The Oscars are over, and Daniel Day Lewis won the best actor award for his portrayal of our 16th President in “Lincoln.” Somewhere over the Atlantic, I treated myself to the movie, thoroughly impressed at how it captured a period that has always fired my imagination. (Bill O’Reilly’s Killing Lincoln was one of my favorite reads from last year, a book my dad and mom enjoyed and that kept me up until 2 a.m. one morning when visiting them).
Most of us know at least part of the famous “Gettysburg Address.” Far fewer are familiar with the majestic cadences of Abraham Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address. Delivered on March 4, 1865, the speech is now engraved on the right wall of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. After climbing the long stairs leading up to the shrine, I snapped this shot of the speech:
The Second Inaugural Address of Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States
Like many words, “fundamentalist” can be a slippery one. At the turn of the 20th century in the United States, the word was made popular by a series of books called The Fundamentals, a 1910 work including 90 essays outlining orthodox Christian teaching. In recent years, however, the term has come to represent more an attitude than a doctrinal stance. Fundamentalists are those who seem focused on why they are “in” and others are “out.” It is a combative approach that emphasizes doctrinal purity over loving God and neighbor.
Nothing crystallized this sour-faced, narrow approach to religion better than our Gospel concert at the Temple. (The name of the church has been changed). My family was a Gaither rip-off, “The Croffords: Musical Messages with Warmth and Love.” Our high water mark was in ’75/’76 when my dad, mom, my five brothers and I recorded albums at Pinebrook in Alexandria, Indiana, the studio owned by Bill and Gloria Gaither. Usually we sang only on weekends, but this was at the time of Jerry Falwell’s “Moral Majority.” A meeting of pastors was being held during the week at the Temple, and – not knowing the political agenda – my dad agreed for us to come and present a mini-concert for those gathered.
We pulled out all the stops. Dad took off work, as did my oldest brother. Very exceptionally, my parents released us from school a few hours early that day so we could perform. Before the concert, we had changed into our outfits in the men’s room and had to step around a barber chair. Yes, they were giving haircuts in the men’s room of the church! That was odd, to say the least.
Now this was the day of polyester leisure suits, extended sideburns, and (for boys of any age) long hair. After the concert, we were packing up the sound equipment when one of the men from the local church came up to talk to my dad. “See those sons of yours?” (He pointed to two of my little brothers, aged 6 and 7 at the time). “You really need to get their hair cut. They look like girls. Don’t you know that the Bible says that ‘It’s a shame to a man to have long hair'”?
My dad is soft-spoken, but this man had captured his attention, and not in a good way. “Really?” he countered. “Where exactly does it say that in the Bible?” The accuser left and huddled with a few others in the back of the sanctuary. In a few minutes, he returned and confidently intoned: “1 Corinthians 11:14 – ‘Does not even nature itself teach you, that, if a man has long hair, it is a shame unto him?” Nonplussed, my dad replied: “And what does ‘long’ mean? I have a friend whose hair is very short. He’d say that your hair is too long!” “Oh, no” he answered. “My hair is just right!”
Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere, my dad concluded: “You know, I took off work today. So did my oldest son. Exceptionally, we even pulled our other sons out of school so we could come today as a family and sing this concert because the Temple asked us to do so and we hoped to be a blessing. And after all that, did you come up to tell me that you appreciated the concert, that you had been blessed? No – instead, all you have told me is that my sons’ hair is too long. I think that’s pretty sad.”
That story happened 37 years ago, yet in some quarters, little has changed. There are still groups of sour-faced fundamentalists in churches whose mission is finding fault with other believers. They criticize professors who try to clothe the gospel in terms that will resonate with the current generation, even though the essence of the timeless Gospel message they present remains unchanged. Rather than penetrating the culture in winsome ways, sending out our young people to change the world, fundamentalism is the “pull up the drawbridge” mentality. It is always “us” vs. “them.” It has forgotten that the most effective evangelism is not hiking up the hems of our holy robes so as not to be sullied by the “world.” Rather, it is finding areas of common humanity with all people, then using these to build relationships with those who so desperately need Jesus. If all we ever read are Christian novels, listen only to Christian music, and limit ourselves to “churchy” things, what springboards for conversation will we have with those who have no interest in all that?
Can’t do the “Harlem Shake” – that’s demonic.
