5 POINTS OF CAUTION FOR MY REFORMED BROTHERS – THE NEW CALVINISTS

Someone once said, "Never judge an idea by its proponents." This is certainly valuable advice in light of the way so many people seem to form their opinions about Christianity based solely on extremist examples like hateful Westboro-types or ridiculous late-night televangelists. No matter what the camp or creed, there will always be extremists among us – those who take things beyond the intended scope of what was originally intended for good. But we must be careful not to automatically assume that the misguided fringes of any movement speak for the solid, more balanced majority. 

 However, there also comes a time when we must take stock of the situation, especially if certain people begin pressing their influence toward an unhealthy imbalance. The majority must always be aware of whether or not they are presently in the majority – indeed, if it is still a good thing to identify with the majority at all.

Before I get started, let me say that most of the things I address in this blog can be applied to almost every sect of Christianity in some way. But it just so happens that today I'd like to talk specifically to my friends within the circles of reformed theology – a tradition with a long history of rigorous Bible scholarship and sincere dedication to Christ. Over the past year or so, I've had the pleasure of much spirited dialogue with friends and acquaintances who approach the Christian faith from a newly-revived, distinctly Reformed/Calvinistic perspective. The movement I have in mind was recently dubbed by Time Magazine as "The New Calvinism." But I'm not a big fan of labels because people are often much too complex for labels to be useful. Reluctantly, I will be using a few labels in this blog but only as a naming convention to loosely identify who I'm talking to, or about. For this reason, it's important that I clarify the terms a little further.

John Piper says that, to be a part of this new movement within the reformed community is actually synonymous with affirming the tenets of Calvinism. But lest you confuse my intended audience, just because you might identify with certain aspects of Calvinism, it doesn't necessarily mean that you are a New or "Neo-Calvinist". In fact, as you read this, you might find that you enjoy and affirm the teaching of the men I’ll mention, but wouldn't consider yourself to be a part of some extreme movement, or any movement at all for that matter. If you're not sure you've even met a member of this movement, you might recognize them as the growing group of evangelical Christians promoting Reformed/Calvinistic theology in a much stronger, more fervent, more prescriptive, more intentional way than has been done in recent years – perhaps even in centuries.

Through this new appreciation of reformed doctrine, teachers like John Piper and Wayne Grudem have spearheaded a great modern reformation to correct many of the ills that have infected the church. Though the classic works of Calvin, Luther and Edwards are certainly worthy of study on their own merits, this recent surge of Neo-Calvinism was born primarily out of a reaction against the rampant relativism of our secular culture and the emergent church's growing de-emphasis on the importance of orthodox Christian doctrine over the past decade.

Undoubtedly, more corrective measures are in order to bring the church full-circle (and in some cases, even stern rebuke), but my worry is that, once again, many well-meaning believers have jumped on the vicious pendulum of reactionary tactics instead of forming a measured, thoughtful response that adequately addresses the real issues. What began as a initiative to rehabilitate the rubbery backbone of the church has snowballed into a divisive mob mentality as the vision from its inspiring leaders has trickled down to some who sit in the pew.

My intent today is not to debate the theological viability of reformed doctrine or the strengths and weaknesses of Calvinism. My concern is, rather, the extent to which some Neo-Calvinists have started applying their methodology in extreme, unsophisticated, militant ways – all under the banner of reformed theology. My only goal today is to humbly offer five points – five cautionary suggestions to my reformed friends, to chew on and prayerfully consider. These thoughts should be taken in a loose, general sense, not pushed to extremes or to the absolute exclusion of other important virtues. These are merely observations I've made with the hope that they will serve as reminders to help us find an appropriate balance between grace and justice; unity and diversity; truth and mystery – all distinctive hallmarks that should characterize the lives and beliefs of those who hold fast to the ancient Christian faith.

I offer these humbly as exhortations, not as accusations:


1). The fine line between having heroes and being an idolater.

A student at my seminary (who I'll leave anonymous) recently said, "I can't wait to be done with school so I can be the next Tim Keller. In fact, I only listen to Keller, Driscoll and Chandler."  Now, on the surface, I guess there's nothing really wrong here. Even Paul says that we should imitate him, but of course, as he imitates Christ (1Cor 11:1). Had the opportunity presented itself to me, I would have asked this person, "Have you ever expressed this weird man-crush to Tim Keller, Mark Driscoll or Matt Chandler?"  Because, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be comfortable with it.

If you're the type of person who's doing good to read one or two books a year, then you would do well to read anything put out by the authors above (or feel free to plug in your own favorite reformed author: Mahaney, MacArthur, Sproul, etc.) On the other hand, doesn't this somewhat narrow way of thinking seem to trivialize the extremely rich and diverse storehouse of Christian thought that has accumulated over the past two thousand years – particularly during the period before the Reformation was even a twinkle in Martin Luther's eye.

It's one thing to be a fan of a certain style or tradition, but it's another thing entirely to be a groupie – and there's nothing sadder than being a groupie. Why? Because groupies pursue the object of their idolatrous obsession to the complete exclusion of all variety. They can't relate to people with different tastes, experiences or insights because they live in their own little world – and they like it that way. Groupies build creepy little shrines with candles, autographed concert tickets and tour t-shirts. But shrines are built by other kinds of groupies out of bookshelves, filled with a narrow range of authors, and an even narrower range of perspectives on theology, philosophy and history. People like this love to post an endless supply of chummy photographs taken with their favorite reformed celebrities as they tour the country on the church conference circuit. Will you autograph my ESV?

I'm not saying that Christians outside of reformed circles don't have celebrity idols of their own, but idol worship amongst New Calvinists is particularly ironic given the iconoclasm that came out of the Reformation in the 16th century. In an effort to rid the Catholic church of idols, centuries-old sculptures were toppled, ancient frescoes were plastered over with stark white walls, and irreplaceable paintings were ripped down and burned during riots led by overzealous fanatics with an axe to grind. This was another sad case of overcorrection that should have been handled differently. Instead, the church added yet another black eye to its impressive collection: the Crusades, the Inquisition and now this, a move that would ultimately alienate artists from the church for centuries.

Even the Bible itself has entered this discussion with the new and wildly popular ESV Study Bible, recently referred to as the "Elect" Standard Version by one Neo-Calvinist leader. He was obviously joking, but it is the thread of truth contained in the joke that makes it funny. However, it's when certain followers within the movement don't realize it's a joke that it becomes cause for concern. The translation really is great, but what are we to say about the growing “club" mentality starting to develop among some ESV users who look down in pity upon those still using the lowly NIV? The student I quoted above went on to say in the same discussion that he likes "the Calvinist 'bent' to the ESV translation" better than other versions of the biblical text. Really? Should we be comfortable with the text having ANY "bent" to it? I was under the impression that Bible translators should strive for a reading that most closely reflects the meaning of the original languages? Though it is certainly marketed to and preferred in reformed circles, I'm not sure that the ESV actually has a Calvinistic bent to it at all. But regardless, the fact that people are choosing a Bible based on this perception should concern everyone – just as much as those who choose the Spirit-filled Study Bible for its "bent" toward Pentecostal/Charismatic theology.

Two years ago on Thanksgiving Day, my pastor and friend, Matt Chandler, had a massive seizure caused by a large tumor silently growing in the right frontal lobe of his brain. Surgery to remove the tumor was immediately necessary and the prognosis looked grim. The story made headlines and the outpouring of support for Matt and our church was immense. Amidst an insanely busy speaking schedule and the responsibilities at his own church in Minneapolis, John Piper offered to come speak to our nervous congregation, grieving in the wake of this tragic news. Despite the leadership's plea to the public that this particular Sunday be reserved for the regular congregation struggling with the difficult reality affecting our beloved pastor, the place was overflowing with visitors that morning who had traveled from all over Texas just to see the leading voice of Neo-Calvinism.

