Quiet And Respectful In The Worship Service (March 27, 2005)
Sometimes on this page I address weighty matters of life and death, heaven and hell. This week I want to address something unbelievably stupid.
I would like you all to go to the bathroom before the worship service starts.
I do. Those of you who attend the church I preach at may notice that I disappear briefly at 10:54 and reappear at 10:56 during the break between Sunday School and Worship. The reason I make myself scarce then is to ensure that I won't have to during the service. I am sure you would all be terribly embarrassed if I stopped half way through my sermon and said, "I am sorry people, but you'll have to excuse me a minute. I gotta go."
Be like me. I have set an example for you to follow. Do whatever you have to do before 11:00 AM to make sure that once the service starts, you can stick around until it ends. Of course there are some good reasons for walking out (sudden nausea, a coughing fit, your kid is disruptive, your pastor is a heretic) but your own failure to plan ahead for bladder concerns is not one of them.
I am asking you to do this not out of personal pique but because the yo-yo shuffle of people going in and out of the sanctuary has become a distraction to those who are trying to worship God. I'll be specific: a friend reports that at our Good Friday Service no fewer than six people walked out and later returned. As St. James would say, "My brothers, these things ought not to be." Such disruptive behavior sticks in the craw of sincere believers who are trying to meditate upon the blessed sacrifice of our Lord.
It also puts a stumbling block before a seeker. On Easter I attempted to preach the kind of sermon I would have wanted to hear as a teenager - a rational defense of faith in Jesus' resurrection. I can't say that sermon was any good, but I was gratified to hear about a young person who was asking many questions afterward. Listen, for the sake of such an individual, you must be quiet during the service. Don’t call attention to yourself. You may be bored out of your skull. You may hate sitting in that pew, and you may only be there out of duty. Fine. I would only ask that you not make things difficult for someone whose heart is wrestling with the profoundest of all questions, "Shall I believe or not? Will I follow Christ or not?" By getting up and walking around, you send the message, "Whatever the pastor is talking about here is less important than my need to be away." That example discourages sincere worshippers and tempts wavering seekers.
Be mindful of how your behavior during a worship service affects other people. Thank you.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Capital Punishment (March 20, 2005)
Crime and capital punishment have been in the news lately. Scott Peterson has been sentenced to death for killing his wife and pre-born son. Brian Nichols should be sentenced to death for killing four in Atlanta. Robert Blake escaped the death penalty because a criminally stupid jury let him go. John Couey, who raped and killed nine-year-old Jessica Lunsford, has been caught, and, in a just world, would be put to death immediately yet very slowly.
The Roman Catholic Church opposes capital punishment. According to the Chicago Tribune, American bishops recently announced "one of the most aggressive campaigns against the death penalty in recent years." In his Palm Sunday message Cardinal Francis George said, "As we contemplate the way in which Christ died...this is a moment to ask how is it that we administer death as a society and try to come to a better understanding that we don't need to kill people in order to protect ourselves."
I'll grant that we don't need to kill people in order to protect ourselves. We need to kill people in order to obey God. That is the only thing that should matter to a man or woman of faith - not "Does this help?" but "Is this right?" The Bible teaches that it is right to execute murderers and wrong not to. Genesis 9:6 reads: "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed." This commandment, unlike Jewish ceremonial law, was never overturned or rendered obsolete in the ministry of Christ. It was a law given before Israel existed, and long before Moses ever dictated to the Israelites rules and regulations unique to them. It is a commandment for all people for all times.
It ought not be necessary to explain that the commandment, "You shall not murder" (regrettably sometimes translated "You shall not kill") is an order to refrain from killing without just cause, rather than to refrain from killing in general. If it were the latter, it would make Jehovah an odd God indeed, since he ordered the Israelites to kill tons of people - both foreign enemies and domestic offenders. Just read the Bible. I wonder sometimes if Christians who in principle oppose capital punishment endure a terrible burden on their faith: the disquieting knowledge that the God they worship is a death penalty fanatic. In the Bible, God's anger burns not only against murderers but against those who fail to kill those who need to die. (See for example 1 Samuel 15:18-19).
So the Pope is wrong on this but so also are my evangelical colleagues who, before a victim's body has grown cold, start lecturing us on how we need to forgive the murderer. Even the pastor who conducted Jessica Lunsford's funeral told churchgoers to forgive Couey. Oh please. First of all, we cannot forgive him. Only God can do that. The only sins we're allowed to forgive are the ones committed against us. To claim to forgive other sins as well is to claim to be God - see Mark 2:7. If Couey did not rape and kill you (or your daughter), then saying you forgive him is blasphemy pure and simple.
