Processing Another Malaysia Airlines Tragedy
Credit: AFP/Getty Images
“Following are images from the scene – warning: GRAPHIC.”[1]
This is the caption that greeted me as I was reading through headlines about the crash of Malaysia Airlines passenger flight MH17, shot down by a surface-to-air missile while flying over Ukraine. The crash scene is gut-wrenchingly sad – dozens of pictures of smoldering wreckage, many of these with portions blurred out to cover up the gruesome sights of human remains. It’s no surprise, then, that before I scrolled through images from the scene posted by Business Insider, they included the above warning.
Regardless of whether this missile strike was an accidental shooting down of an airliner that was thought to be a military transport jet or an intentional targeting of civilians, the precipitating cause in this crisis, according to experts, is Russia’s conflict with Ukraine. The New York Times editorial board posted an excellent opinion piece, calling on Russian President Vladimir Putin to put a stop to not only tragedies like these, but to end a war of his own making against Ukraine:
Growing casualties on the ground, a major escalation of American sanctions against Russia, a military plane shot down and now the appalling destruction of a Malaysian jetliner with 298 people on board, shot by a surface-to-air missile. The Ukrainian conflict has gone on far too long, and it has become far too dangerous.
There is one man who can stop it – President Vladimir Putin of Russia, by telling the Russian-backed separatists in eastern Ukraine to end their insurgency and by stopping the flow of money and heavy weaponry to those groups. But for all his mollifying words and gestures, Mr. Putin has only continued to stoke the flames by failing to shut down those pipelines, failing to support a cease-fire and avoiding serious, internationally mediated negotiations.[2]
Mr. Putin is so obsessed with getting to Ukraine, it seems, that even the tragic loss of a civilian airliner is not too large a price to pay to pacify his Macbethian-style political and empire-building ambitions. But the pictures from this airliner crash are rallying the world into sharp disagreement with the Russian president. This must stop.
Of all the grueling pictures I have seen from this story, the one I posted at the beginning of this blog has perhaps touched my heart most deeply. There was no warning caption of graphic content posted above this image, but there should have been. For far more tragic than smoldering wreckage are the shattered lives of those who have lost loved ones. A girl’s grief is far more explicit than a flaming fuselage.
My parents used to warn me, “Power corrupts.” After following this story, I wish that was all power could do. For whether from the halls of the Kremlin or from an open plane dotted by missiles, in this instance, power didn’t just corrupt. It killed. Is it any wonder that, as Christians, we rejoice in the promise that “all authority in heaven and on earth” has been given to Jesus (Matthew 28:18)? After all, He seems to be the only one who knows how to use it – at least perfectly. For He uses His power not to kill, but to make alive (cf. John 10:10).
May Jesus’ perfect use of power be a comfort and consolation to those who have lost loved ones in this depraved display of aggression.
________________________
[1] Michael B. Kelley, “More Than 300 People Killed As Passenger Plane Shot Down In East Ukraine,” Business Insider (7.17.2014).
[2] The Editorial Board, “Vladimir Putin Can Stop This War,” The New York Times (7.17.2014).
Decidophobia
Credit: thebeaconmag.com
I have a confession to make: I suffer from decidophobia.
Now, before you accuse me of making up words, this term is not my own. Walter Kaufmann, who served as a philosophy professor for over 30 years at Princeton, coined it. He explains decidophobia like this:
In the fateful decisions that mold our future, freedom becomes tangible; and they are objects of extreme dread. Every such decision involves norms, standards, goals. Treating these as given lessens this dread. The comparison and choice of goals and standards arouses the most intense decidophobia.[1]
Here’s what Kaufmann is saying: decisions form futures. Those who suffer from decidophobia worry that their decisions will tank their futures.
Now, to a certain extent, this is true. Foolish decisions can lead to bad futures. If one wracks up a lot of debt now, it leads to a lot of bills in the future. If one is having an affair now, it can lead to a heart-wrenching divorce in the future.
But there are other decisions – decisions that don’t always carry with them the ethical clarity that getting into a bottomless pit of debt or having an affair do. Decisions like, “What job should I take?” “What vehicle should I buy?” “What house should I live in?” I am trying to make a decision on the last of these three quandaries. And I have come down with a bad case of decidophobia.
As I have looked at neighborhoods and floor plans and features and storage space, I’ve become worried and concerned. Will I make the right decision? But here’s what I’ve come to realize: decisions like these, though not always easy, are not devastatingly determinative of my future. If a house does not have all the features I might like, it will still provide me with a roof over my head at the end of the day. If a job you take does not meet all your dreams and expectations, you will still have a paycheck at the end of your pay period. If a car you buy isn’t the one you’ve dreamed of since you were a teenager, it will still get you from point A to point B by the end of your trip.
