Posts tagged ‘Spirituality’
The Questions God Won’t Answer
It had to be a frustrating experience for the disciples. They wanted Jesus to answer what they thought was a perfectly appropriate and critically important question: “Lord, are You at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel” (Acts 1:6)? This question seemed fair enough. After all, when the disciples pose this query, Jesus has already risen from the dead and has been periodically appearing to His in a dazzling demonstration of His dominion over death. And now that Jesus has conquered death, the only thing left for Him to do is to usher in the utopia of God’s kingdom. But Jesus gives His disciples a less than satisfactory answer to their question about God’s kingdom: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by His own authority” (Acts 1:7). Jesus says to His disciples, “God’s kingdom is coming, and My Father knows when it’s coming. But He’s not going to tell you. It’s not for you to know.”
The refusal of God to provide satisfactory answers to all the questions Christians ask has been a conundrum that has frustrated the faithful for millennia. Questions that range from the mildly curious – “When did the dinosaurs go extinct according to the Bible?” – to the direly critical – “Why does God allow evil to continue to rage in world?” – are left unanswered, at least in toto – by what God reveals in holy Writ. Yes, there are partial answers these questions and to others like them, but there are not complete answers. And this leaves many discouraged and despondent.
Like many other countless Christians throughout the ages, Martin Luther too struggled with why God did not answer everything everyone might want to know. After much reflection, Luther came to this conclusion: “Whatever God does not tell you, or does not want to tell you, you should not desire to know. And you should honor Him enough to believe that He sees that it is not necessary, useful, or good for you to know.”[1] Luther was willing to trust that God knew – and knew how to manage – what Luther himself did not.
Perhaps the reason God does not tell us everything we might like to know is this: a lack of knowledge compels trust. In other words, when we do not know something that God knows, we are compelled to trust that God knows what He’s doing even if we happen to be left in the dark. Our lack of a comprehensive answer to every question we might have can actually be used by God to increase our faith! And growing in faith is far more important than growing in mere knowledge.
And so, what would you like to know about God? God may not give you every answer to every question, but you already have His answers to the questions that matter most. Does God love you? Yes! Can you be redeemed by the blood of Christ? Yes. Can you trust that God knows what He’s doing and has your best interest at heart? Yes.
How much more do you really need to know?
[1] Martin Luther, What Luther Says, Ewald M. Plass, comp. (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1959), §209.
The Price of Shame
I’m not sure the framers of the sexual revolution of the 1960’s ever envisioned this. What they dreamed of was the freedom to sexually express themselves without having to answer to what they thought were the stifling restraints of a traditional – and, in their view, outdated – sexual ethic. What they wound up sowing, however, were the seamy seeds of sexual objectification and oppression among subsequent generations.
Cole Moreton, in his article for The Telegraph titled “Children and the Culture of Pornography,”[1] offers a disturbing peek inside a generation who has managed to shake itself free of the moral manacles which once guided the intimate encounters of yesteryear. I must warn you: the frank tone of his article is not for the faint of heart. He opens with the story of a thirteen-year-old girl named Chevonea. A boy had pressured her into performing a sex act on him, which he recorded with his cell phone’s camera and subsequently showed to all his buddies. Chevonea threatened to a jump from a window if he did not delete the recording. But before she could have second thoughts about her desperate threat, she slipped and fell sixty feet to her death. Chevonea’s story is nauseating. But her tale is, devastatingly, one among many spawned by a culture gone sexually mad.
The majority of Moreton’s article discusses the ease of access to pornography and how it distorts our children’s view of themselves and others. Indeed, many of our young people have gone from consuming these illicit materials to creating them with nothing more than the video recorders on their phones, as in Chevonea’s case. And many of the children who home grow these pornographic videos aren’t even teenagers yet.
So what are the consequences of growing up in such a so-called “sexually liberated” culture? Moreton explains the effects are especially severe on girls: “Sexual pressure can cause girls to contemplate suicide, self-harm, develop eating disorders, or try to lose themselves in drugs or alcohol.” For a movement that began as one of liberation, this hardly sounds like freedom to me.
The Scriptures remind us that sexual freedom can only be truly found within the context of sexual commitment. God’s created order for intimacy rings as true today as it ever has: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). God sets a clear pattern: sexual intimacy which results in the joining of two fleshes into one is to take place only after a man is willing to “hold fast to” (i.e., commit to, or marry) his wife. Such commitment, in turn, results in true freedom: “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” (Genesis 2:25).