After delivering an inspiring message, Dr. Piper actually made himself available for prayer and counseling alongside the other ministry staff at the front of the sanctuary. But what followed this impressive gesture of humility and concern absolutely turned my stomach. The second he stepped down from the platform, scores of people made a B-line straight for John Piper. I wanted to believe that these people simply had extremely difficult questions that they felt only he could answer. But in the midst of this somber moment, as people started puling out their camera-phones to record evidence of their brush with Neo-Calvinism's frontman, I wanted to vomit.

Now, don't get me wrong, this was not John Piper's intent. He graciously indulged his obnoxious followers in a low key, dignified way so as not to make a scene that would disturb the people who were actually praying to his left and right. But you could tell he was disappointed and uncomfortable with the mad rush that ensued after his offer to help. I want to think that most of the Piper-groupies snapping pictures for their Facebook wall that day were clueless visitors – but does it matter? The fact that so many people couldn't discern that this was obviously not the time or place for such behavior was quite disheartening.

The church mirrors the negative aspects of pop-culture in so many ways already, and sadly, this is also true when it comes to our pathological fascination with those who have power, influence and fame. We should be different. All of these men, for all of the great things they have done, have shortcomings – and yes, even when it comes to their doctrine. It's what it means to be fallible, and I think they would agree that it's unhealthy to put them (or anyone else) on a pedestal like this.


2). Uncomfortable with our Comfort
 
Perhaps the one new trend within the New Calvinist movement that worries me the most is the relative ease with which some of my reformed friends seem to hop up on the Great White Throne without considering the enormous magnitude of the place they are sitting – that is, in a seat reserved only for the one, holy and righteous Judge of the universe.

Scripture certainly tells us that we can know a tree by its fruit, but I have grown increasingly uncomfortable with how comfortable people are with pronouncing judgments of "saved" or "not saved" on certain individuals – particularly other prominent pastor/teachers. I'm not referring to the universal inclusivism recently made popular by the Rob Bell debate. I'm referring to judgments being made about one's salvation based on secondary, non-essential issues that have been debated within the church for thousands of years. There are good reasons that the early church councils spoke clearly about things like the Trinity and the deity of Christ, but chose not to come down on one side or the other of the Calvinism/Arminianism debate.

Accusations of heresy, "bad theology", apostasy and heterodoxy are handed out like parking tickets simply because a particular view isn't Calvinistic. However, even in cases of bona fide heresy, shouldn't we be a little less eager to dole out eternal death sentences to people for doctrinal errors, especially given their total depravity? I'm not saying that you can deny the deity of Christ and still call yourself a legitimate Christian, but should lines be drawn so quickly and decisively based on differing views on eternal security or limited atonement? I understand having personal suspicions about these matters, but is it wise to proclaim it publicly in books and blogs? Are we qualified to make such a bold call about someone's eternity? Lines must be drawn, I understand that. My concern is that we do it so thoughtlessly as to minimize the gravity of what we're saying.

We should get nervous when people start to suggest that 5-point (or even 7-point) Calvinism is a necessary condition for orthodoxy, or even worse, salvation. Was the thief on the cross a Calvinist? Is it conceivable to think that John and Charles Wesley are burning in hell because of their Arminian theology? What about Catholic theologians like Thomas Aquinas who provided the very bedrock for much of modern day systematic theology, Christian philosophy and apologetics? Will C.S. Lewis be forced to spend eternity with Satan and Screwtape because he thought the Calvinism/Arminianism debate was a false dilemma? New Calvinists would do well to learn from the Protestant iconoclasm before their zeal turns into a witch hunt directed at people instead of just paintings.


3). Let's not equate the Gospel with Calvinism

During a theological debate a few years ago, a friend of mine once proclaimed, "Calvinism IS the gospel!" Whoa... really? I completely understand being enamored with a particular theology or philosophy, especially one as systematic and well-thought out as Calvinism, but do we really want to equate the gospel itself with something that is as hotly debated as Calvinism? Does Calvinism have something say about the gospel? Well, sure it does. But so does Arminianism; so does dispensationalism; so does covenant theology. I think my friend has since softened his original position on this, but this extreme sentiment is still out there, though primarily among the most zealous and misguided diehards on the fringe of Neo-Calvinism – which is why I'm not going to spend a lot of time discussing it.

This kind of exclusive claim to the gospel should cause us just as much concern as if my friend had said, "Being Baptist IS Christianity!" I remember growing up around people who thought of themselves first as Baptists, Catholics or Methodists before thinking of themselves as Christians. I also remember thinking the way they prioritized these distinctions was quite odd. To equate a manmade denomination with the Christian faith itself, well, that would be a bit presumptuous to say the least – perhaps, even blasphemous. I think the same can be said about a particular manmade theology.

Most New Calvinists would never take so strong a position, formally. However, practically speaking, I think things have gotten a little out of balance. What is needed is a reminder that, when Jesus said, "the harvest is plenty but the workers are few," (Matt.9:37) He didn't mean that the Kingdom of God has a shortage of people defending and promoting Calvinism. Deep systematic theological training is an absolute necessity in the life of every believer, but let us not confuse this with the gospel. Calvinism may be good, but it's not THE good news.

I would also like to add here that, yes, many things truly are black and white. But there seems to be a tendency among some Neo-Calvinists toward reductionistic thinking in which everything is oversimplified – certainly not theologically – but evangelistically, apologetically, conversationally. "The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" (Heb.4:12) For this very reason we must handle the gospel skillfully, lest we end up cutting off our own limbs with a weapon designed to defeat the enemy.

Calvin and Luther disagreed when it came to certain non-essential theological issues. Mark Driscoll, Matt Chandler and John MacArthur don't agree on everything either. And guess what? Modern Neo-Calvinists don't agree with everything Calvin and Luther believed. It would do us well to remember this diversity of beliefs held amongst our heroes of the faith.


4). It's hard to be a good surgeon when you're wearing boxing gloves.

Without looking up from his chart, a doctor delivers his diagnosis to an unsuspecting patient who simply went in for a regular checkup, "Guess what? You've got a big fat brain tumor and you're going to die a slow painful death." The patient is shocked and can't comprehend the full weight of what the doctor just said, let alone the technical medical lingo he rattles off later as he tries to explain the reason why she's dying. Should the doctor candy-coat the truth? Should he lie and tell her that everything's going to be okay? Absolutely not! That would be unethical and downright cruel. But should he at least soften the blow with some concern in his voice? Should he show some compassion in the way that he delivers the bad news? Should he take into consideration the age, background and emotional state of his patient? I think the obvious answer is, yes! Can he also be firm? I think the best doctors have a combination of friendly bedside manner, sophisticated technical knowledge and a sober directness in their diagnoses – don't you?

Paul's presentation of the gospel was sophisticated, strategic and highly targeted toward specific audiences for the expressed purpose of making his presentation more persuasive (1Cor 9:19-23). This is not to be confused with sophistry or empty rhetoric used to emotionally hype up a crowd. No, Paul says he actually does it "for the sake of the gospel." The same goes for when he refuted heresies or addressed discipline issues within the church. He was firm, precise and unwavering, but he wasn't belligerent or combative. Paul said, "Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ… when each part is working properly, [it] makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph.4:15-16)

Most Neo-Calvinsits I've met know the gospel very well, but often it's the ham-fisted way they present the gospel that is lacking. Most of the prominent leaders within this movement are extremely gifted communicators who don't really struggle with this problem, but there are some who seem to think that, as long as you recite the cold hard facts, the gospel has been proclaimed well. But there is something to be said about the way we say things. Even though we can be confident that we have the truth, this does not give us a license to be smug or arrogant in our presentation of the truth. It is more often the stench of our evangelical swagger that turns people off, than the truth itself.