Can’t read (fill in the name of popular fun book) – that’s “worldly.”
Can’t listen to this music, or that.
Can’t, can’t, can’t…
And then we’re surprised when we’re unable to sustain a 5 minute conversation with a non-Christian?
In the Garden of Eden, God told Adam and Eve that they could eat of any of the many trees in the garden, except one (Gen. 2:16-17). So why are we hanging “don’t touch” signs on so many trees, wholesome activities that God has made for our enjoyment?
There was a time when I was ready to do battle over a long list of things. Maybe it’s just that I’m growing older and realize that life is only so long, but my list of “non-negotiables” has gotten a lot shorter. Yes, there are things we should avoid. Some activities are not wholesome and – if persisted in – will begin to cut off our relationship with God. But we should be careful in our world that has lost its sense of moral direction not to over-react, erring in the opposite direction, placing out-of-bounds many of the good things God intended for our benefit.
Paul gives us helpful advice:
“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things”(Phil. 4:8, NIV).
What an amazing world God has gifted to us! Let’s shake off the fault-finding, narrow spirit of fundamentalism. Let’s turn our young people loose; let’s send them out to affirm all that is good in God’s creation, modeling a wholesome life centered around loving an incredible Saviour, a love that can’t help but love others. Now that’s Good News!
James Dobson, Ph.D., well-known child psychologist
On December 14, 2012, a gunman entered Sandy Hook elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut. After a shooting rampage, 26 lay dead, among them mostly children.
Inevitably, there was a single question that arose in the face of such a tragedy: Why?
Many answers have been offered to that question, but one of the most ill-advised was that of Dr. James Dobson. In a December 27, 2012 radio broadcast (click here to listen), Dobson spent the first ten minutes or so reading a letter he had produced thirty years earlier, lamenting the breakdown of the family. Here he was on solid footing, clearly commenting within the area of his own professional expertise. Though Dobson has chafed in the past when critics have wrongly called him a preacher or evangelist, this did not prevent him from speculating about how God fits into the picture, comments picked-up and critiqued in multiple media outlets:
I am saying that something has gone wrong in America. We have turned our back on God. Millions of people have decided that God doesn’t exist or He’s irrelevant to us. And we have killed 54 million babies…I think we have turned our back on the Scripture and upon God Almighty, and I think He has allowed judgment to fall upon us. I think that’s what’s going on.
Like James Dobson, I lament the 54 million unborn babies lost to abortion since the legalizing of Roe v. Wade in 1973. However, there are multiple problems theologically with Dobson’s statement. Here are some of the questions that arise:
1. Would God retaliate for 54 million abortions by allowing the killing of elementary school children?
These are not Dobson’s words as such, but in context, it is his clear implication. God allowed – on Dobson’s reading – “judgment” to fall on America. Apparently, the gunman was the instrument of that wrath. Yet did not Jesus say: “He who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9b, NIV)? If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus. Our Savior is the one who took little children on his lap, hugged them, laughed with them, and told us that if we want to enter the Kingdom, we must become like them (Matt. 18:3). What a picture of unconditional love! God is not let off the hook by Dobson’s insertion of the word “allowed,” as if making God a bystander somehow lessens the offense. Child protection agencies recognize that child abuse is not the only way children are harmed; child neglect can be equally harmful to a child’s well-being. By Dobson’s logic, by allowing the gunman to go on his rampage, God neglected those children that day, supposedly to allow God’s “judgment” to fall. If Dobson is correct, how could we worship such a God?
2. Is there an “evil streak” in God?
We serve a God who is just. God cares deeply about sin, and constantly warns us against its negative effects (Galatians 6:7, Romans 6:23). But James Dobson’s comments go beyond the image of a God of justice, painting instead an evil God.
I’m reminded of a story of a old golfer with salty language. One day, his pastor invited him out to golf. On the first hole, the old man stepped up to the tee, swung at the ball and totally failed to connect. “Darn’t!” he cried. “I missed.” Surprised, the preacher warned him: “You need to watch your language. God doesn’t like it when we talk that way,” to which he replied: “Nah, it’s no big deal.” On the second hole, the same scenario repeated itself – another swing, another miss. “Darn’t, I missed” he swore. “I told you on the last hole, God doesn’t appreciate that kind of talk” the pastor warned. Again, the old man shrugged it off. Finally, on the third hole, he swung like before and totally whiffed. Yet again, he griped: “Darn’t! I missed.” Suddenly, the skies opened up and a bolt of lightning descended, striking the pastor dead. Then came a booming voice from heaven: “Darn’t! I missed!”