As I read those final words from Genesis 2, I can’t help but think of Chevonea and the overwhelming shame she must have felt after a pushy boy devastated her dignity and betrayed whatever little trust she may have had in him by flaunting a sickly conceived video. This young man may have used his sexually liberated sensibilities to pressure a young girl to engage in acts completely outside the bounds of common decency, but such sexual freedom turned out to be nothing more than a Trojan horse in which were hidden the stifling shackles of shame.
Ultimately, when it comes to our sexual behavior, we must answer a fundamental question: To what do we want to be beholden? Because we will be beholden to something. We will either be beholden to the slavery of shame that masquerades as sexual liberation or we will be beholden to the constraints of divine law which free us to live without shame because we are within the comforting assurances of God’s will.
I know which one sounds better to me. Which one sounds better to you?
[1] Cole Moreton, “Children and the culture of pornography: ‘Boys will ask you every day until you say yes,’” The Telegraph (1.27.2013).
Sharing the Gospel…Even When It’s Hard
How far would you go to share the gospel? Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9 constitute a rallying cry to “pull out all the stops,” as it were, to get the gospel to those who need to hear it:
Though I am free and belong to no man, I make 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 men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. (1 Corinthians 9:19-23)
Paul’s call to “become all things to all men…for the sake of the gospel” has been a topic of many a conversation about what is involved in showing and sharing God’s love to a world that is hostile to the exclusive claims of Christ. Though many things could be said about proclaiming the gospel in a world like this, there is one thing in particular that I would focus on in this post: Proclaiming the gospel to a world adverse to its message often involves pain.
Proclaiming the gospel involves much more than just being familiar enough with the culture around you to speak the gospel in a way that is intelligible to that culture, it involves enduring persecution from that culture when it takes umbrage with the gospel’s message. This was certainly the case with Paul. Paul writes, “To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews” (verse 20). To become like a Jew was no easy task for Paul, especially since his Jewish comrades considered his message of a crucified Messiah blasphemous. And the punishment for speaking blasphemy was nothing less than a beating. This is why Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 11:24: “Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one.” Interestingly, a compendium of Jewish rabbinical teaching called the Mishnah considers lashes to be only a secondary punishment for blasphemy. The primary punishment was that of being cut off from the Jewish people. The rabbis wrote, “All those who are liable to extirpation who have been flogged are exempt form their liability to extirpation” (Mishnah Makkot 3:15). The primary punishment for blasphemy, then, was that of being excommunicated from the Jewish community, but if a person could not stand the thought of excommunication, he could instead choose to be lashed. Paul chose the lashes over the shunning. But why? It certainly wasn’t because he took any particular pride in being a Jew by birth. Paul says of his Jewish pedigree: “I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ” (Philippians 1:8). Paul chose the lashes because he could not stand the thought of being excommunicated by his Jewish comrades. After all, such excommunication would spell the end of his efforts “to win the Jews” (verse 20). Paul was so desperate to share the gospel with his Jewish community, he was willing to be beaten within inches of his death to do so.
The apostle Peter writes, “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps” (1 Peter 2:21). Sometimes, becoming “all things to all men…for the sake of the gospel” means suffering for the sake of the gospel. By the Spirit’s enabling, may we be prepared to face adversity and pain to share and spread God’s message and power of salvation!
When A Little Is A Lot
It has long struck me how God can do so much with so little. A little bit of water and the name of God spoken over us in baptism – and we are brought into the family of Christ. A little bit of bread and a little bit of wine – and we receive Christ’s body and blood for the forgiveness of our sins. It doesn’t take much for God to do great things!
I was reminded of this point once again as I was teaching Daniel 10. In this curious chapter, Daniel receives a vision of “a man dressed in linen, with a belt of the finest gold around His waist. His body was like chrysolite, His face like lightning, His eyes like flaming torches, His arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and His voice like the sound of a multitude” (Daniel 10:5-6). The characteristics of this man are strikingly similar to those used to describe Jesus in Revelation:
I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone “like a son of man,” dressed in a robe reaching down to His feet and with a golden sash around His chest. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and His voice was like the sound of rushing waters. (Revelation 1:12-15)
Daniel, it seems, is having an encounter with the pre-incarnate Christ.