Sometimes I'm tempted to think that Calvinism itself makes people act this way, in that they genuinely believe the persuasiveness and skill with which the gospel is presented doesn't really matter since it's all up to God anyway. But then I see men like R.C. Sproul and Matt Chandler, both strong Calvinists, take such great care with how they speak the uncompromised truth in a way that's actually mindful of (even sensitive to) the worldview their audience is filtering everything through.

Is it reasonable to expect an atheist to trust Christ as Lord when all he hears is "Trust the Bible, because the Bible says so!" How can one possibly trust the Bible if he doesn't even believe that God exists? I'm not advocating slick presentations that can somehow argue someone into heaven, but I get really frustrated when I see people handle the beauty of the gospel in such a clumsy fashion.

I wanted to offer a sample of one of the most abrasive voices within the New Calvinist movement that, up until now, did nothing but curl my toes every time I heard the man speak – Todd Friel, host of Wretched Radio. However, while doing research for this blog, I came across an interview he did with Tim Challies, yet another prominent voice within the movement. Though I typically have issues with the approach that both men take much of the time, I must say that I was pleasantly surprised to hear that they may be softening their attitudes and rhetoric a bit toward believers who wouldn't consider themselves any brand of Calvinist. I can only pray that this trend in grace continues. As a way of offering an olive branch and as a testimony to the possibility of change, I would encourage you to listen to the following link (after you finish my blog, of course). It is, quite frankly, something I never thought I would post when I started my research:

http://www.challies.com/writings/podcast/ck29-a-discussion-with-todd-friel


5). Paradox of Unity
Is there anything harder to achieve or maintain than unity? But is there anything more glorious this side of heaven? If you think about it, unity presupposes diversity. We don't say that Mt. Everest is "unified" because it's one huge solid piece of rock. No, it's just there – standing by itself. But we do attribute unity to songs and paintings and nations and groups of people. Why? Because when different pieces come together in a harmonious way, unity is created. Identical sounds result in monotone speeches. The use of one color results in indiscernible abstract art. People with identical mindsets result in cults and groupthink.

Like I said above, there are obviously times when the truth must be defended and lies exposed. There are times when wolves must be identified and the wayward rebuked. But this must be held in tension with Scripture's clear priority on unity within the body of Christ. One of the last prayers that Jesus prayed was, "I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me" (John 17:20,21). Paul talks extensively to the dysfunctional Corinthian church about how badly diversity is needed in order to have unity. Paradoxical? Or two sides of the same coin?

Rob Bell: "Love Wins" Contoversy

What Rob Bell says (or doesn't say) in his promo video is not the issue, because he doesn't "say" much of anything. He simply asks a bunch of questions – yes, provocative questions, but just questions nonetheless. If Mark Driscoll, John Piper or some other well-known conservative preacher/teacher would have used the exact same script to introduce a new series on Heaven and Hell, no one be would be up in arms over it – but this is probably because their stance on the issue is no secret, unlike Bell's often nebulous position.

To some degree, Rob Bell has brought this amplified amount of scrutiny on himself since he has such an hefty appetite for stirring the pot. He may be a lot of things, but he's not dumb – he knew exactly what he was doing with this promotion. When you try to create a buzz about a new book, video or sermon series this is what happens, and I suspect this is precisely what he and his publisher had in mind.

Though Bell may have asked for this to some extent, his critics have certainly jumped the gun by labeling him a universalist. Because of Bell's flirtations with the biblically scandalous in the past, it wouldn't surprise me at all if his book does indeed confirm the dreaded speculation, but it's still too early to say – both unwise and unfair to judge his position so prematurely.

Jesus himself asked lots of questions: "Who touched me? Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink? Who do you say that I am?" He knew the answer before he asked and only did so to prove a point, to teach a lesson and yes, to stir the pot. When Jesus asks you a question, be afraid – be VERY afraid – because when he aims his high-powered perception in your direction, it's likely your heart is about to be filleted and exposed for what it truly is. Sometimes the point is made by simply verbalizing the question – "Where are you, Adam?" Boom, roasted.

There were also times that Jesus was on the other end of the question and refused to give an answer. But whether he was being interrogated by Herod or when he wouldn't answer questions directly about his deity during his early ministry, Jesus always had a good reason for his silence and it wasn't simply for the sake of being provocative.

It's great when people ask questions, especially big questions. And you obviously can't expect the questioner to always provide the answer too, especially if he or she is genuinely seeking counsel.
Many people don't have access to knowledgeable pastors or the skills needed to properly read and interpret Scripture – so how are they to tread these waters? What about all those who wouldn't consider themselves believers at all? They have a personal stake in Bell's purported universalism because the verdict affects them in THE most severe ways. Givn this, how are they supposed to seek out answers in an unbiased manner? And it's not as simple as asking the Holy Spirit to give you the answers either. The Spirit can certainly illuminate his word so that it convicts or encourages us in ways that we previously missed, but just consider how many denominations, cults and schisms have been started over the claim that the Spirit "led" them to interpret a particular passage a certain way. If God has not seen fit to settle hot-button issues like predestination, "once-saved-always-saved" or the modern validity of miraculous gifts, I think it's fair to say that we cannot expect the Holy Spirit to write the answer to this question on the wall either.

Cortney and I were talking the other day and she brought up a great point – that the most frustrating thing will be if Bell doesn't settle the issue. That is the crux of this whole dispute: Will Rob Bell actually attempt to answer the questions he has raised? Or will he leave everyone hanging? His line of questions have drawn a clear line in the sand, and if his intention has been to leave everyone wondering what his answer is at the end, he will have been less than honest in the promotion of his new book and irresponsible with the gifts that God has entrusted to him.

As a teacher, author, pastor and recognized expert, Rob Bell is clearly operating in a role of authority, as someone who is supposed to have answers and speak with wisdom. This is why the Bible says, "Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness" (James 3:1). People are looking to HIM for clarity on this issue and rightly so.

In and of itself, I don't see anything wrong with this so-called heretical video, IF... (and that's a big "if") IF he tries to faithfully answer the questions he has raised. Now, certainly Bell cannot really speak to questions like "Is Gandhi in Hell?" and he is absolutely right to call this kind of presumptuous judgmentalism into question. No one should feel THAT comfortable sitting on the Great White Throne.

I think the thing that has really gotten so many people in a frenzy over this is that they think Rob Bell is implying that no one knows the answers to ANY of the questions he mentions. For example, no one would get upset over a video that asked, "Are the streets of Heaven 14K or 24K gold? Will the Great Tribulation happen before or after the rapture? Did Adam have a bellybutton?" These kinds of questions don't make national headlines because they are widely debated, if not completely inconsequential. There are no solid answers to these questions this side of heaven.

However, when you question things that ARE clearly answered in Scripture, the game changes completely. Bell asks, "How do you become one of the few? Is it what you believe? Is it who you know? What is God like?" At the root of all the blogging and charges of heresy is that Bell's critics are worried that he is going to avoid the hard questions by chalking them up to mere opinion or that he might even try to rewrite doctrines that have stood for thousands of years all because this topic is uncomfortable to talk about. This issue, more than most, tends to separate the men from the boys and many Christians are worried that Bell is going to dance around the issue or even dismiss it as a real issue altogether. I too am concerned as to what Bell's answer will be but the best course of action is to wait and see.

I hope the rumors aren't true, for Bell's sake and for those who look up to him as an authority. But I am also worried that his staunchest critics will respond poorly no matter what his new book actually reveals about Bell's position. If it's bad news, I'm concerned that his critics will continue the usual barrage of  stone-throwing blogs and "I told you so" sermons. And if it's not as bad as they are predicting, I think his critics will still find some way to denounce Rob Bell in order to save face – too immature to eat the fish and spit out the bones, let alone, give him props for entering the public octagon on such a brutally unpopular issue. But again, this too is speculation. If he HAS adopted a universalist position, there will no doubt be a great deal of carnage left in his wake and I fear that Bell's critics won't be effective at reaching those who don't know what to think about his new book. I even worry that some Christians actually WANT him to come out in favor of universalism just so their suspicions will be confirmed.

