Christ, Culture, and Witness
A perennial question of Christianity asks: How should a Christian relate to and interact with broader culture? In his classic work, Christ and Culture, H. Richard Niebuhr outlines what has become the premier taxonomy of the relationship between the two as he explores five different ways that, historically, Christ and culture have corresponded:
- Christ against culture: In this view, Christianity and broader culture are incompatible and Christianity will inevitably be at odds with and should retreat from the rest of the world.
- Christ of culture: In this view, Christianity and broader culture are well suited for each other, and Jesus becomes the fulfiller of society’s hopes and dreams.
- Christ above culture: In this view, broader culture is not bad per se, but it needs to be augmented and perfected by biblical revelation and the Church, with Christ as the head.
- Christ and culture in paradox: In this view, culture is not all bad because it is, after all, created by God, but it has been corrupted by sin. Therefore, there will always be a tension between the potential of culture and its reality as well as between the brokenness of culture and the perfection of Christ.
- Christ the transformer of culture: In this view, because Christ desires to ultimately redeem culture, Christians should work to transform culture.
The categories Niebuhr outlines and the tensions he teases out in his taxonomy are just as salient today as they were when he first posed them in 1951. Indeed, they are perhaps even more so as America slides into what many have christened a “post-Christian age.”
In my view, the first two categories won’t do. To pit Christ against culture, as the first view tries to do, overlooks the fact that there is much good in culture. It can also easily lead Christians into a self-righteousness that spends so much time trying to fight culture that it forgets that Christians are part of the problem in culture, for they too are sinners.
Conversely, to team Christ with culture and to use Christ to endorse your zeitgeist of choice also will not do. As Ross Douthat explains, when this happens:
Traditional churches are supplanted by self-help gurus and spiritual-political entrepreneurs. These figures cobble together pieces of the old orthodoxies, take out the inconvenient bits and pitch them to mass audiences that want part of the old-time religion but nothing too unsettling or challenging or ascetic. The result is a nation where Protestant awakenings have given way to post-Protestant wokeness, where Reinhold Niebuhr and Fulton Sheen have ceded pulpits to Joel Osteen and Oprah Winfrey, where the prosperity gospel and Christian nationalism rule the right and a social gospel denuded of theological content rules the left.
Though I would take issue with Douthat’s characterization of Reinhold Niebuhr and Fulton Sheen as torchbearers for Christian orthodoxy, his broader point about what happens when Christ is made to mindlessly cater to culture is absolutely true. Culture, it turns out, is a much better line dancer than it is a two-stepper. It likes to dance alone and will humor Christ only as long as it needs to until it can find a way to leave Him behind and strike out on its own.
In my view, Niebuhr’s category of “Christ and culture in paradox” best explains the difficult realities of the Church’s interaction with culture and the biblical understanding of how to relate to culture. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul opens by writing:
When I came to you, I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling. (1 Corinthians 2:1-3)
The Corinthians prided themselves on being enlightened and educated. Paul sardonically jibes the Corinthians for their arrogance, teasing, “We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are honored, we are dishonored” (1 Corinthians 4:10). To a church that prided itself in being intellectually and socially elitist, rather than engaging in rhetorical and philosophical acrobatics to impress the Corinthians when he proclaimed the gospel to them, Paul came to them with the rather unimpressive, as he put it, “foolish” message of Christ and Him crucified. Paul cut against the culture of Corinth.
And yet, at the same time he cut against the culture of Corinth, he also declared his love for broader culture and even embedded himself into broader culture in an effort to proclaim the gospel:
Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. (1 Corinthians 9:19-22)
Paul was not afraid to appropriate culture in service to the declaration and proclamation of the gospel so that as many people as possible might be saved.
So there you have it. Paul eschews cultural sensibilities at the same time he employs them. Because Paul knows that Christ and culture live in paradox with one another.
We would do well to follow in Paul’s footsteps. As Christians, we must not be afraid to cut against culture’s sinfulness and brokenness. But at the same time, we must also not be afraid to embrace culture’s creativity and respect its sensibilities as often as we possibly can. And we must have the wisdom to know when to do what. Otherwise, we will only wind up losing the truth to culture or losing the opportunity to share the truth with culture. And we can afford to lose neither.
Let us pray that we would faithfully keep both in 2019.