What is Christ doing before His incarnation? What He does after His incarnation: fighting the forces of evil. He says, “I will return to fight against the prince of Persia” (Daniel 10:20). Many scholars take this reference to “the prince of Persia” as a reference to a fallen angel and not to the human leader of Persia at this time, Cyrus. After this prince of Persia, Jesus says, will come the king of Greece. And then, Jesus ends the chapter by saying, “No one supports me against them except Michael, your prince” (Daniel 10:21).
It is verse 21 that especially struck me. It is just the Son of God and His archangel Michael against the many and varied forces of darkness and evil. Daniel 11 goes into detail concerning those many and varied dark forces. It’s two forces for good marshaled against a countless number of forces for evil. It’s a little against a lot. And yet, good carries the day:
At that time your people – everyone whose name is found written in the book – will be delivered. Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt. (Daniel 12:1-2)
Evil is consigned to everlasting contempt. The redeemed of the Lord enjoy everlasting life. The seemingly little forces for good defeat the massive forces of evil.
Throughout the Bible, evil constantly seeks to gain power using sheer numbers. The Psalmist writes about how “the kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers gather together against the LORD and against his Anointed One” (Psalm 2:2). But no matter how many forces evil may be able to marshal, evil is no match for the goodness of God. The quantity of evil foes is no match for the perfect quality of God’s goodness. As Luther writes in “A Mighty Fortress” of God’s power against the devil and minions: “One little word can fell him.” One little word of God can destroy vast army of evil. And that little word has already by spoken from the cross: “It is finished” (John 19:30). From the cross, Jesus sealed Satan’s fate with just a little word. For “It is finished” means “Satan is finished.” This little word defeated great evil and saved us.
So never overlook the little things of God. A little can do a lot. After all, what the world thought was nothing more than an insignificant execution on a cross wound up offering salvation to all humanity. From a little cross flows big hope.
Sacrificing the Wrong Lives
It was an article that took my breath away. Yes, I’ve read many an article arguing for “a woman’s right to choose.” Yes, I’ve heard the cries from Planned Parenthood, insisting that a woman’s “reproductive rights” be maintained. But this article did not invoke any of the more traditional language wielded by abortion proponents, except to criticize it. Writing for Slate Magazine, Mary Elizabeth Williams opens her article analyzing the state of the abortion debate thusly:
While opponents of abortion eagerly describe themselves as “pro-life,” the rest of us have had to scramble around with not nearly as big-ticket words like “choice” and “reproductive freedom.” The “life” conversation is often too thorny to even broach. Yet I know that throughout my own pregnancies, I never wavered for a moment in the belief that I was carrying a human life inside of me. I believe that’s what a fetus is: a human life. And that doesn’t make me one iota less solidly pro-choice.[1]
Mary Elizabeth Williams is bold enough to write what so many people have suspected for so long: there is no way around the fact that a fetus is a life. Abortion, then, by logical default, ends a life. Williams, in contradistinction to many other abortion advocates, is willing to admit this. But this does not temper her view on whether or not abortion should be legal and widely available:
Here’s the complicated reality in which we live: All life is not equal. That’s a difficult thing for liberals like me to talk about, lest we wind up looking like death-panel-loving, kill-your-grandma-and-your-precious-baby storm troopers. Yet a fetus can be a human life without having the same rights as the woman in whose body it resides. She’s the boss. Her life and what is right for her circumstances and her health should automatically trump the rights of the non-autonomous entity inside of her. Always.
Williams is willing to cede the argument on whether or not a fetus is a life. She admits it is. But that does not matter. It may be a life, but it is a life that can be extinguished at the will and whim of the woman who carries the fetus.
Such a crassly genocidal view of abortion is new, even for its advocates. Margaret Sanger, the very founder of Planned Parenthood, would have winced at this kind of notion:
We explained what contraception was; that abortion was the wrong way no matter how early it was performed it was taking life; that contraception was the better way, the safer way – it took a little time, a little trouble, but was well worth while in the long run, because life had not yet begun.[2]
Margaret Sanger, though she certainly paved the way for abortion’s modern-day legality, availability, and promotion, promoted contraception over abortion, at least publicly, because abortion ended life. Until now, pro-choice advocates have been largely unwilling to engage the question “Is the fetus a life or not?” and instead focus on a woman’s “right to choose” because many abortion advocates would be loath to talk about ending a life. No longer. Williams is perfectly willing to speak of a fetus as a life. And she’s perfectly willing to talk about ending it. As she concludes in her article, “I would put the life of a mother over the life of a fetus every single time – even if I still need to acknowledge my conviction that the fetus is indeed a life. A life worth sacrificing.”