Bell has a responsibility to answer the questions he raises (at least the ones that actually have clear-cut answers) AND to call out those who speak presumptuously about who God will sentence to Hell and who He lets into heaven. Scripture is clear that there will be a LOT of surprises handed out on both sides of the aisle on Judgment Day. People who thought they had a one-way ticket to heaven will say, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?" (Matt 7:22) to which Christ replies, "Depart from me, I never knew you." While others who got in by the skin of their teeth or suffered in silence and obscurity will be rewarded in ways that self-righteous veterans of the faith might be surprised, “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous? So the last will be first, and the first will be last" (Matt 20:1-16).

God is love. God is justice. Some sinners will suffer in Hell for their crimes against God and humanity, those who are made in His image. Monsters who have exterminated vast races of people; those who have raped and plundered the innocence of children for twisted pleasures; those who have, and continue to, buy, sell and use people as if they are nameless commodities... we all intuitively recognize that these and a host of other atrocities, MUST not go unpunished. How could a loving God be so unjust and so unloving to the victims of such offenses as to turn a blind eye? We recognize this as the role of a holy Judge who has the power, wisdom and perspective to determine what is good and right in the end.

We who are blessed to one day enter the eternal rest of God's presence must be vigilant to remember that it is not our good deeds or our lesser degree of sin that has earned us a spot in heaven. We share in the guilt of the condemned, we simply have been rescued by Christ, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Him. (John 14:6) This means it is His decision, and His alone. Ultimately, the answer to the question, "Is Gandhi in Hell" finds its source in the same place as "Will I be in Hell?" It depends on Christ, our righteous, loving and holy Judge. I am comfortable leaving it up to His judgement when it comes to the salvation or condemnation of others. And I am helplessly dependent on Him when it comes to my own salvation – may I never be comfortable in such a way as to take it for granted.

This blog has a pretty short shelf-life given that Bell's book comes out in a couple of weeks, but I think there are some important lessons in here that would do us good to learn even after he drops his bombshell (or dud) on March 15th. I pray that Rob Bell's critics won't forget to look in the mirror just as much as I pray that those who are seeking the truth will accept it no matter what they find. "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free" (John 8:32).

Pharisees, Mass Murderers & Red Herrings

 

At 11:10 a.m. on Tuesday, April 20, 1999, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold (pictured above), went on a shooting rampage at Columbine High School in Colorado, killing 12 students and a teacher, as well as wounding 23 others, before committing suicide. Reading the detailed account of what happened that day is like reliving a horrifying play-by-play nightmare. It's even more heart-wrenching when you remind yourself that these were real kids who were forced to play a sadistic game of hide-and-seek at the mercy of two boys who were gunning people down in cold blood.

Because of the extensive media coverage, most of us are familiar with the haunting surveillance video images as the two troubled gunmen were caught on tape executing students and teachers at point-blank range, laughing and taunting them along the way. But what about the photographs placed lovingly in decorative frames on the mantle and nightstand of the Harris and Klebold family homes? I wonder how many baby pictures Eric and Dylan's parents have of their sons, taken during more innocent times. I would guess that they have just as many as my mom and dad have of me. I wonder what it's like for them to look at those photos now? I doubt that these parents could have ever imagined in their darkest of dreams what their sons would grow up to do.

 

While names like Charles Manson, Jeffrey Dahmer and Columbine may be more well-known, John Wayne Gacy trumps everyone as the worst serial killer in American history. He raped and murdered 33 teenage boys and young men during the late 1970s, 27 of whom he buried under the floor of his house. He became notorious as the "Killer Clown" because of the parties he threw for his friends and neighbors, entertaining children in a clown suit and makeup, under the name of "Pogo".

At his execution in 1994, the prison he was being held in was surrounded by an angry mob of thousands who came out to celebrate his imminent death by lethal injection, chanting, "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" Many made signs that said "Burn in Hell, Gacy!" Vendors were selling scores of commemorative t-shirts right next to the prison grounds that said "No tears for the clown." One of the customers, George Tsokatos, told an interviewer, "It's definitely a party, I bought this T-shirt for $10 and can probably sell it for $100 after this." Josh Emanuel, 17, showed up in a multi-colored clown wig and a shirt that said, "My parents went to Gacy's execution and all I got was this stupid T-shirt."

Being that Gacy committed these murders nearly 20 years earlier, the vast majority of the crowd had no personal connection whatsoever to the victims or their families. Many had not even been born yet at the time of the murders. They were simply there to cheer on Gacy's executioners and revel in the media spectacle surrounding the ultimate end of a man who had caused the death and ensuing pain of so many others. Some wanted a piece of Gacy, others just wanted a front row seat on the bandwagon. But everyone was taking a shot at playing the role of judge and jury even though Gacy had already received his sentence. We're all eager to deal out justice – aren't we?

Gacy's guilt was never really in question and there are few who would argue that he shouldn't have paid dearly for his evil deeds, even with his own life. But I wonder how many in the jeering crowd knew anything about the man John Wayne Gacy, Jr. beyond his list of gruesome crimes. Who was he, really? Where did he come from? What was his family like? How did the man become the monster everyone knew him as? Perhaps an even more provocative question may be, if the crowd knew the answers to these questions, would it even matter?

John Gacy's father, a hard man, wanted a son because his first 2 children were girls. When he finally got his wish, he had developed extremely high expectations for John – unrealistic and overbearing. He wanted him to become an outdoorsman and an athlete. But as a young boy, John was diagnosed with a congenital heart problem that made him sickly and physically unable to excel in sports.

Disappointed, his alcoholic father took it out on his son by berating him for being a "sissy," often in front of his mother and sisters. When Gacy was 11, he was struck on the forehead by a playground swing. The resulting head trauma formed a blood clot in his brain that went unnoticed until he was 16, when he began to suffer blackouts. When this happened, he was no longer able to work around heavy machinery in his high school shop classes. Displeased once again, his father, a longtime machinist by trade, continued to tear down his son with constant verbal abuse and humiliation for being a failure of a man.

Before Gacy committed his more heinous crimes, he served a short prison sentence for a lesser offense. During his incarceration, Gacy's father died from cirrhosis of the liver, tragically on Christmas morning, 1969. Despite years of alcohol abuse as the obvious culprit in his death, John Gacy's deep-seated issues with his father somehow caused Gacy to blame himself for his dad's death. He was convinced that his father died from the shame and grief he caused by his imprisonment. It was at this point that John Wayne Gacy's psychosis accelerated at a frightening rate, resulting in his most notorious crimes soon after he gained parole.

On his album Illinoise, the incomparable Sufjan Stevens sings an immensely haunting and powerful song named after the troubled serial killer. It's about his tragic life, his hideous atrocities and the shocking proposition that you and I (bare with me) are not so different. I have included the song below accompanied by some video footage and images to help you see both the horror and the humanity behind this story. Some of the imagery is authentic and some of it is representational. But with what little artistic license I did use, none of the video is inconsistent or meant to mislead. Rather it is designed to challenge the ease with which we pass harsh judgment on people whom we know very little about. I have also included the lyrics below in case you want to follow along.

Artist:  Sufjan Stevens
Song:  John Wayne Gacy, Jr
His father was a drinker
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God

Are you one of them?

He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth

And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid


So where am I going with this? Am I saying that John Wayne Gacy and other psychopathic murderers like him are to be pitied instead of punished? Am I trying to absolve him of his personal responsibility based on a tragic upbringing and plea of insanity? Am I trying to say that he couldn't help it? Am I trying to say that my sins and your sins are just as bad as the rape and murder of 33 people, 27 of whom he buried under the floorboards of the home he slept in for 6 years? Absolutely not!

