July 27, 2010: Faithful In Little
"It's a good thing I can't be tempted by money," I said to my mother, as I explained how I was bypassing a potentially lucrative job offer in order to be a missionary in South America.
"Of course you can be tempted by money!" she said.
I held my ground: "No, I really don't think so. If somebody offered me a million dollars to shove aside my plans to translate the Bible, I'd refuse it without a second thought."
"Oh Paul," she replied. "The devil is not going to tempt you with a million dollars. He is going to tempt you with a hundred dollars."
For 25 years now I have been calling to mind that soundbite of motherly wisdom because I have seen it prove prophetic time and time again. It is unthinkable that I would ever take a seven-figure bribe, or embezzle a vast sum, or defraud a deep-pocketed man. I can't see myself doing that. But I can waste small amounts on needless indulgences, and I have succumbed to the vice of giving less than I should. The devil chips away at my financial virtue in chunks of three figures or less.
Mom's insight into "small sins" came to mind the other day during a discussion among believers about whether we would have the courage to profess Christ if a gun were held to our heads. Of course no one knows what he would do in such a situation, but I maintained, "Actually, I think we'd all pass that test." It's big and stark and obvious, like the million-dollar payoff not to be a missionary. If we were told, "Deny Christ or I'll shoot you!" we'd respond, "Then I guess you'll have to shoot," and we'd wait to behold our Lord when next we opened our eyes.
But can we endure lesser trials? To me that's the really interesting question - not whether we would overcome some spectacular hypothetical temptation but whether we - in fact - fend off the little temptations that hit us every day. You could take a bullet for Christ, but can you take a little social ostracism, or rolled-eyes contempt, or belittling patronage, or offended morality? (Yes, offended morality. Sometimes I think that nothing makes a man want to hide his faith more these days than the accusation that his biblical view of sexuality is cruel.)
I certainly don't want anyone to regard me as dumb or mean or deluded or judgmental or socially inept. The devil knows my sensitivity in those things, and so he won't tempt me with a gun-to-the-head denial of Christ but rather with challenge-to-the-ego silences about Him. Such betrayals of Christ are not blatant and verbal and obvious, but quiet and subtle and hard to notice. They are among those tiny missteps that Satan loves to provoke, as the demon Screwtape explains to Wormwood in C. S. Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters":
You will say that these are very small sins; and doubtless, like all young tempters, you are anxious to be able to report spectacular wickedness. But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy. It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing. Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick.
(It goes without saying that Lewis did not regard card-playing as sinful; he was just using it as an example of a device - even one that is innocent in itself - that could be used to turn a soul away from God.)
Jesus said, "Whoever is faithful in little is faithful also in much" (Luke 16:10). It occurs to me that the reverse is not necessarily true. There are people who can do great and virtuous acts but who stumble badly over the smallest of pebbles. John McCain, for example, refused to be released from a North Vietnamese prison because his fellow prisoners would not be released with him. His courage was worthy of a medal. But then he came home and chased a skirt and dumped his wife. What a cruel, undisciplined jerk.
I think that as Christians we need not concern ourselves with big splashy tests of virtue: the million dollar offer, the gun to the head, the battlefield call of duty. Pay attention instead to the small challenges to obedience that are right in front of your eyes today. Prove faithful in those, and the big things will take care of themselves. Pass the hundred dollar test, and the million dollar test will be no temptation at all.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
July 20, 2010: In Praise Of Old Christians
Every other Thursday I go to a nursing home to help out with a chapel service that my church conducts. The old people there (ladies, mostly, because they live longer than men) are wonderful. They love to sing and worship God, and somehow they remain attentive to Bible preaching despite the fact that they've probably heard thousands of sermons over the years - and you'd certainly understand it if they were sick of them by now. The affection they show me is effusive and palpable, and they kindly appreciate everything our little group does for them.
Every other Friday I join in fellowship with a small group, half of whose members are north of 70. They are great, all of them: kind, loyal, disciplined children of God who go on adding decade to decade of faithful service to their King. Though I myself am technically past middle-age (family history suggests I won't live to 94), some of these folks have been walking with Christ since before I was born. It is an honor to worship with them, and learn from them, and hear them pray for me.
And about twice a month I meet for lunch with a retired couple, Ed and Nereida Chapman, whose Christ-like encouragement to me over the past few years has been a gift of grace straight from the throne of God.
I have a special reason for loving old Christians. The joy I receive from their patient endurance soothes the sorrow I've known from apostate friends who have left the faith. The steadfastness of gray-headed saints rebukes the cynicism that darkens my soul when I question the durability of young converts.
Do I dare tell you how cynical I've become? When baptizing earnest 14-year-old girls the thought crosses my mind, "Yes, you love Jesus now, but in 10 years you'll be living with your boyfriend (or lesbian partner), getting drunk at parties, shunning the church, and showing no regard at all for the Savior who bled and died for you." That's terribly unfair, of course - but it is a suspicion born of sad experience. Katy Perry - for example - a pop singer who extols all manner of fornication, started out as a teenager singing songs of praise to Jesus. There are plenty like her. There are also plenty of youth like the teenage boy I baptized who, in just a couple years, was spouting atheism and getting arrested.