2018 in Review
Another year is drawing to a close. Here’s a look back at some of the stories that caught my attention in 2018.
January
President Trump sparks a controversy by making, behind closed doors, vulgar comments about places like Haiti and Africa, and expresses concern about accepting immigrants from nations like these. His comments are part of a long-running debate and disagreement over the kind of immigration policy this country should pursue.
February
Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida is shot up by a gunman who kills 17 and wounds 14. The shooting gives rise to rallies across the country that debate the efficacy of stricter gun control policies.
March
A mystery bomber sparks terror across the city of Austin by leaving and mailing package bombs to apparently randomly selected people across the city. As law enforcement officials close in on the subject, he blows himself up, killing himself and injuring a police officer.
April
The CEO of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg, travels to Washington DC to testify before Congress and answer questions about how his company protects users’ data and what it did to stop Russian interference in the 2016 presidential election.
May
The nation of Ireland, which has been historically informed by Roman Catholicism in its national stances on various moral issues, votes to legalize abortion-on-demand when it votes to repeal the Eighth Amendment to its Constitution.
June
Two celebrities, Kate Spade, an iconic fashion designer, and Anthony Bourdain, a foodie and CNN adventurer, tragically take their own lives. The suicide rate across the country continues to rise.
July
Justice Anthony Kennedy announces his retirement, effective the end of the month. A so-called “swing” vote on the Supreme Court, his retirement sparks many questions and debate about who will replace him.
August
The New York Times publishes a bombshell report chronicling the abuse of over 1,000 children in the Dioceses of Pennsylvania by over 300 priests there.
September
Confirmation hearings for Judge Brett Kavanaugh, President Trump’s nominee for the man to replace Anthony Kennedy on the Supreme Court, explode after he is accused of sexually assaulting a woman while in high school. He is eventually confirmed.
October
In the scope of one week, a bomber sends a series of explosive packages to public detractors of the president, and a gunman, armed with an AR-15 and three rifles, walks into a synagogue in Pittsburgh on the Sabbath and kills eleven.
November
The midterm elections are held. Republicans keep and increase their lead in the Senate while Democrats flip the House of Representatives and give themselves a comfortable majority, leading many to describe the election as a “blue wave.”
December
The 41st President of the United States, George H.W. Bush, passes away. A state funeral at the National Cathedral in Washington DC is held in his honor.
Needless to say, it’s been a busy year. There were many more stories I wrote about that I didn’t include in this brief retrospective. Along with the above stories, in 2018, the famed televangelist Billy Graham died, a columnist for the Washington Post, Jamal Khashoggi, was brutally murdered, a famous evangelical pastor had to step down after accusations of sexual impropriety surfaced in the Chicago Tribune, two major hurricanes crashed into continental United States, the deadliest and most damaging wildfires ever ravaged the state of California, the Hawaiian volcano Kilaeua spewed lava and destroyed homes, the US moved its embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, and the stock market took us on a wild ride.
So, what can we learn from all of these stories? Here are a few thoughts.
First, there is a lot outside of us we cannot control. From volcanos that erupt to hurricanes that flood to wildfires that scorch, the year’s events remind us that, for all our technological achievements and manpower, there is plenty we cannot control. Indeed, there are many natural disasters to which we cannot even adequately respond. The limits of our power should keep us humble in the face of the cosmos. It is big. We are small.
Second, there is a lot inside of us we cannot control. Mass shootings, dangerous bombings, accusations of sexual harassment, and tragic suicides have become commonplace events. Evil is grimly efficient, it seems, at infecting and overtaking people. It is difficult to stop tragedy when it turns out that the perpetrator of the tragedy is us.
Third, all this means we need something or someone bigger than the cosmos’s brokenness and bigger than human sinfulness. We need a Crafter of the cosmos to step in and reorder what has gone wrong. We need a Helper for humanity to step in and rescue us from our willingly wicked ways. In short, we need Jesus. 2018 needed Jesus.
My guess is 2019 will need Him, too. So let’s not only hope for a good new year, let’s pray for one.
Heavenly Father, thank You for Your blessings in 2019. We ask You to guide us in righteousness in 2019 and guard us from sinfulness. Protect us from calamity, foster in us charity, and give us hearts that live in light of eternity. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
A Carol Turns 200
200 years ago, on this night, the modern Christmas carol was born. A small church in Oberndorf, Austria had an organ that was in need of repair, and the parish priest there, Joseph Mohr, wanted a Christmas song he could sing with his congregants sans the usual stops and pipes. He composed some lyrics that a local teacher, Franz Gruber, set to music, and the two of them performed the song, accompanied simply by guitar, for the first time during their Christmas Eve service on December 24, 1818. The name of the song was “Silent Night.”