I have long suspected that God gives us some decisions to make not to teach us about decisions themselves, but to teach us about the anxiety that so many of us feel when we are in the throws of a decision-making process. I read somewhere that we should “not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:34). Many of the decisions we make carry with them no biblical mandate. Any decision we make will be fine. Being free from worry, however, does carry with it a biblical mandate. That’s why it’s time to stop incessantly fretting. Decidophobia is sinful.
So what’s causing you decidophobia? Before you get your stomach tied in knots, remind yourself of Christ’s words in Matthew 6:34. These decisions are not worth your worry. You are in God’s care.
___________________________
[1] Walter Kaufmann, Without Guilt and Justice: From Decidophobia to Autonomy (New York: Peter H. Wyden, Inc., 1973), 3.
It’s Not About The Supreme Court Ruling
Credit: Wikipedia
There was the ruling. And then there was the reaction to the ruling. When the Supreme Court ruled in favor of the arts and crafts chain Hobby Lobby, saying it did not have to pay for certain types of birth control as mandated by the Affordable Care Act because it considered them abortifacients which violated the theological beliefs of the company’s owners, the reaction was swift and fierce – from both sides. Mark Goldfeder, senior fellow at the Center for the Study of Law and Religion at Emory University, announced:
Here is what the decision means: People have First Amendment rights, and even if the corporations themselves are not entitled to Free Exercise exemptions, the people behind the corporate veil, the business owners themselves, certainly are.
On the other side, Judy Waxman, vice president of health and reproductive rights at the National Women’s Law Center, lamented:
We think it’s a bitter pill to swallow for women, and that the decision is saying that bosses know best and their religious beliefs can trump very basic health-care coverage. It’s especially harmful to women, but beyond this, down the line, there will be other cases, other challenges, that could have an even broader effect.[1]
Of course, along with these measured responses, there were also the less measured responses of the Twitterverse, like one post advocating arson: “#HobbyLobby are scum of the earth. Burn every single one down, build a homeless shelter there instead.”[2] Then, there was another very humble post from a person who agreed with SCOTUS’s ruling: “Ha. Ha. It’s The. Law.”[3]
What fascinates me about all these responses – whether they be sophisticated or sleazy – is how little they have to do with the actual legal ins and outs of this case and how much they reflect the radically disparate worldviews of our society. I have found no better synopsis of the clash of worldviews in this case than this from Trevin Wax:
A generation ago, a person’s religious observance was a public matter, a defining characteristic of one’s identity, while a person’s sexual activity was something private. Today, this situation is reversed. A person’s sexual behavior is now considered a defining characteristic of identity, a public matter to be affirmed (even subsidized) by others, while religious observance is private and personal, relegated to places of worship and not able to infringe upon or impact the public square.
The culture clash today is less about the role of religion in business or politics, and more about which vision of humanity best leads to flourishing and should therefore be enshrined in or favored by law.[4]
This is exactly right. Different people value different things. For some, their faith is their defining characteristic. Thus, they have a strong desire to practice their faith in every area and aspect of their lives, including their business dealings. For others, some other thing – like their sexuality – is their defining characteristic. And anything perceived as an affront to their sexual identity is worthy of unrestrained caustic choler.
As a Christian, I really have no choice when it comes to how I will define myself: my life must be defined by Christ. In the words of the apostle Paul, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). So what does this mean for my interactions with those who define themselves by other things? A few things come to mind.
First, I must love those with differing worldviews. As Ed Stetzer so pointedly says in his article on the Hobby Lobby ruling, “You can’t hate a people and reach a people at the same time.”[5] People who live outside a Christian worldview are not to be destroyed or oppressed in a political or judicial power grab, but loved through a winsome witness.
Second, I must realize that my worldview is no longer a privileged majority worldview in our society. Indeed, many people are not at all concerned that a Christian may be legislatively or legally forced to do something that goes against his conscience. Again, Ed Stetzer writes, “Most Americans are not as passionate about the religious liberty issue (when connected to contraception, even abortifacient contraception) as most evangelicals and conservative Catholics.” Trevin Wax reveals that “a record number of Americans (1 in 3) said the first amendment [which grants religious liberty] goes too far in the freedom it promises.” This is just a reality.
Third, I must make the case – through both a rigorous intellectual defense and a gentle, quiet lifestyle – why my worldview should be seriously considered and why it does indeed lead to true human flourishing. It is important to note that this case cannot be made quickly. Indeed, it cannot even be made by just my life or in just my lifetime. No, this is a case the whole Church must make. And blessedly, the Church has been making it for millennia. For instance, the Church made its case here. And here. And here. And here. This is why I doubt any Supreme Court ruling – be it in favor of or against religious liberty – will kill the Church’s case. For this is the case and cause of Christ.
Let’s keep making it.
