s city hall.
Credit: AFP Photo / Charly Triballeau
France is under assault. Less than two weeks after 84 people were killed in Nice when a terrorist drove a large van at high speeds through a crowd of revelers who were celebrating Bastille Day, word comes that an 85-year-old priest, Rev. Jacques Hamel, had his throat slit in front of his congregation in Saint-Étienne-du-Rouvray as he was concluding a Tuesday morning Mass last week. ISIS quickly claimed responsibility for the attack, though there is no evidence that the attackers had been been able to make contact with the radical group. In response to the killing, French President François Hollande remarked, “We must realize that the terrorists will not give up until we stop them.”[1] But stopping them is proving more difficult than anyone imagined. It turns out that, in this attack, one of the killers was wearing and electronic tag that tracked his motions because he was under house arrest after he attempted to travel to Syria in 2015. But his tracking device did nothing to thwart his murderous rampage.
France, of course, is gripped by fear. ISIS and its sympathizers seem intent on starting nothing less than a holy war. And managing an effective military and police defense seems next to impossible. This is why it is important that, as Christians, we remember that even though physical defenses can fail us, we have a spiritual defense that is sure. The apostle Paul writes:
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power…Put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Ephesians 6:10, 13-17)
Paul’s famous words speak of the spiritual defense we have against every kind of evil attack. Against lies, we buckle a belt of truth. Against wickedness, we stand with the breastplate of righteousness. Against violence, we charge forth with the gospel of peace. Against faithlessness, we take up the shield of faith. And against the devil’s attempts to speak condemnation over us, we wear a helmet of salvation and wield the sword of God’s Word. We are impressively outfitted.
But Paul is not yet done. He continues:
And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should. (Ephesians 6:18-20)
Even though the NIV translates Paul’s words here as a new sentence, the Greek syntax of this passage lends itself toward being one, long run-on sentence that begins in verse 17 when Paul calls on us to take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit. In this way, then, Paul’s words in verses 18 through 20 tell us how we are to wield the weapons he outlines in verses 14 through 17. We are to wield them prayerfully. When we fight against evil, we are not to do so angrily or bitterly or pridefully, but prayerfully.
Granted, fighting against evil’s attacks prayerfully will not always appear to be effective. Look at Paul! The very man who is extolling the prayerful use of the weapons of God notes that he is “in chains” (verse 20). He is being persecuted for his faith and his persecutors appear to have the upper hand. But Paul knows things are not always as they appear. Just like Christ when He was crucified, a person who appears to be a victim can ultimately prove to be the victor. Indeed, one of the fascinating things about the Christian’s posture toward martyrdom is that although it is not to be sought, it is also not necessarily always to be fought. The apostle Peter, who himself was eventually martyred for the faith, wrote, “If you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name” (1 Peter 4:16). Peter says a Christian can find joy even in things as ghastly as suffering and death. When a Christian fights, therefore, he fights more for the truth of Christ than he does against his own suffering and death.
None of this is to say that the death of Father Hamel is anything less than tragic. Prayers for his family, his friends, and the parish at which he served are certainly in order. What happened last week was evil. And Father Hamel’s voice is now added to the voices under Revelation’s altar that cry out, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until You judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood” (Revelation 6:10)? The cry of Father Hamel’s blood will not fall on deaf ears. When Christ returns, there will be a reckoning for his unjust death.
Shortly after last week’s events in Saint-Étienne-du-Rouvray, a friend of mine posted a quote from the great Danish theologian and philosopher Søren Kierkegaard: “The tyrant dies and his rule is over, the martyr dies and his rule begins.”[2] This is most certainly true. This gentle, aged priest, though he no longer leads in a parish, is now ruling “in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:6).
And for that, even as I am sorrowful, I am thankful.
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[1] Adam Nossiter, Alissa J. Rubin and Benoît Morrene, “ISIS Says Its ‘Soldiers’ Attacked Church in France, Killing Priest,” The New York Times (7.26.2016).
[2] Søren Kierkegaard, Papers and Journals, Alastair Hannay, trans. (London: Penguin Books, 1996), 352.
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