The song’s appeal is indisputably enduring. It was sung in the trenches as a part of an unofficial Christmas truce in 1914 during World War I by German soldiers to their British enemies. It was sung again during World War II in the wake of the attack on Pearl Harbor by Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill in the Rose Garden of the White House. When Bing Crosby recorded the song in 1935, it became the third best-selling single of all time. And, of course, tonight, millions will gather across the world to sing the song by candlelight with warm hearts and, by God’s grace, lively faith.
Part of the song’s appeal is its utter simplicity. Both the tune and lyrics are extraordinarily unassuming. But the song also tells the story of Christmas extremely well. Everything from Jesus’ birth to the angelic announcement to some nearby shepherds to the truth of Jesus’ identity is contained in this carol. The last verse is my favorite:
Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light;
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.
Here, in just this one verse, we find who Jesus is, why Jesus has come, and what He has come to do. Jesus is the Lord who has come as a baby in a manger out of love to bring redeeming grace. That’s more than a verse in a carol. That’s the gospel. That’s why, 200 years later, this is still a carol worth singing. Because it tells of a birth that, 2,000 years later, is still most definitely worth celebrating.
Merry Christmas.
The Dating Apps For People Who Don’t Want To Date
Dating isn’t what it used to be. In fact, in some circles, dating just isn’t. Apps like Tinder and OkCupid have begun to admit as much in their advertising campaigns. Lisa Boons explains in an article for The Washington Post:
If you’ve seen ads for OkCupid or Tinder recently, you might notice something conspicuous: There’s little mention of love or partnership. Instead of trying to convince users that their perfect match is just a click or a swipe or a wink away, OkCupid and Tinder are touting the joy of meeting new people yet remaining unattached…
Appearing amid ads for Etihad Airways and Hulu, Tinder’s shows a gaggle of diverse young people throwing their hands in the air and roller-skating under dreamy pink and blue neon lights – as if footage from a night out has been put through the Amaro Instagram filter. “Single is a terrible thing to waste” is superimposed over the carefree images. They skate in single-file, alone together – no one holding anyone’s hand…
The dating app’s other ads proclaim: “Congrats on your big breakup”; “Single does what Single wants”; “Single never has to go home early.”
In other words, Tinder, along with OkCupid, are dating apps for people who don’t want to date. That seems strange. But it is also dangerous.
Last month, The Cut, which is the fashion blog of New York Magazine, published a heartbreaking letter sent to its advice columnist:
I feel like a ghost. I’m a 35-year-old woman, and I have nothing to show for it…
I have no family nearby, no long-term relationship built on years of mutual growth and shared experiences, no children. While I make friends easily, I’ve left most of my friends behind in each city I’ve moved from while they’ve continued to grow deep roots: marriages, homeownership, career growth, community, families, children. I have a few close girlfriends, for which I am grateful, but life keeps getting busier and our conversations are now months apart. Most of my nights are spent alone with my cat (cue the cliché)…
On top of that, I’m 35 and every gyno and women’s-health website this side of the Mississippi is telling me my fertility is dropping faster than a piano falling out of the sky. Now I’m looking into freezing my eggs, adding to my never-ending financial burden, in hopes of possibly making something of this haunted house and having a family someday with a no-named man…
I used to think I was the one who had it all figured out. Adventurous life in the city! Traveling the world! Making memories! Now I feel incredibly hollow. And foolish.
It turns out the carefree, single lifestyle apps like OkCupid and Tinder are promoting is the same lifestyle that leaves many with hollowed souls and deep regrets. OkCupid’s advertisements, which these days are emblazoned with the acronym “DTF,” referring to commitment-free promiscuity, don’t actually deliver the carefree joys and ecstatic pleasures they promise.
God’s words to history’s first single man were: “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Genesis 2:18). So, for Adam, God fashioned Eve, who became his wife. Though this is certainly not a mandate that every person should marry – Jesus Himself was, after all, single – it does testify to the reality that the very order of creation cries out for companionship. And it does mean that ripping certain experiences, like sex, out of the companionship and covenant of marriage by declaring that one is “DTF” is a recipe for disaster.