It's not that Gacy was innocent.
It's not that his final punishment was too harsh.
It's not that the sins you and I have committed are equally as wicked.

My point is that we often use people like John Gacy, Charles Manson and the Columbine gunmen to divert attention away from our own sins and depravity. Though our list might not be as heinous, we all have a list. And amongst such vile sinners, our pretentious egos seek a dishonest comfort. After all, it's nice how short your list looks in the presence of such infamous company. The drunk enjoys temporary relief by pointing out the guilt of the thief. The liar feels vindicated when he makes known the wrongdoing of the adulterer. The greedy shifts the spotlight off himself when he demeans the drug addict.

Like the man who spends an inordinate amount of time at work so that he doesn't have to confront the issues he has in his marriage, we spend all our time dispensing "justice" as a smoke screen to take the attention off of our own guilt. "At least I'm not THAT bad," is our mantra. As you've been reading this account, perhaps even you have felt this excuse creeping in during my description of such crimes? Possibly, still even now?

Like the clutter we quickly scoop up from the living room floor before company arrives, we cram our secrets into the hall closet, already packed tightly with other junk we don't want people to know about. "Oh my, such a lovely home you have!" they say.  We blush and shrug off the compliments because we know it's just an illusion that could all come crumbling down if the wrong doorknob is turned. But some of us have played the game so long that we've begun to think the accolades are well-deserved. We'd like to forget, but we all know our sins are still there... lurking, safely tucked away – bound and gagged.

But occasionally the muffled voice of our sin can be heard whispering truth that exposes our make-believe innocence. We light candles and incense to cover up the rank odor that seeps from the rotting carcass concealed from public view. When the potpourri fails and the closet door starts to creak on the brink of breaking off the hinges, the only thing left to do is point out other homes that are in much worse disrepair than our own.

In the days when fox hunting was a popular sport, those who trained hounds would take a red herring (a fish with a particularly strong odor) and drag it along the ground to throw the dogs off the scent. There are also stories about criminals who would use this technique. They would drag a rotten fish across a trail to confuse the pursuing blood-hounds, helping them to escape.

When most people speak of a red herring today, they are referring to a logical fallacy in which an irrelevant topic is presented in order to divert attention away from the issue at hand. The basic idea is to "win" the argument by leading attention away from the core issue and on to another topic. This sort of "reasoning" looks like this:

   1. Topic A is being discussed.
   2. Topic B is introduced under the guise of being relevant to topic A 

       (even though it's not).
   3. Topic A is abandoned, moving the attention to topic B.

The Pharisees were masters at the game of red herring. Consider the way Jesus rebuked this group of religious holy men: "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices--mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law--justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former" (Matt 23:23).

Jesus was upset because these were the religious leaders of the day, the office that people looked to for answers as God's mouthpiece to the earth. And yet, they didn't exhibit any of the qualities that Jesus described as vital to genuine holy living. The Pharisees claimed to be righteous because they tithed, but Jesus was quick to show them that this only one part of the equation. His point is that if they tithe on all their possessions and yet neglect the weightier virtues of the Christian life (justice, mercy and faithfulness), they've totally missed the very essence of the Gospel!

In John 2, with bullwhip in-hand and outrage burning in his eyes, Jesus overturned tables in the temple as he drove out those who would seek to pervert such a sacred place. But he also toppled our precious works-based righteousness mentality when he gave the devastating sermon on the mount: "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment... You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (Matt 5:21-22,27-28).

Was Jesus trying to say that murder and anger are equally atrocious? Is it a viable conclusion to infer from this passage that, once you've lusted, you might as well indulge in the pleasure of adultery because you're already guilty of it anyway? Of course not! You have to remember the audience that Jesus was speaking to, "These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me" (Matt 15:8). Essentially, the Pharisees had fooled themselves into thinking that it was okay to think about anything you wanted, as long as you didn't act on those desires. Jesus is forcing them to realize that God judges a person’s thoughts as well as their actions. While the Pharisees' list of sins may not have been as blatantly shocking as that of Judas and Barabbas, apparently Jesus is not a sucker for loopholes and red herrings.

And consequently, the Pharisees were not let off the hook just because their list of sins was less obvious. They were trying to claim complete innocence by comparing their sins to more extreme examples (murder, adultery, etc.) in a pitiful attempt to get themselves off the hot seat. This is why, on yet another occasion, Jesus rebukes the same group, "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean" (Matt 23:27).  Look again at Jesus' words: Tombs... dead men's bones... everything unclean... "under the surface"... Suddenly, the Pharisees are being described with much the same language found in the police report detailing John Gacy's crime scene. Interesting.

This is the context in which we should read what is quite possibly the most selfishly misappropriated passage in the entire Bible: "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye" (Matt 7:1-5). The message here is not that Christians should never judge. The message is that we should be careful about treating judgment like a bull in a china shop because more than likely, it is our own china that is going to get crushed in the process.

Notice another commonly misused passage from Jesus' brother: "For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. For he who said, "Do not commit adultery," also said, "Do not murder." If you do not commit adultery but do commit murder, you have become a lawbreaker. Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!" (James 2:10-13). This passage is usually misused by taking them it out of its context. Notice how James ends this section by emphasizing freedom and mercy over the law and judgment.

Although Jesus said that lust and adultery are both sins, it doesn't mean that all sins are equal. It is much worse to actually murder a person than it is to simply hate them. They are different in their degree but the same in that they all cause spiritual death. But the good news is that it's also true that all sins are the same in that God forgives them all with the same grace. Max Lucado provides a stunning illustration in his book, In the Grip of Grace:

"Suppose God simplified matters and reduced the Bible to one command: 'Thou must jump so high in the air that you touch the moon.' No need to love your neighbor or pray or follow Jesus; just touch the moon by virtue of a jump, and you'll be saved...There may be a few who jump three or four feet, even fewer who jump five or six; but compared to the distance we have to go, no one gets very far. Though you may jump six inches higher than I do, it's scarcely reason to boast. Now, God hasn't called us to touch the moon, but He might as well have. He said, 'You must be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.' (Matt.5:48) None of us can meet God's standard. As a result, none of us deserves to don the robe and stand behind the bench and judge others. Why? We aren't good enough."

While the good deeds of a madman like Gacy may only get him 6 inches off the ground, our jump of 6 feet is equally unimpressive considering it's 230,000 miles to the moon and the world record high jump is only 8.04 feet. This being the case, is there any real difference between holy men, garden-variety sinners and the most vile offenders? In his book, Respectable Sins, Jerry Bridges (following the tradition of Jesus) ruffles our religious feathers once again by turning the spotlight back on sins that often fly under the radar. Pride, anxiety, unthankfulness, selfishness, envy, gluttony and the lack of self-control are often excused, joked about or explained away as normal – sometimes even rewarded.

Here are a few interesting scenarios to consider:

    • A deacon who works too much is regarded as a tireless breadwinner even though he neglects the needs of his wife and children... not to mention his God.

    • A man who verbally abuses his wife finds a group of understanding men who help him find peace and accountability. But a man who struggles with homosexuality is rejected with the stiff arm of fear, labels and judgment – cloaked in macho stupidity.

    • A woman who had an abortion is welcomed with loving arms and asked to testify about her experience. But a woman who commits adultery is branded with the scarlet letter and exiled.
 
    • Church leaders look down their noses at the one who smokes and drinks too much, while the 300 pound Sunday school teacher is allowed to instruct children about the fruit of the Spirit – including self-control.

    • One man is excommunicated for having an affair, while another in the same church secretly visits strip clubs and pornographic websites for years – his men's Bible study even encourages him with, "We're here for you, a lot of guys deal with the same thing."

    • We sit in front of a TV or computer screen for 20 hours a week and have the nerve to accuse those who worship other gods of idolatry.