But let's grant the blasphemy for argument's sake and ask, "Even if we could forgive Couey, should we?" Couey did not turn himself in, and was caught only because he is a repeat offender who failed a lie detector test. I haven't heard any remorse, sorrow, grief, acknowledgment of evil or "rending of the garments" from him. But that does not seem to matter to preachers who feel that our forgiveness should be "just like God's - universal and unconditional."
Except that God's forgiveness has never been universal or unconditional. God did not forgive the homosexual rapists of Sodom - he firebombed them. Jesus did not forgive the temple moneychangers - he expelled them. The Holy Spirit did not forgive Annanias and Sapphira for lying - he shut down their beating hearts. Our God judges sin and insists that we do the same. Mercy is available, of course, but under conditions of faith and repentance - and it does not always rule out consequences (like death) for serious crimes.
The biblical thing to do to John Couey is to kill the creep. Before we do, we may feel free to preach to him and say something like, "May God have mercy on your soul." Who knows? Maybe God will have mercy on his soul. Maybe we and Jessica and Couey will all make it to heaven and rejoice together in God’s presence with spirits remade and free from sin. But till then, kill Couey. It is a blasphemy to forgive him, and a defiance of God's law to let him live.
Crime and capital punishment have been in the news lately. Scott Peterson has been sentenced to death for killing his wife and pre-born son. Brian Nichols should be sentenced to death for killing four in Atlanta. Robert Blake escaped the death penalty because a criminally stupid jury let him go. John Couey, who raped and killed nine-year-old Jessica Lunsford, has been caught, and, in a just world, would be put to death immediately yet very slowly.
The Roman Catholic Church opposes capital punishment. According to the Chicago Tribune, American bishops recently announced "one of the most aggressive campaigns against the death penalty in recent years." In his Palm Sunday message Cardinal Francis George said, "As we contemplate the way in which Christ died...this is a moment to ask how is it that we administer death as a society and try to come to a better understanding that we don't need to kill people in order to protect ourselves."
I'll grant that we don't need to kill people in order to protect ourselves. We need to kill people in order to obey God. That is the only thing that should matter to a man or woman of faith - not "Does this help?" but "Is this right?" The Bible teaches that it is right to execute murderers and wrong not to. Genesis 9:6 reads: "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed." This commandment, unlike Jewish ceremonial law, was never overturned or rendered obsolete in the ministry of Christ. It was a law given before Israel existed, and long before Moses ever dictated to the Israelites rules and regulations unique to them. It is a commandment for all people for all times.
It ought not be necessary to explain that the commandment, "You shall not murder" (regrettably sometimes translated "You shall not kill") is an order to refrain from killing without just cause, rather than to refrain from killing in general. If it were the latter, it would make Jehovah an odd God indeed, since he ordered the Israelites to kill tons of people - both foreign enemies and domestic offenders. Just read the Bible. I wonder sometimes if Christians who in principle oppose capital punishment endure a terrible burden on their faith: the disquieting knowledge that the God they worship is a death penalty fanatic. In the Bible, God's anger burns not only against murderers but against those who fail to kill those who need to die. (See for example 1 Samuel 15:18-19).
So the Pope is wrong on this but so also are my evangelical colleagues who, before a victim's body has grown cold, start lecturing us on how we need to forgive the murderer. Even the pastor who conducted Jessica Lunsford's funeral told churchgoers to forgive Couey. Oh please. First of all, we cannot forgive him. Only God can do that. The only sins we're allowed to forgive are the ones committed against us. To claim to forgive other sins as well is to claim to be God - see Mark 2:7. If Couey did not rape and kill you (or your daughter), then saying you forgive him is blasphemy pure and simple.
But let's grant the blasphemy for argument's sake and ask, "Even if we could forgive Couey, should we?" Couey did not turn himself in, and was caught only because he is a repeat offender who failed a lie detector test. I haven't heard any remorse, sorrow, grief, acknowledgment of evil or "rending of the garments" from him. But that does not seem to matter to preachers who feel that our forgiveness should be "just like God's - universal and unconditional."
Except that God's forgiveness has never been universal or unconditional. God did not forgive the homosexual rapists of Sodom - he firebombed them. Jesus did not forgive the temple moneychangers - he expelled them. The Holy Spirit did not forgive Annanias and Sapphira for lying - he shut down their beating hearts. Our God judges sin and insists that we do the same. Mercy is available, of course, but under conditions of faith and repentance - and it does not always rule out consequences (like death) for serious crimes.