Make no mistake about it: marriage and family come with many burdens. An adventurous life in the city and traveling the world are often out of the question for those who spend their days baking chicken nuggets, doing dishes, administering baths, and reading Goodnight Moon for the ten-thousandth time. But, for all the burdens marriage and family present, these burdens, when they are carefully considered, have a funny way of beginning to feel like blessings. A family to spend your life with and to give your life to fills your heart in a way that a life sans this often cannot.
Keep this in mind the next time you pick up your phone to swipe right.
+ In Memoriam: George H.W. Bush +
When George H.W. Bush passed away nearly a week and a half ago, our nation lost a statesman, a war hero, and a president.
State funerals are relatively rare, but Mr. Bush, thanks in large part to his service to our nation as its president, received one. However, when his son, George W. Bush, stood in the pulpit of the staid and storied National Cathedral to deliver a eulogy, he spoke not so much of Mr. Bush as a president, but as his father. He reminisced:
To us, he was close to perfect. But not totally perfect. His short game was lousy. He wasn’t exactly Fred Astaire on the dance floor. The man couldn’t stomach vegetables, especially broccoli. And by the way, he passed these genetic defects along to us. Finally, every day of his 73 years of marriage, dad taught us all what it means to be a great husband. He married his sweetheart. He adored her. He laughed and cried with her. He was dedicated to her totally…
In his inaugural address, the 41st president of the United States said this: “We cannot hope to only leave our children a bigger car, a bigger bank account. We must hope to give them a sense of what it means to be a loyal friend, a loving parent. A citizen who leaves his home, his neighborhood, and town better than he found it. What do we want the men and women who work with us to say when we are no longer there? That we were more driven to succeed than anyone around us, or that we stopped to ask if a sick child had gotten better, and stayed a moment there to trade a word of friendship?” Well, dad, we’re gonna remember you for exactly that and much more. And we are going to miss you. Your decency, sincerity, and kind soul will stay with us forever. So through our tears, let us know the blessings of knowing and loving you, a great and noble man, the best father a son or daughter can have.
It was this last line, at which the younger Bush choked up, that captured the hearts of many who were tuning into the service this past Wednesday, for his words were a reminder of what really matters in a life. What is done from an oval-shaped office is certainly historically significant and nationally critical. But what is done around a kitchen table is also significant and critical – perhaps even more so. God calls us to love others personally long before He calls any of us to lead others politically. George H.W. Bush knew this – and lived it.
In his book, The Road to Character, New York Times columnist David Brooks makes a distinction between what he calls “the resume virtues” and “the eulogy virtues.” He writes:
Recently I’ve been thinking about the difference between the resume virtues and the eulogy virtues. The resume virtues are the ones you list on your resume, the skills that you bring to the job market and that contribute to external success. The eulogy virtues are deeper. They’re the virtues that get talked about at your funeral, the ones that exist at the core of your being – whether you are kind, brave, honest or faithful; what kind of relationships you formed.
At Mr. Bush’s funeral, the eulogy virtues were certainly on display. And at a time when many are openly questioning whether or not these types of virtues really matter in public service, the life of George H.W. Bush reminds us that they certainly do. The virtues we cultivate shape the decisions we make, the wisdom we display, and the legacy we leave.
With all of this being said, we must remember that, for all of George H.W. Bush’s commendable and imitable virtues, nobody is perfect. The younger Bush said as much about his father. But, of course, human imperfection goes far deeper and into much more shameful territory than the humorous examples given by George W. Bush of George H.W. Bush. The younger Bush pulled a rhetorical sleight of hand as he spoke not so much of his father’s imperfections, but of his idiosyncrasies. But each casket is a reminder that each of us has been infected by real imperfection, the wages of which is death (Romans 6:23). This is why, as great and as needed as eulogy virtues are, they are not enough. Something more is needed.
Albert Mohler, president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, pointed out that, at a certain moment in last Wednesday’s funeral service, during one of the prayers, Mr. Bush went from being referred to as “President George Herbert Walker Bush” and instead began being referred to as “our brother George.” This was liturgically intentional. The greatest thing that can be said about George H.W. Bush was not that he was a successful man with many resume virtues. But it is also not that he was a good man with many eulogy virtues. Instead, the greatest thing that can be said about George H.W. Bush was that he was a redeemed man, brought into the family of God by the blood of Christ – a brother in Christ.