    • The humble man who lives with his girlfriend is banned from the worship team, but the proud man with the golden voice is allowed to swagger and strut center stage.

I'm not saying that any of these vices should be considered as anything less than sin. I'm not saying that everyone is ready to serve in a leadership role regardless of lifestyle and beliefs. My question is, why is there such an obvious disparity in how we treat certain sins as compared to others? Some are given and endless supply of hall passes, while others are sent straight to the principal's office without question. The hallways of the church are run-amuk with permissible sin, all the while our classrooms sit empty – void of qualified students and teachers.

Why do we extend so much grace to some and so very little to others? Is it because we extend grace only to the sins that we ourselves struggle with? If so, can this really be called grace? Or is the "grace" we show more accurately described as a hypocritical reluctance to make a judgment call in situations that our similar to our own? Ultimately, we fear presiding as judge and jury over our own case?

There's an unspoken pact akin to spiritual blackmail going on behind the scenes, isn't there? We don't mind accountability, confession or forgiveness when it's something that we have struggled with. And it's not because we're full of grace but, rather, because in the back of our minds we know that if anyone ever makes a big deal out of our sin, we have the same dirt on them. Like the long nuclear weapon standoff between the U.S. and the Soviet Union during the Cold War, there is a devious brand of Mutual Assured Destruction amongst believers today. But as my parents learned during duck-and-cover drills as they huddled under school desks waiting for sirens and mushroom clouds, can anyone experience real freedom living under such fear?

As long as we focus on the sins of others, we don't have to be honest about our own. But let's be honest now, shall we? We are not so much as outraged by the sin itself, it is GRACE that offends us. It is not the wickedness of the sin that drives us mad, it is the idea that the guilty man might go free and unpunished. The mere idea makes us grit our teeth, shake our head and grumble under our breath, "That's not right." That is, unless we are the sinner in question.

The truth is that it's not right when a sinner goes free. But that's where Jesus comes in. God put the sin of the world on His Son and punished Him instead of us, even though He was perfect. We get forgiveness out of the deal while Jesus suffered in our place. Both love and justice are carried out in perfection. That is grace and it's a beautiful thing.

After his execution, John Gacy's brain was removed for study since it was evident to so many criminal psychologists that he was suffering from some kind of severe neurosis. Surprisingly, the results came back completely normal – disturbing proof that John Wayne Gacy, Jr. was even more of a monster than previously thought... chilling.

As you read the previous paragraph, did you hear it? The quiet, self-righteous whisper in your head... "I knew it! He knew exactly what he was doing!" But does it make a difference whether he was sane or not? Might I be so bold to suggest that this whisper in our heads is born out of an attempt to make our own list look a few inches shorter? To make our meaningless jump look like it's a little closer to the moon?

Would we be so quick to cheer and cry out for justice if it were our closest friend or family member sitting in the seat of the accused? If our own dark thoughts, sins and dirty little secrets were aired out in public, (you know the ones) would we welcome the same response that wells up in our own hearts toward others? Given different circumstances, what would have happened to your issues of lying, lust, greed and hate had you not had the upbringing and environment that you had? Aren't we all just one step, one choice, one mistake away from being just like those we despise? In Mere Christianity C.S. Lewis said of pride: there is no other sin so wholly offensive when we see it in others, yet so completely unrecognizable in ourselves.

In Harper Lee's famous novel, To Kill A Mockingbird, Atticus Finch tells his young daughter Scout that you never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them. This was in reference to the character Boo Radley, a reclusive neighbor who was the subject of gossip and rumors and hence, harsh judgments about what kind of man he was. Scout is consumed by the mystery and speculation about Boo at the beginning of the book, imagining him to be some kind of monster. However, he ends up saving Scout's life and the two become friends despite her original prejudice.

In closing, I'd like to, once again, invoke the words of Max Lucado as he masterfully describes the danger in assuming a seat on the judge's bench too quickly:

"Not only are we unworthy, we are unqualified. We don’t know enough about the person to judge him. We don’t know enough about his past. We condemn a man for stumbling this morning, but we didn’t see the blows he took yesterday. We judge a woman for the limp in her walk but cannot see the tack in her shoe. We mock the fear in their eyes but have no idea how many stones they have ducked or darts they have dodged. Are they too loud? Perhaps they fear being neglected again. Are they too timid? Perhaps they fear failing again. Too slow? Perhaps they fell the last time they hurried. You don't know. Only One who has followed yesterday’s steps can be their judge.
    Not only are we ignorant about yesterday, we are ignorant about tomorrow. Dare we judge a book while chapters are yet unwritten? Should we pass a verdict on a painting while the artist still holds the brush? How can you dismiss a soul until God’s work is complete? "God began doing a good work in you, and I am sure he will continue it until it is finished when Jesus Christ comes again” (Phil 1:6).
    Be careful! The Peter who denies Jesus at tonight’s fire may proclaim Him with fire at tomorrow’s Pentecost. The Samson who is blind and weak today may use his final strength to level the pillars of godlessness. A stammering shepherd in this generation may be the mighty Moses of the next. Don’t call Noah a fool, you may be asking him for a lift.”

– In the Grip of Grace


ADDENDUM: 

I've received, a few messages about this blog that made me think that I need to clarify my intentions for writing it. Teaching has shown me that when 1 or 2 people raise their hand, it probably means that there are several more who have the same questions or thoughts. So, just in cae you were wondering:

Q: WHAT WAS MY REASON FOR WRITING ON THIS TOPIC?

A: Let me start by explaining what WEREN'T my reasons for writing this blog. My intent was not to justify serial killers or bash religious legalists. And it wasn't to say that the sins you and I commit on a daily basis (big or small) are inconsequential. I had 3 main points that I was trying to make:

1). The biggest point that I was trying to stress in all this was that we are ALL guilty. "This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom 6:22,23).

2). My second point is that, in light of our OWN guilt and sin, we should be reluctant to deal so quickly and harshly with those who are n the same boat as we are. NOT that we are supposed to completely suspend all righteous judgment, but that our judgment should be tempered with grace and mercy. "Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!" (James 2:12,13)

3). The final thing I hoped to do is bring a message of grace and hope to those who have been living under the dark cloud of their own guilt and shame for too long – those who can't seem to find their way out, either because of their own fear or due to the harsh judgment and unforgiveness of others. Again, I am not trying to say that the consequences of sin should be ignored or that it should be thought to be the same as virtue. Sin is sin and, "the wages of sin is death" (Rom 6:23). But let us remember the way that Jesus handled the woman who was caught in very act of adultery by an angry mob of self-righteous accusers with the perfect balance of grace and justice:

John 8:3-11
The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4 and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5 In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?" 6 They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him. But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." 8 Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. 9 At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. 10 Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" 11 "No one, sir," she said. "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."
 
If you are living under the lonely shadow of the guilt, fear and shame of your own sin... know that Jesus paid for ALL of it on the cross – ALL of it! If the adultress doesn't have to cower in the presence of the Prince of Peace, why should you cringe in fear of the hypocritical judgment of others. Their condemnation is not to be encouraged nor are they to be hated for it. For how could those of us who are SO desperate to receive grace from our accusers not extend the same grace to those suffering from the identical disease that we are infected with?

Jesus has taken care of it all: our accusers, our guilt, our shame and our sin.

Poetry, Life & Mystery

Watching those lifelong dancers of a day
As night closed in, I felt myself alone
   In a life too much my own,
More mortal in my separateness than they –
Unless, I thought, I had been called to be
   Not fly or star
But one whose task is joyfully to see
How fair the fiats of the caller are.