The biblical thing to do to John Couey is to kill the creep. Before we do, we may feel free to preach to him and say something like, "May God have mercy on your soul." Who knows? Maybe God will have mercy on his soul. Maybe we and Jessica and Couey will all make it to heaven and rejoice together in God’s presence with spirits remade and free from sin. But till then, kill Couey. It is a blasphemy to forgive him, and a defiance of God's law to let him live.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Be Pleasant (March 13, 2005)
"What's so hard about being pleasant?"
I may have heard somebody say that once, but now I have picked up that phrase as my own and toss it out from time to time when I witness (or hear about) someone being rude. Last week for example I read in Sports Illustrated about churlish baseball manager Frank Robinson, whose "needle is sharp. Recently, upon meeting a young team employee new to baseball, Robinson turned to a relative veteran and said dryly, 'He won't last.'"
Was that necessary, Frank? Would it really have been all that hard just to extend a hand of welcome to the new guy and say, "Glad to meet you"? Casual courtesy strikes me as a pretty easy virtue. Diligence and sobriety and chastity and heroism might be tough, but smiling and saying hello is a "gimme" - a matter of simple moral arithmetic in a world of hard moral calculus. I'm reminded of what Pastor Rick Warren said about how easy it is to serve as a host for one of his Purpose-Driven Life studies: "All you have to do is be nice to people!" Warren rightly assumed that being nice to people was so elementary that just about anybody could do it.
Even kids can be nice. My son Peter warmed my heart the other day by saying that he had gained an online reputation for being nice to "noobs" - novice players in a video game that he was good at. The game pits somewhat randomized teams against each other, sparking the occasional complaint from a skilled player, "Oh expletive, we've got a noob on our team." Peter types in, "We were all noobs once. Embrace your inner noob." There you go, son. Keep up the good work.
As you examine yourself for this virtue, do not assume that just because you are pleasant and courteous to some people, you are therefore pleasant and courteous. No, you have to be that way all the time. Hardly anyone is constantly nasty to everybody. Hitler was nice to his dog. I have known people who treated me with tremendous consideration and deference but who then turned around and spoke to their own family members with cruel insults and profanity-laden contempt. Maybe they were nice to me, but they were not nice.
The writer for Sports Illustrated said of Robinson, "He's a crank, God bless him." Well, ok, God bless him maybe but I'd really rather that God reform him. I don't like cranks. They make it hard for me to be kindly disposed to them. Don't be a crank. It is not that hard to be pleasant.
"What's so hard about being pleasant?"
I may have heard somebody say that once, but now I have picked up that phrase as my own and toss it out from time to time when I witness (or hear about) someone being rude. Last week for example I read in Sports Illustrated about churlish baseball manager Frank Robinson, whose "needle is sharp. Recently, upon meeting a young team employee new to baseball, Robinson turned to a relative veteran and said dryly, 'He won't last.'"
Was that necessary, Frank? Would it really have been all that hard just to extend a hand of welcome to the new guy and say, "Glad to meet you"? Casual courtesy strikes me as a pretty easy virtue. Diligence and sobriety and chastity and heroism might be tough, but smiling and saying hello is a "gimme" - a matter of simple moral arithmetic in a world of hard moral calculus. I'm reminded of what Pastor Rick Warren said about how easy it is to serve as a host for one of his Purpose-Driven Life studies: "All you have to do is be nice to people!" Warren rightly assumed that being nice to people was so elementary that just about anybody could do it.
Even kids can be nice. My son Peter warmed my heart the other day by saying that he had gained an online reputation for being nice to "noobs" - novice players in a video game that he was good at. The game pits somewhat randomized teams against each other, sparking the occasional complaint from a skilled player, "Oh expletive, we've got a noob on our team." Peter types in, "We were all noobs once. Embrace your inner noob." There you go, son. Keep up the good work.
As you examine yourself for this virtue, do not assume that just because you are pleasant and courteous to some people, you are therefore pleasant and courteous. No, you have to be that way all the time. Hardly anyone is constantly nasty to everybody. Hitler was nice to his dog. I have known people who treated me with tremendous consideration and deference but who then turned around and spoke to their own family members with cruel insults and profanity-laden contempt. Maybe they were nice to me, but they were not nice.
The writer for Sports Illustrated said of Robinson, "He's a crank, God bless him." Well, ok, God bless him maybe but I'd really rather that God reform him. I don't like cranks. They make it hard for me to be kindly disposed to them. Don't be a crank. It is not that hard to be pleasant.
Goodness And Wickedness That Only God Knows About (March 6, 2005)
May your secret life be holy.