In the face of words like Williams’, words from the prophet Jeremiah come to mind:
This is what the LORD says: “A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because her children are no more.” (Jeremiah 31:35)
May we weep with Rachel at the children who are no more. They were not lives worth sacrificing. The life worth sacrificing has already been sacrificed.
[1] Mary Elizabeth Williams, “So What if Abortion Ends a Life?” Slate Magazine (1.23.13). NB: The link posted in the title Williams’ article takes you to Google’s cached version. The most inflammatory of Williams’ statements have since been removed. The current version of the article can be found here.
[2] Margaret Sanger, Margaret Sanger, An Autobiography (New York: W. W. Norton, 1938), 217.
ABC Extra – Some Much Needed Rest
This past weekend in worship and ABC, we talked about the importance of working smarter rather than harder. The poster child for the opposite – working harder rather than smarter – was Moses, who, after he explained to his father-in-law Jethro how he was serving as the sole arbiter and judge for all of Israel’s disputes, was told by his father-in-law, “What you are doing is not good. You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone” (Exodus 18:17-18). Blessedly, Moses humbly swallowed his pride and, in Exodus 18:24, we read, “Moses listened to his father-in-law and did everything he said.”
Moses may have had the good sense to listen to his father-in-law and delegate some of his duties to other trustworthy Israelites, but, even with some much needed help, Moses’ responsibilities did not suddenly became light and easy. Jethro admits as much when, after encouraging Moses to share his workload with others, he says, “If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain” (Exodus 18:23). Moses’ responsibilities, though fewer, will continue to be straining and stressful. There will still be plenty for Moses to do.
Perhaps you can relate to Moses. After all, you, like Moses, have probably been told of the importance of working smarter and not harder. Yet, no matter how many time management principles you implement and no matter how many tasks you delegate, you, like Moses, may still find yourself awash in a sea of obligations and unexpected troubles that can become overwhelming at times. What do you do when the principles of working smarter rather than harder fail you? Jesus shows the way.
Mark 6 proves to be one of the most tragic in the Gospel. Jesus’ dear friend and cousin, John the Baptist, is beheaded at the behest of Herod Antipas’ stepdaughter. Jesus is understandably distraught. But Jesus’ jam-packed calendar of ministry marches on. In the episode immediately succeeding John the Baptist’s untimely death, Mark notes, “So many people were coming and going that Jesus and His disciples did not even have a chance to eat” (Mark 6:31). Jesus may be mourning, but the crowds still want to see Him.
It is with the memory of Jesus’ cousin weighing in on Him and the throngs of curiosity seekers pressing down around Him that Jesus issues an invitation to His disciples, “Come with Me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest” (Mark 6:31).
Jesus’ invitation is fascinating. Though Jesus Himself is certainly tired and emotionally spent, Jesus’ primary concern is not with Himself, but with His disciples. The verbs of His invitation – “come” and “get some rest” – are second person plural verbs. That is, Jesus is saying to His followers, “You come with Me by yourselves to a quiet place and you get some rest.” Jesus, knowing that His disciples are exhausted even as He is exhausted, nevertheless has compassion on His disciples and invites them to get some rest by spending time with Him.
Jesus, it seems, is a man of boundless compassion. He has compassion on His disciples when He invites them to rest with Him. When Jesus’ plans for a peaceful getaway are foiled because large crowds follow Him to His destination, Mark notes, “He had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So He began teaching them many things” (Mark 6:34). Jesus has compassion on the crowds when He cancels His vacation plans to preach them a sermon. Following His sermon, when He finds out the crowds He has been teaching are hungry, He has compassion on the multitudes by holding history’s first potluck. When everyone else forgets to bring a side dish, Jesus takes the meager offering of a little boy – five loaves and two fish – and multiplies it to feed five thousand.
As He does on the disciples when they are tired and as He does on the crowds when they are spiritually lost and physically hungry, Jesus has compassion on you too. When your life is straining and stressful, Jesus understands. After all, He has gone through straining and stressful times too – losing loved ones and being exhausted by the rigors of day-to-day ministry. But Jesus doesn’t just empathize, He can also help. For the same invitation He offers to His disciples, He extends to you: “Come with Me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest” (Mark 6:31). Or, as He puts it another time: “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
No time management principle – no matter how good it may be – can remove all stress and strain from life. For life is full of the unexpected. But no stress or strain – no matter how heavy – can destroy the peace and rest that Jesus gives. For the peace and rest that Jesus gives is not based on life’s circumstances, but on His promise. And His promise is stronger than life’s stresses.
