Sunday, May 29, 2005

Getting Facts Before You Judge (May 29, 2005)

A writer to "Dear Abby" complained that her son's friends never reciprocated invitations to their home. Someone later wrote to say that when she was a child she couldn't invite anyone to her house because her father was a violent drunk. She never dared explain why she wouldn't have people over. Friends just thought she was inhospitable.

A friend once told me how he berated a girl for looking away whenever he talked to her. She said, "I have a lazy eye." He felt awful and apologized.

Last night playing basketball at the Y one of our regulars complained to me about the behavior of a guest player. I said, "I think he's slow-witted."

Maybe he wasn't. But I remember one time when I was working as a security guard and an early-arriving kitchen worker fussed irritably about some door being locked and I almost said, "Good grief lady, would you lighten up?" I'm glad I didn't say that, because it soon became apparent that she was borderline retarded. A locked door had thrown her off routine, and she did not know how to cope.

I think of cases like these when it comes to interpreting the difficult words of Jesus in Matthew 7:1: "Do not judge." Do not judge? What can he mean? Open the Bible to almost any page at all and you will find judgment on it. In 1 Corinthians 5 and 6, St. Paul actually condemns the church for not judging its own. If the commandment, "Do not judge" were a simple absolute, then Jesus was the worst of hypocrites, since he was one of the most judgmental individuals you will ever see. (I laugh at people who say that Jesus was tolerant. They have not read his words.) Judgment is necessary. We must have police and courtrooms and judges and prisons; we must have teachers who maintain order and parents who discipline and friends who say, "You must not do that." Eliminating judgment altogether is a recipe for chaos.

But Christians must temper judgment with mercy. We are to extend grace as much as we can, and remember all those times when we were misunderstood (or worse, misunderstood others) because the accusers didn't have all the facts. We must be eager to forgive and happy to discover reasons why the bad behavior wasn't as bad as we thought.

So while it may be that the friend who failed to invite you was just inhospitable, the person who looked over your shoulder was rude, and the ballplayer who fouled you was mean, it might also be that they were less able to control things than you would have been. Assume that - assume that they all had good reasons, and you'll find yourself becoming a gracious person. Of course, if you gauge it wrong, you may just turn out to be a dupe. Even so, it is better to be a dupe than a crank.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

The Cowardice Of Shunning Controversy (May 15, 2005)

The pastor of one of America's biggest churches was asked by a journalist why he never addressed a certain highly-charged, biblical issue in the pulpit. He replied that he did not feel comfortable talking about it.

He needs to start feeling comfortable talking about it.

The sin of cowardice plagues our clergy today. The temptation isn't new - even St. Paul lamented his susceptibility to cowardice, which is why he begged the Ephesians to pray that "words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel...Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should" (Ephesians 6:19-20). That is a good prayer to pray for all spiritual leaders. Tell God to make us fearless. The dirty little secret of my vocation is that we ministers want to be liked, and, since our livelihoods partly depend on not ticking off too many people, the pressure to avoid saying anything that might alienate is extreme.

A church elder once told me that his pastor confided in him that he could never address the issue of divorce because so many people in his congregation were divorced. So what? We're sinners too - would he refuse to condemn sin? Would he shun the duty of calling us to repentance because some of us might not like that?

Look at the way John the Baptist stood toe-to-toe with Herod Antipas and said, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife" (Mark 6:18). Surely he knew such a comment could lose him his public ministry (it did) and his life (it eventually did). Or look at St. Paul's incredible speech to the Athenians. Surrounded by pagan temples he said, "the Lord of heaven and earth does not live in temples built by hands" (Acts 17:24). In the land of idols he affirmed, "We should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone" (Acts 17:24). No wonder that Greeks wanted to kill him (Acts 16:19-24; 19:23-34). And look at his declaration to fellow Jews in Acts 22:21-22, where he dared to say that God had called him to save Gentiles - the enemy. No wonder that Jews wanted to kill him too. And this ice-for-veins apostle wanted more courage? That is like Barry Bonds circa 2001 wanting more steroids!

If the apostles were ministering today, I wonder if we would disdain them as shameless provocateurs. They strike me as the sort who would go to Salt Lake City and call Joseph Smith a fraud; to San Francisco and say, "Those who practice homosexuality will not inherit the kingdom God"; to a Muslim community and say that Mohammed was a pedophile (he had sex with a nine-year-old); to anyplace at all and say, "There is salvation in no one but Jesus Christ" (Acts 4:12). I never see them evading tough issues of doctrine or practice with a dismissive "I don't feel comfortable talking about that." On the other hand, I am beginning to suspect that those traits we now honor as “tactful” and “winsome” might, in the light of apostolic courage, be shown to be nothing more than yellow-bellied, self-protecting cowardice.

May God give courage to all of us who dare to speak for him.

Sunday, May 8, 2005

Lighten Up, Ye Who Are Easily Ticked Off (May 8, 2005)

A radio program host was lauding Laura Bush for her generally well-received comedic skewering of her President husband. When a caller complained that the First Lady's comments were disgusting and inappropriate, the host said, "I have a question for you. Are you the kind of person who is easily offended?"

Great question! Too many people are too easily offended. They spend their days looking for something to tick them off. They wait like a starving Venus Fly Trap to snag offenses out of the air. God help you if you are married to one of these - like the saintly friend of mine who gets screamed at all the time by his offense-seeking missile of a wife. Some time ago he was awakened in the morning by one of her verbal tirades and he thought, "Man. I haven't even done anything yet."

Some years ago I was driving in a car with a (thankfully non-blood) relative and for whatever reason I was in a pretty good mood, but she shot that down pretty quick by looking out the window and dutifully recording everything she didn't like. Oh please. Lady. Lighten up.

Of course, I should talk. I'm a minister, and part of my duty before God is to get riled up by sin and channel that righteous anger into rebuke and warning and a call to repentance. Some things should offend us. Abraham's nephew Lot was "distressed by the filthy lives of lawless men" and "tormented in his righteous soul by the lawless deeds he saw and heard" (2 Peter 2:7-8). Not to be offended by such sin is itself an offense.

So where do you draw the line between holy righteous anger and unholy over-sensitivity? I don't know - that is a tough one. I guess one general rule is to try to be as pleasant and agreeable and gracious as you can under the circumstances. Also, keep a mental tally of how many times you say "I can't stand" as opposed to "I just love." Say fewer of the former and more of the latter. And as for perceived insults to your person and character, just forget those. Smile and pretend not to notice.