Yesterday I went to the funeral of Sophie Laske, who died of Alzheimer's. Her son told me that in recent days he received emails and comments from people he did not know telling him about kind things his mother had done for them. Several times he said, "Mom never told me any of this!" Sophie simply "went around doing good" (Acts 10:38), and managed to keep her charitable work a secret even from her own son.
Those of us who lack Sophie's humility can't bear to let some good deed of ours go unnoticed (perhaps because we have so few of them), and find ways to leak the details of our gracious help. This vanity runs counter to the spirit of Christ, who said, "When you give to the needy , do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret" (Matthew 6:3). Secret virtue is a sign of a person at peace with God and far advanced in his kingdom.
Just as secret vice is a sign of a hell-bound fiend. There is no clearer case of that than Dennis Rader, hard-working family man, Boy Scout leader, church council president - and serial killer. Rader, Wichita's notorious BTK killer, apparently fooled even his own family for decades.
As did that pathetic human garbage can, Charles Lindbergh, who for a time fooled a whole nation into thinking he was worthy of honor. Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic on the first solo flight on May 21, 1927, and basked in world admiration for decades following. But in private he was cruel - forbidding his wife Anne to cry in his presence when their son was murdered. He despised races other than his own, writing that Whites "can have peace and security only so long as we band together to preserve that most priceless possession, our inheritance of European blood." (That aspect of Lindbergh's character was not so secret - he sympathized with Nazis and in 1938 gratefully received from Hermann Goering the German Eagle Award.) Just last year we learned that Lindbergh the family man had a secret second family in Germany with Brigitte Hesshaimer, by whom he fathered three children. (It is also virtually certain that he fathered two children by Brigitte's sister Marietta, though that family refuses to submit to DNA tests.) Though publicly lauded, Lindbergh was at heart a nasty racist lying adulterer. Now we know.
Sooner or later our secrets come out, for good or ill. St. Paul writes, "The sins of some men are obvious, reaching the place of judgment ahead of them; the sins of others trail behind them. In the same way, good deeds are obvious, and even those that are not cannot be hidden" (1 Timothy 5:24-25). Remember that, and take this warning (and encouragement) to heart. Train yourself to do good when no one is watching but God, and refrain from evil when only he would know. Confess your sins, but concerning your good works keep your mouth shut. That way, when your secrets are made known, many will be pleased and none will be horrified.
May your secret life be holy.
Yesterday I went to the funeral of Sophie Laske, who died of Alzheimer's. Her son told me that in recent days he received emails and comments from people he did not know telling him about kind things his mother had done for them. Several times he said, "Mom never told me any of this!" Sophie simply "went around doing good" (Acts 10:38), and managed to keep her charitable work a secret even from her own son.
Those of us who lack Sophie's humility can't bear to let some good deed of ours go unnoticed (perhaps because we have so few of them), and find ways to leak the details of our gracious help. This vanity runs counter to the spirit of Christ, who said, "When you give to the needy , do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret" (Matthew 6:3). Secret virtue is a sign of a person at peace with God and far advanced in his kingdom.
Just as secret vice is a sign of a hell-bound fiend. There is no clearer case of that than Dennis Rader, hard-working family man, Boy Scout leader, church council president - and serial killer. Rader, Wichita's notorious BTK killer, apparently fooled even his own family for decades.
As did that pathetic human garbage can, Charles Lindbergh, who for a time fooled a whole nation into thinking he was worthy of honor. Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic on the first solo flight on May 21, 1927, and basked in world admiration for decades following. But in private he was cruel - forbidding his wife Anne to cry in his presence when their son was murdered. He despised races other than his own, writing that Whites "can have peace and security only so long as we band together to preserve that most priceless possession, our inheritance of European blood." (That aspect of Lindbergh's character was not so secret - he sympathized with Nazis and in 1938 gratefully received from Hermann Goering the German Eagle Award.) Just last year we learned that Lindbergh the family man had a secret second family in Germany with Brigitte Hesshaimer, by whom he fathered three children. (It is also virtually certain that he fathered two children by Brigitte's sister Marietta, though that family refuses to submit to DNA tests.) Though publicly lauded, Lindbergh was at heart a nasty racist lying adulterer. Now we know.
Sooner or later our secrets come out, for good or ill. St. Paul writes, "The sins of some men are obvious, reaching the place of judgment ahead of them; the sins of others trail behind them. In the same way, good deeds are obvious, and even those that are not cannot be hidden" (1 Timothy 5:24-25). Remember that, and take this warning (and encouragement) to heart. Train yourself to do good when no one is watching but God, and refrain from evil when only he would know. Confess your sins, but concerning your good works keep your mouth shut. That way, when your secrets are made known, many will be pleased and none will be horrified.
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