So go away with Jesus and get some rest. You need it.
Worst Funeral Ever
It started with MTV’s “The Real World.” And ever since, television has never been the same. So-called “reality TV” has become a staple of both cable and network prime time lineups. It used to be “Big Brother,” “Survivor,” “The Bachelor,” and “Fear Factor.” Then came reality talent competitions like “American Idol” and “Dancing with the Stars.” These days, shows like “The Biggest Loser” and “The Voice” top the ratings. And now, new to the reality TV field is the surprise hit … “Best Funeral Ever”?
I wish I was making this up, but I’m not. TLC’s newest reality show features over-the-top funerals directed by the over-the-top Golden Gate funeral home in Dallas. The funeral home’s motto describes its philosophy: “You may be in a casket, but it can still be fantastic.” So far, the show has featured a Christmas-themed funeral complete with a mourner dressed as a snowman as well as a funeral for the singer of the Chili’s Baby Back Ribs jingle, Willie McCoy, which boasted a barbeque sauce fountain, ribs for the guests, live pigs, and a coffin shaped like a smoker.
The garishness of these funerals may provide a ratings boost for “Best Funeral Ever,” but its irreverence also invokes deep discomfort. Clinton Yates of the Washington Post lamented, “TLC’s exploitation of how families mourn their dead is shameful in an era in which we can barely focus on keeping each other alive.”[1] Turning mourning into a spectacle just doesn’t seem right.
Of course, there is a reason turning mourning into a spectacle doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem right because it isn’t right. Death and the mourning that it brings is an indicator of something gone terribly wrong and tragically awry. This is why death is referred to in the Bible as an “enemy to be destroyed” (1 Corinthians 15:26). Death is no joking matter.
The ancients were well aware of the gravity of death. After all, it was all around them. In first century Rome, the average life expectancy was a mere twenty years. And the Romans hated this. This is why when a person died, he was taken outside the city to be buried. This is why a Roman law mandated, “No body be buried or cremated inside the city.” People did not want to be near death. They did not want to confront the mortality that surrounded them.
But then, something changed. Rather than burying the dead far away from the living, cemeteries began to become a part of the local landscape. As Christians began to build houses of worship, many cemeteries were plotted directly on church grounds. To worship the living God, you would have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. In our day, we might find this unsettling. But for many early Christians, such a move was intentional. For these Christians believed that death was not only an enemy to be destroyed, but an enemy that would be destroyed. These Christians believed the somber scene of the cemetery was only temporary. Indeed, even the word “cemetery” is from the Greek word for “dormitory” – a place where one dwells only for a time. These cemeteries, then, were not tragically permanent dwellings, but only provisional dormitories. One day, the people buried in them would move out and move on to be with the Lord at the resurrection of the dead. There was no need to be scared of them.[2]
The tragedy of a show like “Best Funeral Ever” is that it replaces resurrection anticipation with TV tawdriness. Snowmen, barbeque fountains, live pigs, and smoker shaped caskets offer little in the way of true and lasting hope.
As Christians, we know that what a funeral needs is not cheap antics, but an empty tomb. It is there that we find cause for real celebration, for it is there that we find God’s promise of life.
[1] Clinton Yates, “‘Best Funeral Ever’: Most frightening reality TV show to date?” Washington Post (1.7.2013).
[2] For a good discussion of how the Christian hope of the resurrection changed ancient views on death, see John Ortberg, Who Is This Man? The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2012), 191.
Moving In Together…Or Whatever You Call It
“Now that we’ve come to some consensus on same-sex marriage, let’s move on to the next puzzle: what to call two people who act as if they are married but are not.” So begins Elizabeth Weil in her New York Times article, “Unmarried Spouses Have a Way With Words.”[1] Though I suppose I could quibble with whether or not judicial fiat or the vote of some states to legalize same-sex marriage really constitutes a “consensus” on this issue, that is beyond the aim of my thoughts here. No, the aim of my thoughts here is to address Weil’s call for a new vocabulary to address the ever-increasing number of cohabitating couples. Weil explains:
The faux spouse is a pretty ho-hum cultural specimen for such a gaping verbal lacuna. But none of the word choices are good. Everyone agrees that partner sounds awful – too anodyne, empty, cold. Lover may be worse – too sexualized, graphic, one-dimensional. Boyfriend sounds too young. Significant other sounds too ’80s. Special friend or just friend (both favored by the 65-and-over crowd) are just too ridiculous.