(Excerpt from "Mayflies" – a poem by Richard Wilbur)

Unless your favorite poet is Dr. Seuss, most of us understand that a healthy dose of mystery is inherent to all good poetry. It’s what makes a poem special and satisfying or, in its absence, trite and predictable. Just imagine someone trying to win your heart with the line, “Yo... Sam, I am.” No, I think the poet king of the Song of Solomon, had a much better approach:

Place me like a seal over your heart,
       like a seal on your arm;
       for love is as strong as death,
       its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
       It burns like blazing fire,
       like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
       rivers cannot wash it away.

(Song of Solomon 8:6,7)

But what does it mean to put a seal over a lover’s heart? Is the poem’s message literal or symbolic? Is it about death and graves – water and fire? Or is this, really about that? Is the author pointing toward a bigger story here? Questions add to the intrigue and challenge of interpretation. The process of solving these lyrical riddles is part of what makes the reading of poetry enjoyable and worthwhile.

Most church-folk are too prim and proper to admit it in public or from the pulpit, but the poetic symbolism used in this particular book of the Bible often disguises extremely erotic subject matter capable of making even the most experienced veterans sitting in the pew blush like schoolgirls. But it is because these intimate verses are so artfully cloaked in mystery that they become so powerfully holy, and accurately descriptive of the beautiful and sacred love between a man and a woman – between God and His bride. All good stories – whether told by film, literature or around a glowing campfire, depend on the use of mystery in some capacity. Nothing is more maddening than when a clumsy-mouthed friend divulges the end of a movie that you haven’t seen yet.

Why? Because we love mystery. We love not knowing. We love the thrill of discovering the twists and turns for ourselves. We’d much rather experience the story firsthand than be told how it all turns out in the final scene. And it doesn’t matter what kind of ending it is – whether the awkward boy finally wins the love of the beautiful girl that’s way out of his league, or the virtuous hero dies an unjust death at the hands of evil men – we still want to see it for ourselves. Whether it results in tears of joy or tears of sadness, there is a beautiful satisfaction experienced in both tragic and “happily-ever-after” endings.

It’s obvious why we enjoy happy endings so much. They give us comfort. They make us laugh and hope for the same good fortune in our own lives. But what about the not-so-happy endings? Some friends (Lauren and Randy) came over my house one time to watch a movie about two boys (one Jewish, one German) who formed a friendship in the very shadow of a Nazi concentration camp. The film’s ending is absolutely heart-wrenching. As the final credits rolled, Lauren buried her face in a pillow in a futile attempt to muffle her intense weeping and tender heart. Randy and I sat there helpless as the weight of the moment pressed heavily upon us both.

But if you asked what we thought of the movie, I’m sure the consensus would be that, overall, it was good. But didn’t you cry? Weren’t you saddened? Aren’t you disgusted by the horrors of the Holocaust? Of course! That’s exactly why the movie was so good. As painful as it is to witness, it is a good thing when we recognize evil and suffering for what it is because, in doing so, we acknowledge the reality that something has gone wrong in the world – things are not the way they’re supposed to be. The good that God created has been corrupted. Stories like this provoke us to become agents of change who make things as good as they can be now, but also remind us of a better time to come in the future.

Whether we laugh or cry, most stories have one thing in common. When we get to the end, the book goes back on the shelf, the actors come out for a final bow, the house lights slowly fade up. We wipe the tears from our eyes and say, “Wow, that was good.” We can appreciate both kinds of endings because we know that, eventually, the temporary veil of storytelling is lifted to reveal the real world as it truly is.

Many people seem incapable of reconciling the sophisticated complexities of good storytelling when it comes to love, retreating instead to a polarized world of oversimplified extremes. Some live with their heads in the clouds, always searching for Prince Charming, never finding the idealized fairy tale promised by Hollywood. Others (often the self-appointed advice-givers in our lives) are only concerned with the facts – no drama, no romance, just pure compatibility – oddly enough, a term more often associated with computers than people. But a spreadsheet with rows and columns filled with desirable income, education and age doesn’t leave much room for a love worthy of epic poetry – an art, so it seems, much too inefficient in this information age.

In the movie Dead Poets Society, the main character, Mr. Keating, demands that his students rip out the entire introduction of their poetry textbook because it made the ridiculous assertion that the greatness of any poem can be determined by simply graphing quantifiable literary characteristics on a chalkboard. But is this cold, lifeless exercise any less absurd than suggesting that love can be measured according to qualities contained within a Facebook profile? I tend to agree with Mr. Keating’s assessment of such ideas that try to mechanize matters of the heart – excrement!

However, when it comes to love, there are certainly gritty non-negotiables that go much deeper than butterflies and goosebumps. 1Corinthians 13 contains such a checklist of what true love looks like: Love is patient, love is kind, it keeps no record of wrongs, always protects, always trusts, always hopes. It is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered. True love remains all of these things whether the story ends how we wanted it to, or not. It always perseveres.

But are there not just as many intangibles to love as well? Chemistry. The music that we dance to. That “thing” you can’t seem to put into words. Or as C.S. Lewis allegorizes in his Narnia series, “deep magic”. Why else would the poet in the Song of Solomon tell his lover, “Turn your eyes away from me; for they overwhelm me.” There is no biological explanation for such an enchanted moment. An encounter like this is filled with unwritten poetry swirling in the invisible air around two people who are gazing into each other’s soul – hearts that speak to each other
without words, sometimes with just a glance from across the room.

But all this talk about hearts gazing and speaking to each other begs an enormous question: What is the heart? Is it just an organ that pumps blood to your body? Or is it a vast and untold mystery? One that beats like a tribal bass drum in your chest when reunited – one that aches in the dark shadow of loneliness. Science doesn’t provide satisfying answers for such phenomena, but would anyone deny that the connection is real? It is a mystery, and a beautiful mystery at that.

Life itself is a story, an epic poem – every chapter filled to the brim with mystery, romance and conflict. But in a society suffering the symptoms of microwave-mentality, most seem merely interested in flipping to the last page instead of plowing through to the end. We’re all tempted to tear open a corner of the wrapping paper before we’re supposed to. And we whine and complain about how long we have to wait. Is there anything more excruciating? But is there anything more magical than the moment the long-awaited gift is revealed on Christmas morning? Isn’t the pain of waiting, and wanting, and longing part of what makes the whole experience so wonderful in the end?

No, not every story ends with a shiny new bicycle under the tree – some people find disappointments, a brain tumor or the death of a child. But if you believe that there is more to all this than just what our eyes can see, you also know that it’s not the end of the story. Love, so it seems, is much like faith – it is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. This, is really about that.

Though the trials are real and the tears run deep as we watch our own stories unfold across the stage of life, one day the curtain call of the ages will erupt in thunderous applause when we realize that the stuff of this world was merely a foreshadowing of what was to come – an ancient plot development that was written before the foundations of the world. The stage, the masks, the props – it will all dissolve and our eyes will finally see reality in its fullness – that we were performers in what was merely the first act in an unending drama that will unfold throughout eternity.

So regardless of how “till death do us part” ends for you: for richer or poorer, in sickness or health, thrills or disappointments... it will be then, that we are reminded that all good stories have their ending shrouded in mystery. And, this time, as the tears are wiped from our eyes, we’ll look to those on our left and right and say, “Wow, that was good.”

Good advice from my little brother.

As I was writing my blog about the apostle Paul the other day, I was reminded of something my brother Jon said several years ago that stuck with me for some reason:

"Never get in a fight with someone who's got nothing to lose."

We've all been there... Some rusted out clunker cuts you off in traffic. You give the other driver a scowl and lay on your horn a bit longer than usual and then immediately resume driving with no intention of giving the irritating encounter a second thought. That is, until you see the same maniac in your periphery waiving gang signs and a gun out the window, his blood-red face now fully engulfed in third degree road rage.

This kind of person always has way more options than you.

1). He's already got a record, so if he squeezes off a few rounds and goes to jail for it, again... so what?

2). His car is on its last leg, yours is nice and shiny... perhaps he'll choose to sideswipe you.

