Good Men In The Service Of Evil (November 2, 2003)

The other day I chased a historical rabbit trail and discovered the story of a good man caught on the wrong side of an armed conflict.

I had long been curious about the backstory behind the Irish folk song "Grace" (sung magnificently by Anthony Kearns). The song is a first-person account of a man getting married just before his execution. The chorus goes:

Oh Grace, just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger
They'll take me out at dawn and I will die
With all my love I'll place this wedding ring upon your finger
There won't be time to share our love, for we must say good-bye.

The song is so emotionally powerful that I almost cried when first I heard it. So I looked it up and found that it referred to Joseph Plunkett, a key figure in the "Easter Uprising" of 1916 in Dublin. The uprising was a miserably ill-advised coup attempt by Irish rebels that the British easily crushed. Plunkett and 15 co-conspirators were arrested and executed. The night before facing the firing squad, Plunkett married his sweetheart, Grace Gifford, in a brief ceremony at the chapel in Kilmainham Gaol (Jail). Widowed within hours, she never remarried. Grace Gifford Plunkett became a leading voice for Irish independence as she honored (or some would say "exploited for political purposes") her husband's death, and died in 1955.

I do not know if there are any Sinn Fein sympathizers among my readers, but if there are, I will lose them right now by saying I think they are a bunch of terrorists. Their cause, methods and ideology are light-years removed from the valid struggles for independence on the part of India in the 1940s or the American colonies in the 1770s. It is not unreasonable to credit Irish nationalists with inventing the brand of terrorism that became the scourge of the latter 20th century and that now bleeds into the 21st.

The Easter Uprising of 1916 was wrong through and through, and it set the stage for the horrors that plague cities like Belfast to the present day. But - and this sets my mind reeling - Joseph Plunkett was a brave, devout Christian man. He was a fine scholar and poet, and some of his religious poetry is superb. Read this one, and note the simplicity and elegance with which Plunkett expresses the truth that Christ's glory is found in nature:

I See His Blood Upon The Rose

I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows
His tears fall from the skies.

I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice - and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.

All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined by every thorn,
His cross is every tree.

I believe that Plunkett's heart was touched by the grace of God. So, how could he have been so wrong in his choice of political alignment?

It occurred to me in mulling this over that Plunkett was not alone. Perhaps the two worthiest Christian men who fought in the Civil War were Generals Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. (My favorite example of Lee's integrity has to do with the fact that, when offered money to write his memoirs, he refused on the grounds that he would not profit from the blood of his men. No such scruples inhibited Norman Schwarzkopf and Colin Powell, who signed book deals for 5 and 6 million dollars each after Gulf War I.) But Lee and Jackson were on the wrong side. They did not see the war in terms of upholding the institution of slavery, but, ultimately, that is what it came to be about. Good men fought for evil.

Even Judah's best king, Josiah, fought in a bad cause. 2 Kings 23:25 says of him, "Neither before nor after Josiah was there a king like him who turned to the Lord as he did." But when he was just 39 Josiah foolishly went after Neco, the Pharoah of Egypt, who had gone to help Assyria against Babylon. Neco warned Josiah to stay away, saying, "I have no quarrel with you. God told me to hurry, so do not oppose God." (2 Chronicles 35:21). Neco was right; Josiah was wrong, and Josiah died needlessly in battle.

In trying to sort out a lesson from such tragedies, it seems to me that they ought to inspire humility among the people of God. The best among us can sometimes be found contending on the wrong side. Remember that, and pray always for wisdom, and know that the holiness of your character does not guarantee the rightness of your cause. And let these cases move us to obey Jesus' command to love our enemies. Some of them are very good people. And even though - in the name of duty and justice - we have to kill them sometimes, remember that we may well see them in heaven, and be able to resume our brotherhood with them there.

How Do You Want To Die? (October 26, 2003)

Get a living will.

Recently I have found myself on the "wrong side" of the Terri Schiavo case, disagreeing with the vast majority of fellow conservative pro-lifers who have campaigned to restore the feeding tube that has kept her in a vegetative state for 13 years. I have always believed that it is immoral to enforce extreme measures - like a respirator for one who will never breathe, or a feeding tube for one who will never eat - upon an individual who cannot consent to them.

You may disagree with me, and I know of many fine Christian brothers and sisters who would be shocked and grieved that a pro-life minister would hold such a view. But even if Christian friends differ on whether withholding such treatment is an act of mercy or an act of murder, let's all agree on this: that we should make our own wishes known - clearly, in writing - to those who could be responsible some day for connecting or unplugging the machines that might preserve our beating hearts.