If the killing of 26 at Sandy Hook was truly a demonstration of God’s judgment, we must admit that God had lousy aim, punishing the wrong individuals. In Ezekiel 18, God affirms that each of us bear the weight of our own sin, that judgment comes upon the guilty party and not upon the innocent. To say that God allowed a gunman to mow down school children in a hail of bullets is to make God the de facto executioner . In this way, shall we passively attribute to our just and loving God such a callous and wicked act? To do so would be to project upon God a darkness that is foreign to the divine nature. John affirms:
God is light. In him is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5, NIV).
A dark cloud, an evil presence, invaded Sandy Hook on that day. A Hindu could believe that God – like the Force in Star Wars – has a “dark side” and a “light side,” but Christians dare not tolerate such a foreign idea in our theology. Shall we claim that God had anything to do – even passively – with that dark presence at Sandy Hook? How does that begin to fit with what we know about the character of God as revealed in Christ?
3. Are God and humans the only actors on the stage?
A final concern with James Dobson’s comments touch upon who exactly are moral agents with the power of free will. In theologies that over-accentuate the sovereignty of God – a God who controls all events in the minutest of detail – one is obligated to try to discern God’s plan in every circumstance, even the most egregious acts. Either God directly caused it or – to use Dobson’s language – “allowed” it. On the other hand, Gregory Boyd in God at War argued that God is not all powerful in so far as others also have volition that God has freely granted to them.
Who are these others?
These include human beings but also faithful angels and rebellious angels, including the devil and his demons. Since the Fall in Eden, Boyd argues that earth has become a battlefield. On such dangerous terrain, innocents are sometimes caught in the cross-fire. They may be injured, even killed. Through the Christ event – his incarnation, life, death, resurrection and ascension – God has won a decisive battle, but the war will not end until the return of Christ in triumph. Meanwhile, we live in the precarious parentheses when the reign of Christ has been inaugurated but awaits final consummation. In this “already/not yet” of human history, terrible things still happen, yet we put our trust in a God who ultimately will defeat the forces of evil.
This acknowledgement of multiple actors on the stage frees us up to imagine other possibilities. I don’t for one minute believe that God had anything to do with the massacre at Sandy Hook, either actively or passively. What was God doing that day? God was surely seen in the heroic, selfless acts of administrators and teachers who laid down their lives for their students. God was there in the great calm granted to other teachers as they comforted their students, leading them hand-in-hand to havens of safety outside. God was there as reflected in the quick thinking of some teachers who hid their children in classroom closets and cupboards, and God was there in the warm embrace of first responders and churches who brought solace to the grieving. Evil showed up at Sandy Hook that day, but it was hardly a sign of God’s judgment. Rather, in the face of that evil our active and loving God was on the job as always, using people as divine instruments to bind up the wounds of the traumatized and the brokenhearted.
Conclusion
Dr. Dobson has earned the respect of many for giving sound advice on the family across the years, but in this instance, I think he misspoke, for the reasons I’ve outlined. Of course, this happens to all of us now and then. Hopefully he can revisit the issue in a later broadcast and clarify his remarks.
As believers, do we follow grace, or do we follow law? And the answer is…
YES.
John Wesley spoke as much as anyone about grace. On the other hand, he cautioned against “antinomianism” (lawlessness). He realized that the same Scripture that speaks of the grace that saves us through faith (Eph. 2:8) also extols the perfect law of liberty (James 1:25).
In the Bible and in Wesleyan thought, grace and law must kiss.
I’ve always loved “America the Beautiful.” The lyrics by Katharine Lee Bates portray this delicate balance. The rarely sung second verse appeals:
O beautiful for pilgrim feet Whose stern impassioned stress A thoroughfare of freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law!
“Liberty” and “law” are not mutually exclusive, but complement each other.
Pastors are charged with the “cure of souls,” and for that cure to be successful, first a diagnosis must be made. Thirty years ago, I knew too many Nazarenes who for the sake of law, lost sight of grace. The early 20th century story (likely apocryphal) is told of the old woman who asked General Superintendent Phineas F. Bresee whether Nazarene women should wear makeup. His reply?