The eulogy virtues extolled at last week’s funeral leave legacies, which make them of inestimable importance. Redemption, however, gives hope, which makes it of eternal significance. Our brother George may have been a good man, but, even better, one day, through faith in Christ, he will be a resurrected man. His casket will be empty and last week’s funeral will be undone. That’s Christ’s promise. And that’s our hope.
Come, Lord Jesus.
When A Missionary’s Zeal Turns Deadly
The wisdom, or lack thereof, of John Allen Chau’s deadly decision to try to witness to an isolated tribe of indigenous people on North Sentinel Island, off the coast of India, is a topic of hot debate. Initial reports portrayed Mr. Chau as a reckless explorer and mountain climber, seeking adventure in far-flung, exotic locations. It quickly became apparent, however, that he was also a devoted missionary committed to preaching Christ to the Sentinelese people. Although his initial overture to the tribe appeared clumsy – in his journal, he wrote about how he “hollered” to the tribespeople, “My name is John. I love you, and Jesus loves you” – he was also heavily vaccinated and linguistically and medically trained before embarking on his journey. It turns out that Mr. Chau was not just some hotheaded adventurer. He was a calculated planner, even if his planning finally proved to be woefully incomplete.
Among evangelically minded Christians, there is little debate over whether we should share our faith. The call of Jesus Himself is to spread and share His message to and with the world. There is much debate, however, over how we should share our faith. Clawing your way onto a remote and, according to Indian law, off-limits island and confronting tribespeople who are known to be hostile toward, probably because they feel threatened by, outsiders hardly seems like an effective missionary method.
During this time of year, Christians celebrate the incarnation – that the God of the universe took on flesh in the person of Jesus in space and time in the little town of Bethlehem. In His incarnation, Jesus carried out God’s mission by preaching God’s message and doing God’s work of dying for us and for our salvation. Jesus’ incarnation, then, was part and parcel of Jesus’ mission.
In our outreach efforts, Jesus’ life can serve as our model. Mission and incarnation should work together in our lives, too. Our evangelization of any people should always be coupled with a careful contextualization. This is what Mr. Chau appears to have overlooked. He wanted to reach the people of this remote island, but did not have workable plan to enter into their culture and customs, as Jesus did when He became man.
The reality is that, because of the islanders’ hostility toward outsiders and the Indian laws that shield them from modern society, reaching these people will take more than one person’s plan. Coordinated diplomatic efforts will probably be required so laws are not broken and, of course, a careful posture toward the Sentinelese people themselves is absolutely necessary. Building trust with them will take much time and, frankly, in this case, probably nothing less than a miracle of God. But that’s okay. God is, after all, quite good at the miraculous.
I appreciate Mr. Chau’s passion to reach the unreached. And I am saddened by his death. I pray for his family and friends who are, I am sure, grieving. Mr. Chau’s devotion to Christ’s mission is a laudable devotion for any Christian to have. But learning from his dangerous and ultimately deadly strategy is also necessary.
The death of Mr. Chau should call every mission-minded Christian to take some time to learn and reflect so that we can better witness and love. Jesus wants nothing less for the sake of the many souls who are still far from Him.
Happy Thanksgiving
Credit: Max Pixel
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. So much of my day-to-day life centers around what I must do. There are tasks to complete and errands to run and bills to pay and conversations to have and decisions to make and Bible studies and sermons to write and preach. These things to do are often, even if not always, joyous, but Thanksgiving reminds me that I must never get so caught up in what I have to do that I forget about what has already been done. God has done great things for me. He has given me a family I adore, a church I love, and a forgiveness I need. And for these things, I am called to be thankful.
Thanksgiving keeps me humble. When I am tempted to boast in all I have accomplished, Thanksgiving reminds me of all I’ve been given. Even my life itself is a gift of God’s grace. This is why I must continually and humbly rely on Him.
Each year, I make it my tradition to read a Thanksgiving Proclamation from one of our nation’s founders. This year, I came across George Washington’s Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1789. In it, he thanks God:
…for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted; for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.
President Washington rattles of a list of the many blessings for which, he believes, a newly minted nation should be thankful. And he’s right. These are things for which our nation should still be thankful. But what I love most about his proclamation comes in what he says next:
May we then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations, and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions.