My own family knows my wishes. If I am incapacitated with no chance of recovery, then slap a “Do not THINK of Resuscitating” on my clipboard and leave me free of all respirators, feeding tubes and dialysis machines. If I can't breathe, swallow, or filter out my poisons, then for heaven's sake (literally!), for the love of God (literally!), let me go home and see my Savior.

I know plenty of people who feel the same way I do about that, but in all my life I've only met one who said she wanted every possible measure to keep her alive. Fair enough - let it be done so for her. Others are content to let their families make the decision. That's fine too, but keep in mind that (1) Families tend to argue about it - as they are doing now in the Schiavo case, and (2) Families, in my
experience, almost never pull a feeding tube. Usually they default to whatever machines will keep the heart beating.

"Let each man be fully convinced in his own mind." (Romans 14:5) Whether you want full measures, half measures, or (like me) no measures at all, do everybody a favor and make your feelings known. And if you are ever in that tough spot of having to make the life-or-afterlife decision for someone else, remember that the rule of our Lord applies: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." (Matthew 7:12)

A Word For The Spiritually Discouraged (October 19, 2003)

Last week's Chicago Tribune contained an article detailing Mother Theresa's religious despair. Letters that she wrote to priests and counselors have been made public, and they reveal at times a surprisingly bleak assessment of her spiritual outlook. Some quotes:

I am told God lives in me - and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul.

I want God with all the power of my soul - and yet between us there is terrible separation. Heaven from every side is closed.

I feel just that terrible pain of loss, of God not wanting me, of God not being God, of God not really existing.

I wondered what I would say if I were the priest who received these expressions of sorrow and had to write some words of comfort to so great a soul as Mother Theresa. For what it is worth, here a few thoughts.

1) You're not alone. Read again David's laments in the Psalms. Jesus himself cried out from the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" If the holy Son of God felt abandoned, why in heaven's name shouldn't you feel that way sometimes?

2) Consider the possibility that the distance you feel from God is an affliction from the devil that God permits in order to humble you. St. Paul wrote, "To keep me from becoming conceited...there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me." (2 Corinthians 12:7). Many admire you, wish they could be like you, think you are a living saint. What a diabolical temptation to pride! Who could resist that temptation without the aid of a heavy load of sorrow to keep the soul from exalting itself like Lucifer?

3) Remember that the fullness of God's presence is something that we're supposed to look forward to. If you thought you could get it here you are mistaken. Even Paul said, "Now we see through a glass darkly." (1 Corinthians 13:12). If you could experience all of God now, then what is heaven for?

4) Is it possible that you are expecting a sense of God "wanting you," or approving you as a reward for all the good things you've done? If so, laugh that thought right out the window immediately. God accepts you (whether or not you feel he does) not because you are a saint but because Jesus died for your sins.

5) Some people find perverse satisfaction in deepening despair. Beware this tendency in yourself, and do not think you are immune to it. Just as anorexics will turn away from the food that would make them healthy, so some melancholics will resist joy even when it is beating hard at the door of their hearts. When the Spirit of God alights on your soul with an occasion to rejoice, indulge the joy!

God loves you.

Delighting In Creation (October 12, 2003)

Go out and see some nature. It is good for you, and may draw you closer to God.

Recently I had the pleasure of talking to a visitor at church who turned out to love our national and state parks as much as I do. There is a special joy in finding a kindred spirit who agrees that Starved Rock is best when covered with ice and snow, or that the time to visit the Warren Dunes is in the off-season when you can have them all to yourself.

While the Psalmist tended to look skyward for such inspiration ("The heavens declare the glory of God!"), you can also look around you at rivers and trees and canyons and waterfalls to receive that same sense of divine majesty. God put in our hearts something that thrills to the glory of his creation, and I believe it is good to feed that thrill and let it intensify. I remember as a child seeing the mountains of
Grand Teton National Park, and being so consumed with longing that it felt like I would burst inside. It was almost as if I wanted my eyes to be bigger - like I wanted a greater capacity to take in the view and savor it as it ought to be savored.

I believe the voice of God calls to us through that longing. It certainly did for a friend of mine who now serves in youth ministry. He told me that the pivotal moment of his conversion came when he was on vacation in Alaska. There was no religious faith in his upbringing, but as he stared at the mountains one day the thought came
irresistibly to his mind: "There is a God."

There is a God, and he likes to speak his glory and refresh our souls through that which he has made. As 19th-century English minister Charles Spurgeon said to fellow pastors,

He who forgets the humming of the bees among the heather, the cooing of the wood pigeons in the forest, the song of birds in the woods, the rippling of rills among the rushes, and the sighing of the wind among the pines, need not wonder if his heart forgets to sing and his soul grows heavy. A day's breathing of fresh air upon the hills, or a few hours' ramble in the beechwoods' umbrageous calm, would sweep the cobwebs out of the brain of scores of our toiling ministers who are now but half alive. A mouthful of sea air, or a stiff walk in the wind's face, would not give grace to the soul, but it would yield oxygen to the body, which is next best.