I’ve always said that if the barn needs painting, paint it!
That woman’s question betrays a graceless law, a piling up and keeping of rules as the be-all and end-all of faith. In such a context, an emphasis on grace was desperately needed, and eventually the corrective came.
But as Bob Dylan used to sing, the times, they are a changin’! Once heated discussions of whether we go to the movie theater, wear makeup or jewelry or participate in “mixed bathing” are relegated to cold and musty issues of the Herald of Holiness and Teens Today. When Christian teens in 2013 show the same rates of sexual activity prior to marriage as those who claim no faith, when cheating on a test is winked at and often there seems to be no difference between the integrity of those attending church and those who never darken its doors, then clearly the issue for the Church is no longer graceless law. Rather, we have arguably careened into the ditch on the other side of the road, that of lawless grace, the antinomianism John Wesley warned us about and that Paul deplores in Romans 6:1 —
Shall we sin that grace may abound? God forbid! (NIV).
And here is where we come back to the pastor’s diagnosis. In a church where graceless law is the malady, more preaching on grace is a must. After all, you wouldn’t add more salt to a spaghetti sauce that is already too salty!
But for 90% of our churches, in the name of grace, I wonder: Are we stuck in the ditch of lawlessness? Lawless grace is every bit as dangerous, after all, as graceless law. In such a church, the pastor today in his or her preaching will speak often of Christian ethics, of the righteous standards to which God calls His people. When the spaghetti sauce is too bland, add a pinch of salt.
At the end of the day, neither graceless law nor lawless grace can satisfy God’s people. Grace and law must kiss. We need gracious law now more than ever.
The songs we sing betray the theology we hold. In a church we recently visited, two lines from the choruses jumped out at my wife and me:
“I am a friend of God…He calls me friend.”
“He took the fall, and thought of me above all.”
There’s nothing wrong with experiential religion. As Wesleyans, we celebrate John Wesley’s “heartwarming” experience on Aldersgate Street in London 24 May 1738 when he received the assurance of his sins forgiven and reconciliation with God. God loves and cares for us and wants to enter into relationship with us. Still, I wonder: Does God exist for my sake, or do I exist for God’s?
Researchers Christian Smith and Melinda Lundquist Denton set out in 2005 to understand the religious worldview of American teenagers. What they discovered was a truncated Christian understanding that they dubbed MTD – Moralistic, Therapeutic Deism. MTD gives little thought to historic beliefs like resurrection, incarnation, sin, justification, or sanctification. Instead, what matters most is “being nice,” acting like a good, moral person – the “M.” Heaven exists and good people one day will get to go there. Further, God is someone to whom we can turn in times of trouble, but most days God doesn’t enter our consciousness – the “T.” But if skyscrapers start falling as on September 11, 2001, we run to God to comfort us. Finally, God is like the remote deity of 18th century deism, the Creator who is far away, uninvolved in our lives on a daily basis – the “D.”
How did we get to the place where God is nothing more than our lucky charm, a grandfatherly, non-demanding life coach to help us succeed? Albert Mohler places much of the blame at the feet of grown-ups:
All this means is that teenagers have been listening carefully. They have been observing their parents in the larger culture with diligence and insight. They understand just how little their parents really believe and just how much many of their churches and Christian institutions have accommodated themselves to the dominant culture. They sense the degree to which theological conviction has been sacrificed on the altar of individualism and a relativistic understanding of truth. They have learned from their elders that self-improvement is the one great moral imperative to which all are accountable, and they have observed the fact that the highest aspiration of those who shape this culture is to find happiness, security, and meaning in life.
Mohler doesn’t criticize evangelism plans, so I’ll do it for him. For years, the 4 Spiritual Laws was the default method for presenting the Gospel. That presentation begins with the affirmation that “God has a wonderful plan for your life.” Notice who is at the center of that message? It’s YOU! You’re the one that counts. You’re so important that the God of the universe’s reason for being is you and this supposed tailor-made plan. You are the sun, and God is merely Jupiter, the largest planet revolving around you.