3). He doesn't have a job, so maybe he'll get in front of you and slam on his brakes, putting him up in the hospital for a few weeks and guaranteeing a nice fat settlement check from your insurance company thanks to Jim Adler, the tough smart lawyer.

Never get in a fight with someone who's got nothing to lose?

Very wise advice.

This got me to thinking about other parallels – Paul in particular. In Philippians, Paul is writing from prison when he says:

"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body" (Philippians 1:20-24 )

Paul is a mad man! He says here that it would actually be nice to die! Not in a suicidal "woe is me" kind of way. Rather, he is actually torn between which is the best course of action, to die now and be with Christ or to live and continue preaching the Gospel?

Why was Paul seemingly unstoppable? Why was his life so exciting? Because this is a man who realized, as long as he had Christ, he had absolutely nothing to lose. It didn't matter if he was beaten, stoned, imprisoned, shipwrecked, whatever... he looked at things in a completely different way. Profit and personal gain became loss. Heartache and trials were seen as lasting profit.

Two chapters later he says, "But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 8 What is more, 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 3:7,8)

God, help us to be people who understand that, if we have gained Christ – loss, pain and struggle are made bearable in this light of this perspective. Wean us off the empires we have built and the goods we gathered around us in extravagant piles. Pull us close to Your side, the giver and sustainer of life.

Drowning in God's Favor

The Apostle Paul once said:

"I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:11-13)

Verse 13 "I can do all things..." is probably one of the most quoted and abused scriptures in the entire Bible. Those who are struggling cling to this verse and quote it to stir up hope and confidence in the face of legitimate trials. But just as likely to quote this verse are well-meaning Christian athletes who use it in the gym to sike themselves up for a new personal best on the bench press – as if Christ is in Heaven hurriedly dispatching muscle-bound seraphim to assist with the weights.

This passage obviously addresses the strength God gives us in difficult situations, but I wonder if this is only half of what Paul was trying to communicate. We shouldn't forget that his message here is TWO-sided – that he has learned to be content in seasons of great need... AND of plenty. Seasons with hunger pains AND seasons with a full belly.

So, when we get to verse 13 and he says, "I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me," why do we typically think Paul was referring only to trials? No doubt, it is often difficult to keep our eyes on Christ in the midst of the storm. Peter learned this more literally than most of us when he started sinking after having his gaze distracted by the wind and the waves (Matt 14). There's something about the moment when cold floodwaters creep up the back of your neck that forces you to look upward, isn't there? I have learned some of life's most beautiful lessons in the depths of pain and sorrow, only because my circumstances compelled me to turn to Christ, my Rescuer.

However, in times of great ease and blessing, we are not pushed beyond the brink of our own abilities. We can handle it and, consequently, we feel no need to stay close to the only One keeping us afloat. Though once riveted to God, our attention often turns downward to the gifts we hold in our hands and the many more laid at our feet. 

It appears, then, that perhaps the more perilous situation may actually be the time of plenty since we so often grow unaware of our ceaseless and desperate need for Christ – a need that stays constant regardless of our circumstances. So then it is in times of FAVOR that we must stay closest to our Savior lest we forget where we came from and Who sustains us, even our every breath.

So, whether we find ourselves in need or in want, quoting Philippians 4:13 is appropriate, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." But let us learn to stand humbly on this promise in times of plenty as well.

God of mercy, help us as we wade through the ocean of your rich blessings, to keep our eyes fixed on You, from whom all good things flow – lest we find ourselves sinking to the most ironic death, drowning in a sea of favor.

"How are you?" Shouldn't be Rhetorical

When I think of words that are misused or have lost their meaning, several come to mind. The word "Love" is often used to mean infatuation, sexual desire or casual friendship just as often as deep, passionate commitment. The term "Christian" can refer to a nominal church-goer or someone who lives out their faith intentionally with great sincerity. 

Yesterday I got to thinking about another phrase that gets misused in a different way. It's misuse is more akin to using God's name in vain. In other words, we say it without any real meaning behind it. It has become merely a greeting that means the same as "Hello."

That is, "How are you?"

When someone welcomes you with, "What's up?" you don't explain what's above your head, it's merely a rhetorical question – a greeting. While being scolded by your parents, they probably asked you, "Do you think I'm stupid or something?" But even as a child you understood what "rhetorical" meant – this is a question I am NOT supposed to answer.

But I have found that this question, "How are you?" creates more problems than most standard greetings. Our world could be falling apart and we immediately answer back, "Good, and you?" This typical response is usually acceptable because the person asking never really expected or wanted to hear how their friend was actually doing. The friend is rarely offended by the shallowness of the question because, most likely, he never intended to answer with any real degree of honesty anyway.

I see this question thrown around most often by church people. Whether welcomed by friends or a well-oiled visitor team outfitted with matching polo shirts and name badges, "How are you?" is one of the most popular greetings we use. Most of the time this is a harmless question that is widely and mutually accepted. However, in the church, I wonder if it should be used so casually.

The church is a place where hurting people go. At least, it should be. Some have called it a hospital for the sick, not a country club for the well-to-do. But if our churches are full of hurting people, shouldn't we address the lack of thinking behind what we say? We are virtually surrounded by people who are struggling against incredible odds. Everywhere we look, there are those who are in the midst of pain, heartache and abuse of the most nightmarish kind. So what are they to think when we stroll up with our gleaming Christian smile and casually ask, "How are you?"  Do we really expect them to respond with the ugly, unvarnished truth? Is it really possible to be transparent, "Well, actually, I'm dying on the inside. But thanks for asking! How are you?"

Rarely will someone be this frank about their feelings. So the, "How are you?" question ends up forcing this person to smile, lie and say everything's okay. Of course, the guilt of wearing this mask only compounds the problem, pushing the hurting person deeper into their pain.

Proverbs 18:21 tells us that "Life and death are in the power of the tongue." James says "If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless" (1:26). Later on in chapter 3 he goes on to warn about the strong influence of our words by comparing them to a small but deadly fire that has the destructive power to burn down an entire forest. If James rewrote the old nursery rhyme, perhaps the new version would go, "Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can straight up kill you." This little rhyme is such crap! It is a lie that we tell our kids to trust in even though we don't believe it ourselves. Bumps and bruises heal very quickly, even major injuries with a little patience. But hurtful words, even when they are spoken unaware, can cause irrevocable damage that only festers as time goes by.

So what am suggesting? Is it that we should never ask people how they are doing? Am I saying that every casual encounter should turn into a counseling session? Not at all. But I do think there are a couple of things to keep in mind:

1). Be Mindful - Understand that people everywhere are hurting, especially those who act like they've got it all together. Many have become pros at covering up their true feelings after encountering wave after wave of well-meaning Christians who don't think about the words they use. That's why it's second nature for hurting people to smile, shake hands and respond, "I'm great, how are you?" It's clearly a defense mechanism but it's easier, isn't it? It's easier than ruining the upbeat vibe of the room or the smile of the nice person who's gone out of their way to say hi. Nobody likes to be a Debbie Downer. So when you greet people, keep in mind that you may be encountering a person who is in the depths of sorrow, pain, struggle, depression, temptation, heartache or the like.  Be perceptive so that, if need be, you can immediately shift gears from the casual to the engaged. Let this new sharpened awareness mold your words and actions in conformity to how Christ would have responded.

2). Be Deliberate - Have you ever been milliseconds away from finishing the customary handshake or hug when your friend squeezes a little tighter, pulls you in a little closer and repeats the question? This time, slower, with feeling and sincerity in their voice, looking in to you rather that at you. "No really, how are you doing?" Truly, WHAT we say is not nearly as important as HOW we say it. Choose your words carefully. Be deliberate, intentional, purposeful. Mean what you say. Talk to people, not at them. When the time is right and the setting is appropriate, repeat the question... that is, if you are willing to wait and listen to the truth.