Well, this is my day off, and I live only 80 minutes from Matthiessen State Park. Bye.

The Dangers Of Corporate Forgiveness (October 5, 2003)

A question came up in Sunday School about whether we should forgive Bill Clinton (presumably for his adultery, perjury, and relentless lying that cost American taxpayers millions of dollars). The question has given me occasion to reflect on the nature of judgment and forgiveness.

It helps to understand what the Bible teaches about forgiveness if we keep in mind the biblical illustration of indebtedness. Forgiving a sin is like canceling a debt. I owe you $100, can't pay it, and you forgive me the debt so I don't owe you anything. It is as Jesus taught us in Matthew 6:12: "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."

But let's say that John Doe owes you $100, and, needing the money back, you remind him of it. Suppose he says, "I don't owe you anything. Paul Lundquist said I don't have to pay." You would be puzzled, perhaps indignant, and say "Paul Who? He's got nothing to do with this! You owe the money to me, not to him."

The point is that I cannot forgive someone's indebtedness to a third party because I have no jurisdiction over that debt. The only debts I can forgive are those that are owed to me, just as the only sins I can forgive are the ones where I personally have been wronged. Forgiving sins committed against another is beyond presumptuous - it is a usurpation of the authority of God. That is why the Pharisees protested when Jesus said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven" (Mark 2:5). They reasoned, rightly, that only God could forgive sins. In forgiving the paralytic, Jesus claimed to be the One against Whom all the man’s sins were committed.

For that reason, it is inappropriate to speak of our forgiving Bill Clinton. My share of victimization on account of Clinton’s sins is either miniscule or nonexistent. Who in the world am I to say, "I forgive him"? That is not my call. There are many wronged parties here, and it is up to them to decide whether to forgive their sliver of the pie of Clinton's offense. Hillary appears to have "forgiven" her husband's philandering, though the more cynical among us suspect
that that has more to do with her political ambition than with her sense of charity. As for Ken Starr, Clinton unleashed the hounds on him, and as far as I know has never apologized to Starr or sought forgiveness for the misery to which he subjected him. And how do Madeline Albright and other staff members feel about having been made unwitting agents of Clinton's deception?

Each wronged party has the right to forgive, and Christians are required to forgive those who wrong us and seek our pardon. But let us be careful about employing that word "forgive" beyond its appointed boundaries. Biblical forgiveness is deep and full, but narrowly channeled. Forgiveness without accountability is simply enablement. And forgiving someone who has not wronged you comes dangerously close to playing God. If we start forgiving people without heeding these biblical constraints, we'll soon be more wicked than the unjust judge of Luke 18:1-5. At least that lazy judge eventually upheld the cause of a poor widow. But a thoughtless forgiver would say, "I have taken the high road here and granted merciful pardon to your oppressor." The widow would weep, and the oppressor would rejoice at the opportunity to go out and defraud more widows.

If we "forgive" our leaders when (1) they have not repented and (2) we had no right to forgive them in the first place, then we will have no excuse when, decades from now, ambitious villains and fiends seize on our wrong-headed mercy and rule us with a cruelty that will make Clinton's immorality look like child's play.

Death To Adulterers (September 28, 2003)

Should adulterers be executed?

You may have heard the news story about Amina Lawal, a 31-year-old Nigerian woman who, several months ago, was sentenced to death by a Muslim court that seeks to enforce sharia, or law based on the Koran. Had the sentence been carried out, she would have been pelted with rocks till dead. But last Thursday her conviction was overturned.

News commentators and human rights groups assailed the original decision to execute her, and everyone seems to be breathing a big sigh of relief now that she has been acquitted. I have yet to hear anyone, Christian, Muslim, or other, saying, “Too bad about that reversal. They really should have killed her.” We who are civilized know that stoning adulterers is barbaric and primitive, and we who are Christians know that we are supposed to be merciful and not judge anybody.

But wait a minute - there is a problem. God commanded the Israelites to kill adulterers. It’s as clear as can be: Leviticus 20:10: “If a man commits adultery with another man’s wife - with the wife of his neighbor - both the adulterer and adulteress must be put to death.” Deuteronomy 22:22: “If a man is found sleeping with another man’s wife, both the man who slept with her and the woman must die. You must purge the evil from Israel.”

If it is always evil to execute adulterers, then the Bible is false and we hold our faith in vain.

But didn’t Jesus overturn the death penalty for adulterers in that story about the woman caught in the act (John 7:53-8:11)? I don’t think so. There are several asterisks attached to that story. Look it up in any good study Bible, and you will see it bracketed or italicized because even the most conservative scholars agree that the earliest Greek manuscripts do not include it. (No Greek church father commented on the passage until the 12th century!) That does not mean the incident did not occur - I believe the story is true even though it was not originally part of John’s gospel - but we should be cautious about assuming that it has Scriptural authority.