I don’t buy it. The Bible lays out principles for living that don’t put us at the center, but God. There are general guidelines for living — “Love God, love your neighbor.” There are the 10 Commandments and the Beatitudes. If we live those out, then we are accomplishing God’s will for our lives. It’s all about God, not about us. Find out where God is at work, and join God’s mission. You don’t need a special invitation. We already received one in Scripture.
But let’s go back to those choruses cited above. They fail because they place the individual at the center rather than God. I’m not interested in fighting the so-called “worship wars” all over again, but you have to admit that some of the old hymns got it right. They exalted the Divine, God’s glorious attributes, effacing us and praising the Lord:
Immortal, invisible, God only wise!
In light inaccessible, hid from our eyes.
Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days
Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise.
Bring back the theological debates. Let’s discuss predestination, free grace, sovereignty, salvation and providence. At least these weighty topics are worthy of our time and point us away from ourselves and self-interest to the character of God and how we can bring God glory. The only antidote for those infected with MTD is to get our eyes off ourselves and our own petty interests, to put God back at the center where God belongs, in both our lives and our worship.
It was a stunning victory, a serpent-smashing triumph. Paul explains:
When you were spiritually dead because of your sins and because you were not free from the power of your sinful self, God made you alive with Christ, and he forgave all our sins. He canceled the debt, which listed all the rules we failed to follow. He took away that record with its rules and nailed it to the cross. God stripped the spiritual rulers and powers of their authority. With the cross, he won the victory and showed the world that they were powerless (Colossians 2:13-15, NCV, bolding added).
This militant tone is woven through Colossians 1 & 2. In 1:13, the Apostle rejoiced that “God has freed us from the power of darkness, and he brought us into the Kingdom of his dear son” (NCV). Having been liberated, we must avoid being recaptured through “philosophy and empty deception” (2:8, NASB).
Sometimes theologians are uncomfortable with the Christus Victor motif in the New Testament. It doesn’t seem to fit very well with “loving God and neighbor,” the watchword of relational theology. But the two needn’t be seen as contradictory. If someone is captive, only love is a strong enough motivation for daring raids behind enemy lines.
Yet Paul understood the importance of balance. In Colossians 3, he urges patience, compassion, and humility, then caps it off with a call to love:
Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful (vv. 14-15, NASB).
There is a place in Christian theology for both Mildred Wynkoop and her emphasis upon love and Gregory Boyd and his image of earth as a spiritual battlefield. There is room for both because the New Testament speaks of both. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder.
The word “relationship” is part-and-parcel of evangelical jargon. A tract left on a public bench may ask in bold letters:
Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?
And it is through the prism of relationship that some Christian theologians are formulating their views. A recent example is Brint Montgomery, Thomas Jay Oord, and Karen Winslow, eds., Relational Theology: A Contemporary Introduction (Point Loma Press, 2012), a collection of essays written by 31 authors contributing insights from the relational paradigm to a spectrum of theological and philosophical issues.
Structure and target audience
Relational Theology is structured around four categories:
1. Doctrines of theology in relational perspective;
2. Biblical witness in relational perspective;
3. The Christian life in relational perspective;
4. Ethics and justice in relational perspective.
Nested under these headings are intriguing subjects, including (among others) sin, free will and determinism, the means of grace, how humans relate to the creation, social justice, and feminist theology. True to its sub-title, “A Contemporary Introduction,” each of the essays is short, presenting a fly-over view at 30,000 feet of the ground beneath. Footnoting is very limited, which frees the text of heavy documentation, making the read more user friendly, especially for the novice. On the the other hand, since the book is geared toward the non-specialist, it is puzzling why the editors chose not to include questions for group discussion at the end of each chapter. This would have made for better learning as well as improved marketing of the book to small church groups, Sunday School classes or other venues.
Those who clicked on the Amazon.com link above will notice that the book is listed as “out of print.” Strangely, Point Loma Press (the publisher) also does not list the book on its website. It is hoped that these glitches can soon be corrected so that Relational Theology will be easily available to readers.
“On your knees, little children.” (A genoux, petits enfants)
This line from “Petit Papa Noël” sung by Josh Groban reminds us that – like many things in life – worship is something we teach our children. At Christmas time, adults supervise children in pageants at church. The little shepherds and wisemen arrive in their ill-fitting but colorfully cute outfits, and parent snap pictures, pride welling up inside. What are we teaching? From this activity, we teach our young that the Divine demands our allegiance, is worthy of our adoration.