When it comes to people who are living together and are playing the roles of husband and wife, albeit without all the cumbrous pledges, but who are not legally or ecclesiologically husband and wife, there is a yawning verbal vacuum. Just what do you call these people?
The twentieth century French philosopher Jacques Derrida famously claimed, “There is nothing outside the text.”[2] Though this famous phrase has been unfairly disparaged and mischaracterized as a wild assertion that nothing exists outside of words in and of themselves, the context of this quote reveals Derrida’s claim to be far more modest. Derrida is countering a Rousseauian view of reality which see words as cracked and foggy lenses that inhibit and blur the experience of reality as it truly is. This is why Rousseau, in his writings, yearns to return to a time before language, for he believes that only in a proto-linguistic and, I might add, ruggedly individualistic society can people experience the fullness of reality.[3]
In contradistinction to Rousseau, Derrida takes a much more positive view of language. In his thinking, there is no such thing as an experience of reality which is somehow free from a person individual’s interpretation of it. Language, Derrida continues, provides the framework for this interpretation and can even provide a good framework to do good interpretations of the human experience. Words, therefore, have incredible formative power over our worldviews because words mediate and amalgamate our encounters and experiences with everything around us.
This leads us back to the vocabulary void that Elizabeth Weil decries. From the perspective of a Christian worldview, the dearth of terms for Weil’s mate that can make Weil feel good about her status and her relationship may perhaps reveal that, when it comes to cohabitation, there is not much to feel good about! For the vocabulary of marriage – terms like “husband,” “wife,” and “spouse” – grew up around marriage precisely because marriage between one man and one woman is a good and God-ordained institution that needed a full, rich, and positive cache of terms to describe it. Cohabitation can make no such claim. Thus, perhaps it is good for us to follow Derrida’s lead and let the vocabulary of one of society’s fundamental institutions inform the reality of our relationships. Perhaps we would do well to leave behind the verbal vacuum of cohabitation behind for the rich vocabulary of marriage. After all, words do matter. And words do shape worldviews. Why do you think Jesus came as the Word?
[1] Elizabeth Weil, “Unmarried Spouses Have a Way With Words,” New York Times (1.4.2013)
[2] Jacques Derrida, Of Grammatology (Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1997), 158.
[3] See Jean-Jacques Rousseau, “Essay on the Origin of Languages” (1781).
Is Christianity Dying?
It was quite a byline: “‘Protestant’ is no longer America’s top religious umbrella brand. It’s been rained out by the soaring number of ‘Nones’ – people who claim no faith affiliation.” When Cathy Lynn Grossman, religion editor for USA Today, penned these words for her article, “As Protestants decline, those with no religion gain,”[1] they served as yet another sobering statistical reminder concerning the decline of Christianity in America. More and more people, it seems, are simply not concerned with matters of faith.
But not so fast. At least if you believe Ed Stetzer, president of Lifeway Research, who explains the statistical shift in the “nones” like this:
“Cultural Christians” mark “Christian” on a survey rather than another world religion because they know they are not Hindu, Jewish, etc., or because their family always has. “Churchgoing Christians” identify as such because they occasionally attend worship services. On the other hand, “conversion Christians” claim to have had a faith experience in which they were transformed, resulting in a deeply held belief. The recent growth in “nones,” I believe, comes primarily from cultural and churchgoing Christians shifting to the category no longer using a religious identification.[2]
Stetzer surmises that more and more people are increasingly feeling at liberty to publicly admit what many of them already privately suspected: that Christianity is not a tenable way to view of the world and so there is no reason to be overly concerned with what this faith – or any other faith, for that matter – teaches and preaches. And because there is no longer the social stigma attached to being irreligious that there once was, these people feel comfortable designating their faith commitment as “none.”
So what does all this tell us? I would offer two thoughts on this data.