______________________________
[1] Ashby Jones, “Legal Experts, Advocates React to Supreme Court’s Hobby Lobby Ruling,” The Wall Street Journal (6.30.2014).
[2] Costa Koutsoutis, @costa_kout, 6.30.2014
[3] Harriet Baldwin, @HarrietBaldwin, 6.30.2014
[4] Trevin Wax, The Supreme Court Agrees With Hobby Lobby, But Your Neighbor Probably Doesn’t,” The Gospel Coalition (6.30.2014).
[5] Ed Stetzer, “Hobby Lobby Wins: Where Do We Go from Here?” The Exchange (6.30.2014).
Practicing Patience
The other day, I drove down to the Social Security office to apply to get a Social Security card for my daughter, Hope. Because she is adopted, she did not get one issued to her at the hospital. While I was on my way to visit my local friendly government agency, the skies opened up, thunder clapped, and rain poured down, slowing traffic to a crawl.
Now, usually, I hate being stuck in traffic. I’m always looking for a way to weave in and out of traffic and find that elusive lane that is going 40 miles per hour faster than all the other lanes. But not so on this day. It was raining so hard that, quite frankly, I was glad traffic was moving at a snail’s pace. I’d rather slosh down the road slowly and arrive safely at my destination than try to gun it and wind up in a wreck.
As I sat there contentedly in a sea of brake lights, my thoughts were drawn to the virtue of patience. After all, for once in my life, I actually felt patient. Here is what I realized in my moments spent reflecting: the virtue of patience leads to other virtues. It is what I call a “funnel virtue.” That is, if you practice patience, it will funnel you in to other important virtues.
For instance, take the virtue of responsibility. At the end of the day, my wife directs Hope to clean up her toys. But directing a one-year-old to clean up toys is never an easy – or a quick – task. Hope will drop a toy in her toy basket only to immediately pull it out again. But Melody knows it’s important to teach Hope responsibility. But to teach the virtue responsibility, Melody first needs to exercise the virtue of patience (which she does marvelously, by the way). Patience funnels into responsibility.
Or how about the virtue of joy? The disease of road rage is well documented. Drivers lose their minds because they feel the person in front of them is going too slow. But what would happen if they were patient? Perhaps they would rediscover the joy of a Sunday drive – motoring down the road more to take in the sights rater than to reach a destination. Patience could funnel into joy.
Then, of course, there is the virtue of love. There is perhaps no better expression of love than patience. This is why the very first virtue that Paul uses to describe love in 1 Corinthians 13:4 is, “Love is patient.” To be patient with someone teaches you to love someone because it forces you to put someone else’s pace and schedule above of and in front of your own.
Finally, patience also can serve as a funnel to fuller faith. Right now, we are in the process of buying a new home. I cannot tell you how many times I have prayed to God for an answer about something pertaining to this process…right now! God is answering my requests in some pretty miraculous ways, just not according to my schedule. And I am having to remember and re-learn that God really does have this all under control and I can trust Him to work things out. But here’s the key: the longer I have to wait on Him, the more I learn to trust Him. Patience funnels into faith.
As it turns out, when I got to the Social Security office, I was not able to get a card for Hope. The documentation requirements that I read in the Social Security brochure did not match the documentation requirements they had at the Social Security office. I left empty handed with an errand list of other government agencies I had to visit to get the required documents. I had wasted my time. And I found I was not nearly as patient on the way back from the Social Security office as I was on the way to the Social Security office.
Perhaps my patience funnel still has room to expand.
Four Lessons From The Spurs You Probably Already Know
Credit: Getty Images
This past week was a great one to be living in San Antonio. For the fifth time in franchise history, the San Antonio Spurs brought home the title of NBA National Champions. As much as I enjoyed watching Game 5 of the National Championship and seeing the Spurs come back from a 16-point deficit to win 104 to 87, the Spurs have a lot more going for them than just one big win in one big game. Their words and demeanor season after season offer some good, even if simple, lessons. Here are four that I’ve been thinking about.
A Lesson in Teamwork
The Spurs, as sportscasters, fans, and bystanders alike will tell you, are a team. But not just in the sense that they all happen to be wearing the same jersey. No, they play like a team. They act like a team. And they win like a team. Benjamin Morris noted that the Spurs “had nine different players take four or more field goal attempts per game throughout the playoffs, compared to just six for Miami.”[1] In San Antonio, everybody gets to play because, in San Antonio, everybody needs to play to bring home a win.
Playing as a team, of course, is needed not only on the court, but in the Christian life. To meet the challenges we face, everybody needs to play together. I think of the apostle Paul and all of his teammates, or, as he called them, “partners” (e.g., 2 Corinthians 8:23; Philippians 1:5; Philemon 1:7), in the gospel. With whom do you need to team up so you can share and show God’s love more effectively?