Ideally, it is only to God that we teach our children to bow, in deference to the First of the Ten Commandments: “No other gods; only me” (Exodus 20:3, The Message). This is crucial, because to bow our knees to anyone or anything but God is idolatry, the setting up of false gods in our lives. But sometimes I wonder: When the Christmas pageant is done, the cookies are eaten, the fellowship hall vacuumed and we’ve locked the church door behind us, what are we modeling to our young the rest of the year? Even if we never verbalize “On your knees, little children” through our daily actions and reactions, to what other gods are we encouraging our children to give their devotion?
Merriam Webster’s fourth definition of worship is “extravagant respect or admiration for or devotion to an object of esteem.” As I look around our world, I see a number of things that – while wholesome within limits – can morph into something else altogether, usurping the place in our lives that belongs only to God. You probably have your own list, but here are three from mine:
Exhibit A – Media
This is a huge influence in our daily lives, and encompasses so many “gadgets.” Television is only the most obvious. By the time an English child has reached the age of 7, he or she will have already spent 1/7 of their lives – one full year – in front of the television screen. Is your living room set-up with furniture all centered around a big-screen T.V. or is it set-up in a way that encourages conversation among those in the room? Positioning of objects speaks of priorities.
Sometimes the advantage of living overseas is coming back to the United States with fresh eyes on my own country. Walking onto the platform of the Washington D.C. subway, I was amazed to see at least 80% of those waiting for the subway to arrive glued to their “smart phone.” We were all physically together, yet in spirit, we were inhabiting hundreds of different virtual worlds. Is it any wonder that Democrats and Republicans have trouble talking about anything big when in our nation’s capital we don’t even converse with each other about small things while standing side-by-side? Has our devotion to our gadgets become extravagant, edging out the rich, in-the-flesh relationships that otherwise might flourish? (This may be an ironic question on a web-based blog, so you have permission to stop reading and to spend some time with your twelve-year-old).
Learning French, I came across the word aimer. It means “to like or to love.” I assumed that to place the word beaucoup (very much) after aimer would be an intensifier, i.e. “I love you very much.” That’s not so,” said my French teacher. “The verb for love is so strong, that to add any adverb afterwards is only to weaken its meaning.”
In the same way, some adjectives attached to the front of the word “Christian” just weaken the term. Like barnacles on a ship’s hull, is it time to scrape them off? Here’s a quick list of some candidates for scrubbing:
“Evangelical Christian” – From the Greek for Good News, “evangelical” emphasizes the act of evangelism, of telling others the Good News of Jesus. This is the Gospel, that God sent Jesus to save the world — that Jesus was born, died, rose again and will one day return. Yet truth be told, all communities that bear the name of Christ preach the Gospel as they understand it, so why the back-handed slight on others by claiming the word “Good News” (evangelical) in an exclusive way? Some of the readers over at Rachel Held Evans’ blog seem to agree, and are ready to jettison this word that divides.
“Born again Christian”- Jesus told Nicodemus: “You must be born again” (John 3:7). Yet “born again” attached to “Christan” is arguably redundant. According to the theology of some, the New Birth happens for a baby at the moment of its baptism. Others see it happening when a adult makes a decision to follow Christ. Still others believe the New Birth happens at the moment of adult baptism. All three agree upon one thing: The New Birth is the gateway to Christian faith. So, the only kind of Christian is the born again kind! To ask a Christian – “Have you been born again?” – is a simple question. There is only one answer: “I’m a Christian; therefore, I have been born again.” Let’s drop “born again” as an adjective in front of “Christian.” It’s a needless piling up of words, and only causes confusion. Say: “I’m born again” or say “I am a Christian.” Labeling yourself a “born again Christian” is like saying: “I’m a bison buffalo” – two different names, same animal.
“Bible believing Christian”- This one is a bit trickier. I understand what people mean by it. They mean that the Bible is God’s Word, and should be our guide for our salvation and how we live. Some go further, saying that the Bible is without error in the original autographs (now lost, we are told). I think that there are other ways of getting this message across, without the kind of self-righteousness that the term “Bible believing Christian” exudes. Why not just say: “I’m a Christian, and the Bible is very important to me. I love how practical it is, and try to live by its guidelines.” You’ve made the same point in a non-combative way.