President Washington was under no delusion that our nation’s blessings were somehow the product of our nation’s – or her individuals’ – intrinsic merit. This is why he offers not only a prayer of thanksgiving, but a prayer of confession. For he knew that God had blessed this new nation in the same way He has always blessed every nation: by grace.
When God chose Israel to be His people and gave to her a Promised Land, He made sure she knew her blessings came by His grace:
It is not because of your righteousness that the LORD your God is giving you this good land to possess, for you are a stiff-necked people. Remember this and never forget how you aroused the anger of the LORD your God in the wilderness. From the day you left Egypt until you arrived here, you have been rebellious against the LORD. (Deuteronomy 9:6-7)
God did not bless Israel because of her righteousness, but in spite of her unrighteousness. God works this way with every nation and every person.
Ultimately, then, to be thankful is to be repentant, knowing that we have what we have not because we’ve earned it or deserved it, but because God has willed it. Thus, each Thanksgiving, I am called to make little of myself and my accomplishments, which are few, and much of God and His blessings, which are bountiful.
As this long weekend draws to a close, my prayer is that the holiday of Thanksgiving becomes a habit of thanksgiving. After all, I have plenty to be thankful for.
You do, too.
Tragedy in California
Credit: U.S. Department of Agriculture
They are the worst wildfires in the history of the state of California.
Nearly 250,000 acres have burned. 79 people have been killed. Sadly, that number will likely climb as first responders continue their search through the rubble these fires have left behind. The town of Paradise, in the Sierra Nevada foothills, has been especially hard hit, with nearly the whole town being destroyed.
California has had a rough go of it lately. Just two weeks ago, the state endured another tragedy as a gunman opened fire at a country bar filled with college students in Thousand Oaks, killing twelve. The shooter was a Marine Corps veteran who appears to have had all sorts of mental health issues and was, at one time, on the cusp of being committed.
The sheer number of tragedies that roll in through each news cycle can begin to feel overwhelming. For each town that is charred and person that is shot, we ask, “How can we stop this from happening?” Answers to this perennial and pressing question seem to elude us. When tragedies do strike, we are thankful for firefighters who risk their lives on the frontlines of massive and unpredictable blazes and officers who run into hails of bullets rather than away from them. Proactively, we are instructed to keep dry brush away from homes in fire zones and guns out of the hands of mentally disturbed people. But despite our best efforts, the tragedies keep coming. Tragedies, even if they can be somewhat mitigated and managed by us, cannot be successfully stayed by us.
On the surface, the California fires and the California shooting seem to be two different types of tragedies. One is a natural disaster. The other is man-caused carnage. Below the surface, however, these two tragedies share a common core: sin. The fires remind us that the sin that came into the world with Adam and Eve has disordered and distorted the world in profound and frightening ways. The mass shooting reminds us that sin is not just in the world. It is in us. It’s not just that we cannot eradicate the sin that distorts creation; it’s that we cannot even kill the sin in ourselves.
The message of Christianity reminds us that, even as societies scramble to address sin, we need a victory over sin that we cannot gain for ourselves. Sin needs not only our noble actions and timely reactions, but a perfect transaction that exchanges our sad sin for a better righteousness. This is the transaction Christ makes for us on the cross.
Tragedies are sure to continue. And we should be thankful for those fighting on the front lines of those tragedies. But we can also be hopeful that tragedy’s time is short, for sin’s defeat is certain.
The Only Sacrifice You Need
“David Plays the Harp for Saul” by Rembrandt, circa 1650
The downfall of Saul began with a sacrifice.
We usually think of sacrifices as being noble – like when parents sacrifice for their children or when soldiers sacrifice for their country. And these sacrifices certainly are noble. But King Saul’s sacrifice was different. King Saul’s sacrifice was not noble, but self-serving.