A Lesson in Humility
When Kawhi Leonard was named Most Valuable Player for the Finals, his shock was apparent – and endearing. I loved how he responded to his high honor: “Right now, it’s just surreal to me,” he said. “I have a great group of guys behind me.”[2] Kawhi knew he performed great in Game 5. But he also knew it wasn’t just about him. It was about them – all the Spurs behind him.
In a world where Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram are full of people shouting, “Look at me!” – to have a man point to the men behind him is impressive and important. This is true humility. Indeed, true humility is not about degrading yourself, but about lifting others up, which Leonard did beautifully. Who can you point to in humility?
A Lesson in Perseverance
Before they were the National Champion San Antonio Spurs of 2014, they were the team that let everything slip through their fingers in 2013. The front page of the San Antonio Express-News reflected last year’s heartbreak in its headline: “REDEMPTION!” But it took 362 days after a heartbreaking Game 6 loss to get that redemption. 362 long days. “A day didn’t go by when I didn’t think about Game 6,” said Coach Gregg Popovich. “For the group to have the fortitude to get back to this spot speaks volumes.”[3] The Spurs took a fall, yes, but they turned that fall into fuel for fortitude. In the words of Tim Duncan, “What happened last year definitely helped our drive … We could have reacted in different ways. We reacted the right way.”
Where you in your life do you need to persevere? Where do you need to take things that go wrong and learn from them so you can do right?
A Lesson in Inclusion
Scott Cacciola of The New York Times recently published an article hailing the Spurs as “The United Nations of the Hardwood”:
The Spurs, as has been well established, have developed an international flair under Coach Gregg Popovich. Eight players on the current roster were born outside the United States. Loosely translated, that means the Spurs use at least four languages – English, Spanish, French and Italian – to communicate among themselves.
Manu Ginobili, an Argentine, is the team’s one-man version of the United Nations, capable of conversing in Spanish with his Brazilian teammate Tiago Splitter and in Italian with Marco Belinelli, who was born outside Bologna. (Ginobili speaks in English with everybody else.)
Boris Diaw, who is from France, converses en français with Tony Parker, who was born in Belgium but grew up in France. Both players also know some Italian, enough to eavesdrop on conversations between Ginobili and Belinelli.
Even the two team’s two Australians, Patty Mills and Aron Baynes, have their own dialect.
“We’ll hear them and be like, ‘Whoa!’” the assistant coach Chad Forcier said.
Tim Duncan, who is from the United States Virgin Islands, is considered an international player by the NBA.[4]
During the championship ceremony, many of these players wrapped themselves in the flags of their home countries.
The inclusion of so many men from so many places, all together on one team, makes me smile. It reminds me of the promise that anyone from any “nation, tribe, people and language” (Revelation 7:9) can be included as one redeemed by the Lamb through faith. And the more, the merrier. That’s why one of my prayers is that heaven is chocked full. I’d hate to see one empty corner where a person could have been. So would the Lord. He wants as many people included in His Kingdom as possible. Who can you pray for to be included in eternity’s celebration?
In reality, these lessons are pretty simple and straightforward. Indeed, I suspect you have probably already learned these lessons somewhere along the way. Nothing in this blog is probably news to you. But lessons don’t have to be esoteric and unknown to be profound and helpful. They just have to be true. And these lessons most certainly are. That’s why I thought we could all use a little reminder.
So congratulations, Spurs. And thanks for the lessons. They’re great.
________________________________
[1] Benjamin Morris, “The Spurs Were an Outlier of Unselfishness,” FiveThirtyEight (6.17.2014).
[2] Associated Press, “Kawhi Leonard named Finals MVP,” ESPN (6.16.2014).
[3] Jeff McDonald, “High five! Spurs dethrone Heat for fifth NBA championship,” San Antonio Express-News (6.15.2014)
[4] Scott Cacciola, “The United Nations of the Hardwood,” The New York Times (6.15.2014).
Why I Don’t Read The Bible Literally (But I Do Take It Seriously)
It never ceases to amaze me how misunderstood the orthodox Christian belief concerning Holy Scripture is. Even The New York Times can’t seem to figure it out. Take Charles Blow, an op-ed columnist for the Times, who stands stunned at the views of many Americans on the Bible. With a mixture of disbelief and disdain, he reports:
One Gallup report issued last week found that 42 percent of Americans believe “God created humans in their present form 10,000 years ago.”
Even among people who said that they were “very familiar” with the theory of evolution, a third still believed that God created humans in their present form 10,000 years ago.
It’s not clear what the respondents meant by being “very familiar” – did they fully understand the science upon which evolution’s based, or was their understanding something short of that, as in, very familiar with it as being antithetical to creationist concepts?