First, this data is a good reminder that, contrary to the gleeful predilections of naysayers, Christianity is not on the brink of extinction. On April 8, 1966, TIME Magazine famously carried a cover story titled, “Is God Dead?” where eminent theologians opined on the possibility of doing theology without God. Christianity, it seemed to these scholars, was on the decline while secularism was on the rise. The “nones” were on the ascendancy and would shortly squelch the relic religious commitments of the Dark Ages. But those relic religious commitments to a God from ages past stubbornly refused to die. Christianity did not fall flat. And Christianity will not fall flat. As the above statistics intimate and as Ed Stetzer explains, it’s not that Christianity in America is declining per se, it’s that people are becoming more honest about what they actually believe.
Second, this data reminds us that Christianity and culture don’t mix quite as well as some might have previously thought and others might currently wish. The desire to have a culturally Christian nation didn’t work so well in the first century as the nascent Christian Church was belabored and bludgeoned by the Roman Empire and it doesn’t work so well in the twenty-first century in a secular society that disparages and derides the Christian faith. This should not come as a surprise. Christianity and culture will always be at odds with each other, for the perfect law of God and the sinful sensibilities of men can never coalesce.
Ultimately, this tendentious relationship between Christianity and culture should clarify our mission. For all too often, the Christian mission has been reduced and relegated to little more than that of fighting culture wars in hopes of forcibly shaping society. However, such efforts have proven largely futile. Yes, there are times when Christians need to stand up for the truth in society. And no, I do not have any problem with Christians lobbying governing officials on issues of moral import – issues such as abortion or caring for the poor. These things are indeed important. But in order to win on Christian positions, we must first win over people. After all, people hold positions. Positions do not hold people. If you don’t win over a person, you won’t win on a position.
Finally, even if things seem grim in society, take heart! Persecution, ridicule, and mockery from without the Church and scandal, avarice, and pride from within the Church have not been able to destroy a faith founded by an itinerant preacher from the backwaters of Galilee. I have a feeling some statistics about Christianity’s decline aren’t going to be able to take it down either.
[1] Cathy Lynn Grossman, “As Protestants decline, those with no religion gain,” USA Today (10.9.2012).
[2] Ed Stetzer, “Column: Christianity isn’t dying,” USA Today (10.18.2012).
Why It’s Good To Be A Weak Leader
The other day, I was reflecting on how some of my most memorable moments of ministry seem to come when I am not doing the things I normally do. I spearhead the adulteducation program at Concordia, but I sincerely love getting goofy for the sake of the Gospel with the kids who attend our annual Vacation Bible School. I spend a good portion of my day in the office taking care of business on my MacBook, but I am delighted when I go on a mission trip and swing a hammer to help an underprivileged community. Just last week on Christmas Eve, though I am normally a teacher, I was honored to work with an incredibly talented group of actors, musicians, and tech folks as a director in our Christmas pageant. Stepping out of my normal role and into something different has a unique way of stretching, growing, and inspiring me.
Leadership gurus traditionally teach that a person ought to lead from his strengths while managing his weaknesses. But as I’ve been reflecting on the times where I have been privileged to lead in areas where I am not apparently talented or naturally strong, I am beginning to question this tenant of leadership orthodoxy – at least in part. For when a person is called to lead in an area where he may be weaker, it not only helps him grow in a different and new mode of leadership, it helps him grow in his preferred mode of leadership as well.
Here’s what I mean. Every leadership strength comes with a built-in deficiency. For instance, if a leader is naturally a type-A in-charge go-getter, he may also come across as insensitive or uncaring, more concerned with finishing a job by a deadline than demonstrating compassion on a person. But if this leader periodically puts himself in positions where his primary calling is to care for others, this can help him balance his type-A in-charge go-getter proclivity with intentional empathy and deep sensitivity. If another leader is naturally more of a perceptive, conciliatory, people-person, he may also come across as weak or pandering, more concerned with keeping everyone happy than getting something done right. But if this leader periodically spearheads projects that involve making tough decisions that will inevitably ruffle others, this can help him balance his perceptive, conciliatory personality with a tough-as-nails determination. Leading from a place of weakness encourages a person to be cognizant of and work on those deficiencies that are inherent in his strengths.
Leading from a place of weakness, of course, is nothing new. The apostle Paul writes of his leadership in ministry, “For Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). Leading from and in weakness is what honed and helped Paul’s strength, for when Paul led from weakness, he had only Christ’s strength on which to rely. And Christ’s strength, not human fortitude, is what every leader needs. As Paul writes in the verse prior, “[Christ’s] power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Don’t be afraid, then, to lead in an area where you are weak. After all, even if you’re weak, Jesus is not. And He can use your weaknesses to show His strength and to bless your leadership.
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