In 1 Samuel 15, the prophet Samuel instructs Saul, “Go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy all that belongs to them” (1 Samuel 15:3). Saul does attack the Amalekites. He does defeat the Amalekites. But he does not destroy all that belongs to them:
Saul and the army spared…the best of the sheep and cattle, the fat calves and lambs – everything that was good. These they were unwilling to destroy completely, but everything that was despised and weak they totally destroyed. (1 Samuel 15:9)
Saul disobeys Samuel’s – and, by extension, God’s – instruction. When Samuel confronts Saul in his disobedience, Saul first tries to deny that he disobeyed at all. He says to Samuel, “I have carried out the LORD’s instructions” (1 Samuel 15:13). When Samuel catches him in his lie, Saul claims, “The soldiers spared the best of the sheep and cattle to sacrifice to the LORD your God, but we totally destroyed the rest” (1 Samuel 15:15). Samuel, though, is having none of it. He asks:
Does the LORD delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the LORD? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams … Because you have rejected the word of the LORD, He has rejected you as king. (1 Samuel 15:22-23)
Saul thought he could use a sacrifice to weasel out of his disobedience. He was sorely mistaken.
What was true of Saul’s sacrifice, the Bible says, is true of all sacrifices. God cannot be somehow bribed to overlook sin by a sacrifice. The preacher of Hebrews says of the Old Testament sacrificial system: “Day after day every priest stands and performs his religious duties; again and again he offers the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins” (Hebrews 10:11). Sacrifices do not fix sins. That is, except for one sacrifice: Christ’s. For by Christ’s “one sacrifice He has made perfect forever those who are being made holy” (Hebrews 10:14).
Whereas kings and priests would offer broken sacrifices in their sin, Jesus offered a perfect sacrifice for our sin. The one man who needed no sacrifice for Himself because He was sinless was the one man who made a sacrifice for all in their sinfulness. And His sacrifice changed everything.
The next time you are caught in a sin, then, do not try to hide your sin, like Saul. Instead, confess your sin freely. And do not try slyly redeem yourself by making a sacrifice, like Saul. Instead, rejoice that you have been forgiven by a sacrifice already made. Jesus is all the sacrifice you need.
Midterms 2018
Credit: Lorie Shaull/Flickr
I read somewhere that there’s an election tomorrow.
Actually, unless you haven’t turned on any TV, scrolled through any social media feed, or driven anywhere and seen any billboards or yard signs for the past few months, it’s difficult not to know that there’s an election tomorrow.
For a midterm election, the rhetoric has been unusually hot. The stakes feel unusually high. And, if early voting reports are any indication from across my home state of Texas, people are turning out in record numbers because they are unusually engaged.
Sadly, though much of the voter turnout is surely driven by a sense of civic privilege and responsibility, at least some of it is driven by fear and anger. The thought of having the “other party” or the “other candidate” in power – whichever or whoever the “other party” or the “other candidate” is for you – terrifies and enrages some folks. Civic privilege and responsibility take a backseat to despising and disparaging one’s political enemies.
George Washington, in his farewell address of 1796, warned:
The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension, which in different ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism.
Sound familiar?
Do we live in a political climate marked by “the alternate domination of one faction over another”? Do we ever engage with and exhibit a “spirt of revenge”? George Washington calls this kind of political fist fighting “a frightful despotism.” Why? Because rather than honestly and thoughtfully debating the ideas and principles necessary to maintain any robust republic, we begin to bludgeon and berate other people we see only as evil enemies. We trade our humanity and humility for indignation and domination.
Early each Saturday, I go for a 5 am stroll, cup of coffee in hand, around my neighborhood. This hour of the morning may seem crazy, especially since it is the weekend, but it can’t be that crazy – or, at least, that’s what I tell myself – because I’m not the only one out walking. Each Saturday, my neighbors a couple doors down are also out, walking their dog. We wish each other a good morning and, occasionally, we catch up on neighborhood news.
I noticed the other day that in my neighbors’ yard is a sign for the Senate candidate from Texas for whom I did not vote. I have some deeply held principled differences with this candidate and I gladly voted for his opponent. And yet somehow, despite our differing candidate preferences, my neighbors and I still manage to like each other and care for each other and talk to each other. Why? Because the same principles that lead me to vote in certain ways also remind me that it is “self-evident that all men are created equal” and are therefore worthy of my respect and care even if I disagree with their political positions.
I’m not averse to good political humor and satire. Sometimes, it’s the only way to stay sane in what can often feel like a political circus. I am also all for folks arguing forcibly and persuasively for positions, principles, and even particular politicians as they see fit. And I think it is honorable to go out and vote. And tomorrow, we’ll have the opportunity to do just that. But remember, through every joke that is made, debate that is had, and vote that is cast, we are still called to love our neighbors.
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