Whatever the case, on this issue as well as many others in America, the truth is not the light.[1]
Blow goes on to cite people’s opinions on the Bible itself according to this same Gallup pole:
Nearly a third of Americans continue to believe that the Bible “is the actual word of God and is to be taken literally, word for word.”
Furthermore, nearly half believe that it is “the inspired word of God but not everything in it should be taken literally.”
About a fifth of Americans said they believe the Bible is “an ancient book of fables, legends, history, and moral precepts recorded by man.”
The questions Gallup asks concerning the nature and character of the Bible frustrate me. Gallup wants to know, “Do you believe the Bible is the actual word of God and is to be taken literally, word for word?” Personally, I would have to answer “yes” and “no.” Do I believe the Bible is “the actual word of God”? Yes. Do I believe it is to be “taken literally, word for word”? No. But this is not because I want to discredit the Bible’s veracity, authority, or inerrancy. Rather, this is because I follow the Bible’s lead when it interprets itself non-literally in some places. The Bible is full of metaphors, symbols, and other figures of speech as even an elementary reading of it will uncover. One need look no farther than “The LORD is my shepherd” (Psalm 23) to find a metaphor – and a beautiful metaphor, I would add – of Scripture. Thus, I would find myself more at ease with Gallup’s second position: “The Bible is the inspired word of God but not everything in it should be taken literally.”
Blow, however, summarily dismisses this second position:
I am curious which parts would get a pass from most of these respondents and which wouldn’t. Would the origins of the world fall into the literal camp? What about the rules – all or some – in books like Deuteronomy?
Perhaps Blow has not yet discovered the difference between reading something literally and reading something contextually. Just because I don’t practice, for instance, the sacrifices outlined in Deuteronomy doesn’t mean I don’t understand them literally. It just means that I read them in light of Hebrews 10:10: “We have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” Christ’s sacrifice for sin put an end to all those Old Testament sacrifices for sin. For me to try to follow those laws would be like me taking a ticket for an Elvis concert, going to the venue listed thereon, and expecting a concert usher to let me in! Though I may read the ticket “literally,” that ticket’s time is past. So it is with the Old Testament sacrificial system. Its time too is past because it has been fulfilled by Christ. But that isn’t me reading the Bible non-literally. That’s just me reading the Bible contextually.
I suspect part of the reason Blow disparages option two when it comes to reading and interpreting the Bible is because, for him, only option three, which says the Bible is “an ancient book of fables, legends, history, and moral precepts recorded by man,” is viable. He writes:
I don’t seek to deny anyone the right to believe as he or she chooses. I have at points in my own life been quite religious, and my own children have complicated views about religion. As my oldest son once told me, “I’d hate to live in a world where a God couldn’t exist.”
That is his choice, as it is every individual’s choice, and I respect it.
What worries me is that some Americans seem to live in a world where facts can’t exist.
Facts such as the idea that the world is ancient, and that all living things evolved and some – like dinosaurs – became extinct. Facts like the proven warming of the world. Facts like the very real possibility that such warming could cause a catastrophic sea-level rise.
Ah yes, facts. Facts like the Bohr model of the atom or the rallying cry of biogenetics: “Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.” Oh, wait. Those “facts” turned out to be not quite as factual as we once thought. Contrary to Blow, I’m not so sure that a great uprising of people who want facts to not exist is the problem. The problem is there are people who disagree with him on what the fullness of the facts are and how the data that form the facts should be interpreted. Now, I’m not saying these other people are correct on the facts. I’m just saying these other people with other thoughts on what the facts are that contradict Blow’s thoughts on what the facts are not necessarily rejecting facts themselves.
Blow says he is “both shocked and fascinated by Americans’ religious literalism.” I don’t think he even understands what “religious literalism” is. Nor do I think he understands that many serious people of faith understand and trust the Bible theologically, morally, and historically without always reading it literally. No wonder he’s so shocked and fascinated. He simply doesn’t understand. Then again, I’m not so sure he wants to.
__________________________
[1] Charles Blow, “Religious Constriction,” The New York Times (6.8.2014).
A Deal With The Devil: How We Got Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl
Credit: Getty Images
One of my favorite movie lines comes at the end of “The American President.” After being excoriated by his opponent, Senator Bob Rumson, President Andrew Shepherd storms into the Press Briefing Room to deliver an apologetic for his presidency and his personal life with the cameras rolling. One of the things he says in this press conference that has long stuck with me is, “America isn’t easy.”
I couldn’t agree more. In twenty-first century America, we face tough challenges. We have to navigate complex issues. America isn’t easy.
The latest example of this truism comes to us courtesy the case of Army Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl. He was captured by the Taliban in 2009. On May 31 of this year, he was released. If this was all there was to this story, this would be a story of unambiguous triumph and joy. But the devil, as they say, is in the details. And the details here are sketchy, conflicting, and disturbing.