Even assuming, however, that Jesus really did let an adulteress go free, note that he didn’t say it was because the purpose of the law concerning adulterer-execution had been fulfilled, or that men had misinterpreted it, or that he as Lawgiver was now superseding it. You can make that case (and in fact I do) about the way Jesus dealt with Sabbath law, ceremonial washings and dietary restrictions. But it does not work with adultery. Adultery is condemned in the New Testament as well as the Old.

The reason Jesus let the woman go free (with a warning not to sin again) was because her accusers were just as guilty as she. “Let him who is without sin among you cast the first stone,” he said. None of the men qualified. The justice system had broken down. When righteous men enforce the law, that is pleasing to God. When adulterers stone adulterers, that is perverted farce.

In a perfect world, no one would commit adultery. In a slightly less perfect world, all adulterers would be executed quickly. I believe that would be a wonderful world to live in. The deterrent force of a death penalty administered with absolute consistency would mean that soon there would be few adulterers to execute. There would be no AIDS or other sexually transmitted diseases. Few children would be raised in broken homes. No one would have to endure the grief of a partner who cheated and got away with it. Within a few generations the perverse chromosomes of philanderers and rapists would be weeded out of the gene pool, and the human race would become more humane.

But we don’t live in that world. That is why the Nigerian court made the right decision in freeing Ms. Lawal, and why we ought not to seek the revival of Old Testament punishments - even though, strictly speaking, God commanded them. We’re not saying that adulterers don’t deserve to die. They do. There is nothing wrong with the law. But there is something so wrong with us and our culture that we are not good enough to enforce this punishment fairly and consistently. Don’t think for a moment that we have progressed to a point of some great moral enlightenment because we now know that it is wrong to kill adulterers. The truth is the opposite. We have rather descended to such a low moral state that we cannot righteously carry out the just punishments that God ordained.

Choose You This Day (September 21, 2003)

Sometimes you just have to make a decision.

In Sunday School the other day I noted that Abraham’s servant pressed Rebekah’s family for a decision about whether they would let her go marry Isaac. “Tell me one way or the other,” he said (Genesis 24:49). They said yes, but then tried to stretch it out 10 days. He refused to put up with the delay.

Challenges to make a decision occur often in Scripture. Abraham said to Lot, “Pick the land you want. If you go left, I’ll go right. If you go right, I’ll go left” (Genesis 13:9). Joshua said to the Israelites, “Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve” (Joshua 24:15). Paul urged Herod Agrippa II to convert to Christ on the spot, prompting the king to say, “You want me to become a Christian now?” (Acts 26:28).

Yes, now. There is a time to pause, ponder, think, weigh, calculate - and there is a time to decide. If you will permit me to poke fun at my own church, I would say that we seem to be gifted ponderers but challenged deciders. Maybe that is why I have always felt so comfortable at Faith Bible Church - I blend in. A friend once pegged
my personality by saying, “I know someone who likes to say, ‘I don’t think - I react.’ You’re the opposite, Paul. You don’t react - you think.”

True, but at least I can make up my mind about where to eat lunch. Yesterday when Ben and I were finishing our sandwiches at Wendy’s a couple FBC families walked in, and I learned there had been another one of those group “Where are we going to eat?” discussions in the parking lot. For some reason, these discussions take a LOT longer
among us than they do among normal people. I still remember, with frank astonishment, that 2-hour discussion back in December about where to eat after the upcoming ice skating party. A “decision” was finally made - only to be overturned the night of the party!

Indecision isn’t always bad. Personal indecision is often motivated by a legitimate fear of choosing badly. Group indecision often springs from genuine courtesy - a desire to ensure that all voices are heard and that everyone’s inclinations are taken into account.

But good grief, sometimes you’ve just got to make a decision and go with it. Hesitation about where to eat lunch is trivial, but in matters like war, indecision on the part of Union Generals McClelland and Meade lengthened the Civil War by several years and cost tens of thousands of lives. And indecision about spiritual matters can bear eternal cost.

In C. S. Lewis' novel The Great Divorce, an angel tries to persuade a borderline soul to repent. The sinner wants to put off the decision. He’ll think about it, go home, and come back the first moment he can. The angel responds, “This moment contains all moments.”

If you are waiting to make a decision between sinning and not sinning, wait no longer. This moment contains all moments. Choose what is good. In murky matters that do not involve moral concerns, pray and choose as best you can as quickly as you can. Yes, you’ll make some mistakes and have some regrets. But you’ll make even more mistakes and have even more regrets if the only real choice you make is to make no
choice at all.