“Spirit-filled Christian” – By definition, all Christians are temples where the Holy Spirit resides (Romans 8:9, 1 Cor. 6:19). Yes, we are to be open to the constant outpouring and renewing of the Holy Spirit in our lives (Eph. 5:18). However, using the term “Spirit-filled Christian” seems to imply that there are Christians who do not have the Holy Spirit. It would be better to say: “Are you a Christian who overflows with the presence of God?” Such a way of putting it makes the Christian hungry for the fullness of God without implying that they are bereft of the Holy Spirit.
Some today want to avoid the term “Christian” altogether, thinking it carries too much baggage. Interestingly, the word “Christian” only appears three times in the New Testament (Acts 11:26, 26:28; 1 Peter 4:16). In all three cases, it appears as a noun. It is never used as an adjective, i.e. “That’s not very Christian of you!” This sparse use in the Bible should give us pause when we insist too much on the word. On the other hand, the terms “disciple” (follower) and “believer” are replete throughout the New Testament. The former is the term of choice in the Gospels, while the latter is common in the book of Acts. Both words place emphasis upon action, i.e. to follow and to believe. When it comes to Christ, to do one is to do the other.
Rebels often get smacked down. Jesus was a rebel, and he knew if we followed his example, we could expect the same treatment:
“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” – Matthew 5:11-12 (NIV)
In the United States, Christians throw around the term “persecution” far too lightly. It is a sacred word, dripping with the blood of the martyrs, and when we toss the term out nonchalantly, we cheapen it. This is why the Beatitude is clear: the blessing is only for those who are mistreated “because of me.” We’re not talking about a negative reaction from others that we’ve merited because of our own silly behavior in the name of Christ, such as the Florida pastor who in April 2012 threatened to burn the Koran. He should have been censored. That’s not persecution; that’s public accountability.
But let’s not be naive. The drift of Western culture on multiple fronts is such that those who resist the tide, however quietly, will necessarily stand out. As a preacher rightly pointed out: “We’re upstream Christians in a downstream world.”
There are dangers in group psychology when those who before were culturally dominant become a cultural minority. This seems to be the moment we’re living in, both in the United Kingdom and the United States. The knee-jerk reaction for the believer can be to withdraw from broader society, like a turtle who – when you poke his head with a stick – draws back into his shell. But how can we be salt and light if we remove our loving influence at the very time when it’s most needed?
A second reaction is anger, a temptation to lash out at those we perceive as marginalizing us. This may show up on FaceBook as angry status updates or bitter criticisms of politicians. Time to add a new verse to the children’s song: “Oh, be careful little fingers what you type!”
A superior path is the path of righteousness. Want to rebel? Be holy! By doggedly modeling the values of love and integrity, no matter what, we can make a difference. Rather than disengaging, our commitment – in obedience to the Great Commandments to love God and neighbor- must be to re-engage our culture. Because the stereotype is that Christians are brittle and hateful, we must go the second mile to show that the stereotype is just plain wrong.
A good example of this was Sandra Bullock, the actor who played the mom in the 2009 film, The Blind Side. She turned down the role three times, fearing it was just another example of Christians grandstanding about good deeds, while on-the-side living low-down like too many others. But after she met the real-life Christian family behind the film and spent extended time with them, she concluded: “I finally met people who walk the walk.”
When “everyone else is doing it,” when Christianity has been compromised, it’s time we put a little rebellion in the mix. Follower of Jesus, are you ready for some righteous rebellion?
“Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its own mold, but let God remold your minds from within, so that you may prove in practice that the plan of God for you is good, meets all his demands and moves towards the goal of true maturity.” – Romans 12:2, J.B. Phililips paraphrase
Let’s rebel against the low road, whether it’s the low road of non-believers or Christians who don’t act like it. It’s time to take our faith to the next level. It’s time for some holy rebellion. Are you ready to be a righteous rebel?
The Oscars are over, and Daniel Day Lewis won the best actor award for his portrayal of our 16th President in “Lincoln.” Somewhere over the Atlantic, I treated myself to the movie, thoroughly impressed at how it captured a period that has always fired my imagination. (Bill O’Reilly’s Killing Lincoln was one of my favorite reads from last year, a book my dad and mom enjoyed and that kept me up until 2 a.m. one morning when visiting them).
Gregory Crofford 