First, there is the detail of how Sergeant Bergdahl was captured. He claims it’s because he fell behind on a patrol and the Taliban swept in and abducted him. The Taliban claims he was captured drunk and wandering off base. According to an investigation by the Pentagon, Bergdahl may have deserted his unit – walking away from his post, which led to his capture. In an email dated June 27, 2009, Bergdahl expressed a rising dissatisfaction with his military service: “I am ashamed to be an american. And the title of US soldier is just the lie of fools.”[1] If Sergeant Bergdahl’s claims concerning his capture are true, this is a tragedy. If the Taliban’s claims are true, Bergdahl was foolish. But if the Pentagon’s story pans out, this is a story of one man’s faithlessness toward his brothers-in-arms. How all this began matters.
Then, there is the detail of what Sergeant Bergdahl’s release cost. Our government brokered a deal with the Taliban that released five Guantanamo Bay detainees in exchange for Bergdahl’s freedom. Before this deal, no fewer than five soldiers died on missions to rescue Bergdahl – all this for a man who may have despised many of the very people who were trying to rescue him. What Sergeant Bergdahl’s release cost matters.
So, what is the appropriate response to this sordid affair? At this point, I think it’s best to say there is no appropriate response – not because there is no appropriate response period, but because we do not have enough facts to formulate the kind of comprehensive response that this story demands and deserves. Thus, I am not so interested in deconstructing the details of this story itself, but I do want to address some of the ethical questions it raises. People want to know: “Was it right to sacrifice five lives and release five criminals for the freedom of a man who could have been a deserter?” “What price should we be willing to pay for the civic freedom of one person?” And, of course, “Is it ever right for the U.S. to negotiate with terrorists?”
In one sense, the saga of Sergeant Bergdahl is parabolic for the limits of human ethical decisions. Here, we have both good and bad comingled. Freeing a Prisoner of War – that’s good. Sacrificing the lives of at least five soldiers and releasing five hardened criminals – that’s bad. We did something bad to get something good. How do you reconcile that?
Such ethical angst is perhaps best encapsulated by Bruce Hoffman, director of Georgetown University’s Center for Security Studies, in an interview with USA Today. Commenting on our government’s deal with the Taliban, he notes that though the United States’ official stance is that we do not negotiate with terrorists, this is
…repeated as mantra more than fact. We have long negotiated with terrorists. Virtually every other country in the world has negotiated with terrorists despite pledges never to … We should be tough on terrorists, but not on our fellow countrymen who are their captives, which means having to make a deal with the devil when there is no alternative.[2]
Hoffman is right. We made a deal with the devil. And granted, out of this deal, some good has come: a soldier has been reunited with with his family. But whether or not any other good comes out of this deal remains to be seen. Questions concerning Bergdahl’s conduct still need to be asked and families who have lost loved ones in attempts to rescue this soldier still need to be comforted. This much I do know, however: deals with the devil are never as good as we think they are. There are always hidden costs and huge catches. In fact, as far as I can tell, only one deal with the devil has ever been truly successful. It’s the one where someone said: “Let’s make a deal. You can strike My heel. But I get to crush your head.”
May that divine deal help us navigate the moral complexities and save us from the moral compromises of our fallen deals.
___________________________
[1] Michael Hastings, “America’s Last Prisoner of War,” Rolling Stone (6.7.2012).
[2] Alan Gomez, “Is it ever right to negotiate with terrorists?” USA Today (6.2.2014).
Wisdom That’s Not So Wise
Credit: wired.com
It was G.K. Chesterton who said, “It is always easy to let the age have its head; the difficult thing is to keep one’s own. It is always easy to be a modernist; as it is easy to be a snob.”[1] There just seems to be something about one’s own age the dupes those living in it into thinking they are living in the best age – they are living at the pinnacle of human achievement, intelligence, and insight, unsurpassed by anything that has come before it, or, for that matter, anything that will come after it.
Case in point: Albert Schweitzer, in his seminal work The Quest of the Historical Jesus, opens by touting his credentials:
When, at some future day, our period of civilization shall lie, closed and completed, before the eyes of later generations, German theology will stand out as great, a unique phenomenon in the mental and spiritual life of our time. For nowhere save in the German temperament can there be found in the same perfection the living complex of conditions and factors – of philosophic though, critical acumen, historical insight, and religious feeling – without which no deep philosophy is possible.[2]
At least Schweitzer doesn’t have a confidence problem.
The ironic thing about Schweitzer’s opening paragraph is that on the back of this very book is this review: “Schweitzer’s … proposals no longer command endorsement.” In other words, Schweitzer, who thought his age was so wise that the people, and specifically the Germans, in it could in no way be mistaken, were, in fact, mistaken. Perhaps his German pedigree wasn’t as intellectually impenetrable as he thought it was.
Whether or not we are as unabashedly arrogant as Schweitzer, we all, to one extent or another, use our age as the measuring rod for all ages. We project the sensibilities of our age back onto the past and even forward into the future.
Greg Miller of Wired Science recently published a pithy little post, “Here’s How People 100 Years Ago Thought We’d Be Living Today.”[3] Ed Fries, the former vice president of game publishing at Microsoft, shared with Miller a fascinating cache of vintage European postcards that offer a glimpse of how the people of yesteryear thought we would be living in our years. For instance, there is one postcard featuring a prop plane with a spotlight and luggage attached to the top of the cabin ushering a group of tourists to the moon for “just another weekend trip.” The year, according to the postcard, is 2012. Are any rockets needed? No. And the people on the aircraft seem to be blissfully unconcerned with the fact that their cabin is not pressurized. Another postcard features a videophone, projecting its picture onto a wall, just like the movies of the early 1900’s did. Apparently, those at the turn of the 20th century simply could not envision the hand-held screens we enjoy today. Perhaps most comically, the people in all of these postcards are decked out in their early 1900’s wears. As Miller wryly notes, though everything else underwent radical evolutions, “fashion stayed frozen in time.”
For all the fanciful things these postcards envision, they are embarrassingly transparent products of their time. No one would mistake these as accurate or modern depictions of our age. The people of the early 1900’s, it seems, were stuck in the early 1900’s.
We would do well to remember that just like the people of the early 1900’s were stuck in the early 1900’s, the people of the early 2000’s are, well, stuck in the early 2000’s. We too are products of our time. Not that this is all bad. Our age has much too offer. But our age cannot lead us to disparage other ages – especially past ages. For the wisdom of the past that we discount as foolishness in the present may just be the wisdom of our present that will be discounted as foolishness in the future. In other words, we should take the wisdom of our age with a grain of salt.
One of the wonderful things about Scripture is that it self-consciously bucks the human tendency to jump on the bandwagon of whatever zeitgeist happens to be popular at any given moment. Indeed, it sees past learning as key to present wisdom. As the apostle Paul says, “For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (Romans 15:4). This is why, according to one count, the Old Testament is cited in the New Testament some 263 times.[4] Wisdom, according to Scripture, cannot be confined to just one age. It needs many ages.
When you look at your present, then, don’t assume that your day is the greatest day and your generation the greatest generation. Or, to use the words of Moses, “Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past” (Deuteronomy 32:7). Wisdom is not just when you are. It was before you. And it will continue after you. Wise, therefore, is the person whose memory and vision is long.
______________________
[1] G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (New York: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1908).
[2] Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus (Mineola: Dover Publications, Inc., 1911), 1.
[3] Greg Miller, “Here’s How People 100 Years Ago Thought We’d Be Living Today,” wired.com (5.28.2014).
[4] “New Testament Citations of the Old Testament,” crossway.org (3.17.2006).
“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” Lives!
Apparently, “Don’t ask, don’t tell” didn’t die in our Armed Forces, it just moved to our marriages. Recently, Redbook published a part-confessional, part-apologetic exposé titled, “How Affairs Make My Marriage Stronger.” The author, who, not surprisingly, chose to remain anonymous, opens salaciously:
It’s a Wednesday night, and my boyfriend and I are drinking wine and making out in the back booth of a dimly lit bar. It feels like nothing else in the world exists…until my phone vibrates.
“It’s my husband. The kids are in bed,” I say, then put my phone in my purse and pull my boyfriend toward me. I spend half a second staring at the diamond on my engagement ring before hiding my hand from my sight line. It’s not a secret that I’m married, but it’s also not something I want to think about right now.
Am I a horrible person? Without context, I know I sound horrible. But in my marriage, having affairs works. My husband and I don’t talk about it. But I’m certain our don’t-ask-don’t-tell rule is what has allowed our marriage to last as long as it has.
Notice that I didn’t say we’re in an open marriage – we’re not. An open marriage is transparent, with agreed-upon rules and an understanding of what both parties will and will not do with others. My marriage is opaque.[1]
What a sham of a marriage – full of affairs and cover-ups. It should be a soap opera. Instead, it’s real life.
What I find most striking about this apologetic for adultery is how kitschy it is – even according to the author’s own admission. In a telling line, she concedes, “The more I think about it, the less okay I am with our lifestyle, so I’ve become pretty good at shutting down that part of my brain.” If there ever was a line that affirmed the inescapably reality of natural, moral law, this is it! No matter what she may claim about she and her husband’s affairs, she can’t escape the feeling that something isn’t right. As the apostle Paul explains: “The requirements of the law are written on [people’s] hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them” (Romans 2:15).
As much moral ire as this article raises in me, it raises even more sympathetic pain. It’s hard to listen to this woman divulge her deeply held fears without having my heart broken:
Truth be told, I do worry that Dave might fall in love with someone else. That’s why when I see his secret smiles or notice him spending tons of time texting, I step it up on my end, asking him to be home on a certain night and initiating sex. I remind him how much I love him and how much our marriage means to me.
What’s the title of this article again? “How Affairs Make My Marriage Stronger”? What a lie. So let’s try some truth:
I take you to be my wedded beloved, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy will; and I pledge to you my faithfulness.
You took the vow. You made the promise. So keep it. You’ll be better for it. Your heart will be filled with it. And you’ll please God by it.
_______________________
[1] Anonymous, as told to Anna Davies, “How Affairs Make My Marriage Stronger,” Redbook (5.18.2014).
#Blessed
Credit: socialmediaexaminer.com
I don’t know how many times I’ve received the prayer request. But it’s definitely more times than I can remember. “Pray that God will bless my…” and then fill in the blank. “Finances.” “Job Search.” “Move.” “Golf Game.” “Baby Shower.” And the list could go on and on.
Now, on the one hand, I have no particular problem with these kinds of prayer requests per se. Indeed, when people come to me with these kinds of prayers, I gladly oblige. But on the other hand, even though we pray to be blessed, I’m not so sure we always understand what it truly entails to be blessed, at least not biblically.
The other day, I came across an article by Jessica Bennett of The New York Times chronicling all the blessings she has stumbled across on social media. She opens:
Here are a few of the ways that God has touched my social network over the past few months:
S(he) helped a friend get accepted into graduate school. (She was “blessed” to be there.)
S(he) made it possible for a yoga instructor’s Caribbean spa retreat. (“Blessed to be teaching in paradise,” she wrote.)
S(he) helped a new mom outfit her infant in a tiny designer frock. (“A year of patiently waiting and it finally fits! Feeling blessed.”)
S(he) graced a colleague with at least 57 Facebook wall postings about her birthday. (“So blessed for all the love,” she wrote, to approximately 900 of her closest friends.)
God has, in fact, recently blessed my network with dazzling job promotions, coveted speaking gigs, the most wonderful fiancés ever, front row seats at Fashion Week, and nominations for many a “30 under 30” list. And, blessings aren’t limited to the little people, either. S(he) blessed Macklemore with a wardrobe designer (thanks for the heads up, Instagram!) and Jamie Lynn Spears with an engagement ring (“#blessed #blessed #blessed!” she wrote on Twitter). S(he)’s been known to bless Kanye West and Kim Kardashian with exotic getaways and expensive bottles of Champagne, overlooking sunsets of biblical proportion (naturally).[1]
Apparently, Bennett has a lot of extraordinarily “blessed” friends. She even tells the story of a girl who posted a picture of her posterior on Facebook with the caption, “Blessed.” Really?
The theology behind the kind of blessing Bennett outlines is shallow at best and likely heretical in actuality. The so-called “god” who bestows these social media blessings is ill-defined and vacuous, as Bennett intimates with her references to “god” as “s(he),” and the blessings from this divine turn out to be quite petty. Frocks that fit, birthday wishes on Facebook, and financial windfalls all qualify to be part of the “blessed” life.
All this leads Bennett to suspect that these “blessings” are really nothing more than people cynically
… invoking holiness as a way to brag about [their] life … Calling something “blessed,” has become the go-to term for those who want to boast about an accomplishment while pretending to be humble, fish for a compliment, acknowledge a success (without sounding too conceited), or purposely elicit envy.
That sounds about right. “Blessed” is just a word people use to thinly disguise a brag.
True biblical blessing, of course, is quite different – and much messier. Jesus’ list of blessings sounds quite different from what you’ll find on Facebook:
Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. (Luke 6:20-22)
Poverty, hunger, mourning, and persecution all qualify to be part of the blessed life. Why? Because true blessing involves much more than what happens to you in this life. It involves God’s promises for the next.
All this is not to say that the good gifts we receive in this life are not blessings. But such blessings must be received with a proper perspective – that they are blessings not just because we happen to like them, but because it is God who gives them. Indeed, one of the most interesting features of the Hebrew word for “blessing,” barak, is that it can be translated either as “bless” (e.g., Numbers 6:24) or as “curse” (e.g., Psalm 10:3), depending on context. What makes the difference between whether something is a blessing or a curse? Faith – a confidence that a blessing is defined not in terms of what something is, but in terms of who gives it. This is why when we are poor, hungry, mourning, and persecuted, we can still be blessed. Because we can still have the Lord. And there is no better blessing than Him.
Put that on Instagram.
__________________________
[1] Jessica Bennett, “They Feel ‘Blessed,’” The New York Times (5.2.2014).
Pastor Zach's Blog 