I can remember when Andre Agassi, Gary Bussey, Mike Ditka, Bob Dylan, Larry Flynt, Horace Grant, John Lennon, BJ Thomas and Chris Webber were all born-again Christians. They dipped their toes in the pool of Christianity, maybe even jumped in and swam a bit, and then got out and toweled off. We naive Christians rejoiced for a time to see such star power join us, and some of us stupidly thought we could use their worldly influence to grow God's spiritual kingdom. But they decided not to age gracefully with us under the care of Christ.
Contrast the legions of those who "experiment" temporarily with Christian faith to the martyr Polycarp, who, when called to recant in AD 155, said, "Eighty-six years I have served Christ, and he never did me any wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?" Eighty-six years! And who knows how many more years there would have been had he not, in the next moment, been burned at the stake?
Or contrast fallen apostates with my mother, who gave her life to the Lord around the age of 10 and, as she lay dying at 76, asked for a cross that she could clutch in her hand while she waited to be ushered into the presence of God. Among her last words to her pastor: "My hope is in Christ."
When sweet Lisa Krausfeldt agreed to marry me about a year ago I emailed her the opening lines of Robert Browning's "Rabbi Ben Ezra":
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in his hand
Who saith, "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!"
You who have been followers of Christ with me for 40 years or less may only be half way through this our (earthly) journey. Grow in grace along with me. If the Lord tarries and you do not die, then be an old, feeble, sick, forgetful, dependent - yet still faithful - servant of Christ. Be an inspiration and not a byword. Join the ranks of those I love who demonstrate how to walk the path all the way to the end.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
July 13, 2010: A Time To Rant
During the French Revolution many nobles went to the guillotine with their dignity intact, refusing to give roiling mobs the satisfaction of hearing them beg for mercy or scream in fear. Stoic aristocrats kept their cool as they lost their heads.
Not Madame du Barry. When dragged to her execution on December 8, 1793, she kicked and screamed and begged onlookers to rescue her. She collapsed repeatedly and cried out, "You are going to hurt me! Why?!" On the scaffold she struggled with her executioners, who rushed their work because her shrieks had sucked all the merriment out of the crowd. Her last words were, "One moment more, Mr. Executioner, I beg you!" She was no fun to kill.
Artist Louise Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, who painted du Barry's portrait, later wrote "she was the only woman, among all who perished in those dreadful days, unable to face the scaffold with fortitude...This has always confirmed my belief that if the victims of that period of execrable memory had not had the noble pride of dying with fortitude the Terror would have ceased long before it did."
If Vigée-Lebrun was right, du Barry's undignified ranting probably saved the lives of some aristocrats who were next in line to die. Screams and shrieks stimulate the sadist but not the ordinary person who has been caught up in mob cruelty. He may actually have a conscience that the victim's expressed outrage will arouse. ("Hmm. This woman seems really upset. Maybe we're doing something wrong here?")
I thought of du Barry when reading a Facebook friend's outburst against an evil ex-husband. In the comment section I chimed in with other supporters and commended her fighting spirit. In Christian circles I often see that spouses of demon scum are advised to "forgive unconditionally" and "not give in to bitterness" and "show yourself to be strong." I do not think this kind of response is always biblical or wise. There is a time to rant. A stoic refusal to complain can make you look noble, but it can also provide cover for bad men to go on messing up people's lives. For the sake of other victims - if not for yourself - it is good to stuff your pride and shriek out loud.
King David sure didn't "take it like a man" when victimized by treacherous people. "If only you would slay the wicked, O God!" he cried. "Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!" (Psalm 139:19). St. Paul didn't let Alexander's betrayal roll off his forgiving back without slinging this word of judgment: "Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done" (2 Timothy 4:14). St. John ranted about a church-wrecker: "Diotrephes, who loves to be first, will have nothing to do with us...I will call attention to what he is doing, gossiping maliciously about us" (3 John 9-10). And, somewhat surprisingly, even the departed saints are not envisioned as having "gotten over" all the injustices done to them on earth. They plead, "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?" (Revelation 6:10).
I don't recommend living in a constant state of anger and resentment over wrongs suffered. That would be a wretched way to waste your life, and it would hide you from joy. What sane person would want to be your friend if you were chronically bitter, and who would be inspired by your example if you simply become the hourly denouncer of fiends and villains who made you miserable?
There is a difference, though, between "refusing to dwell on it" and "refusing to express it at all." The writer of Ecclesiastes said that there is a time for everything - "a time to be silent and a time to speak" (3:7) - and I have learned that there is certainly a right moment to raise bloody hell about bad people and the awful things they have done to us and our loved ones.
I can personalize this. When my first wife rejected her Christian faith and left to go pursue lesbian relationships, I wanted to be the best single dad I knew how to be. One thing I didn't want to do was convey to my sons an attitude of "Well, that's all right. Things go that way sometimes. I'll be fine. I'm not angry or bitter. This will work out for the best." I think that kind of noble fortitude just sends more marriages to the guillotine! I don't want my sons to grow up thinking, "If someday I lie, scheme, renounce my vows, dump my wife and pursue other lovers, my ex will be fine. After all, Dad was cool with it." No he wasn't. My sons saw my moral outrage and despair. I didn't scream like Madame du Barry, but I certainly grieved like David when he lost Absalom (2 Samuel 19:4). May the image of my sorrow be ingrained in their minds should they ever be tempted to betray their wives. May they think, "How could I ever do that to someone?"
May God give you wisdom to know when, and how, and how long, to rant about the abuse you have suffered at the hands of evil men. (Or evil women.)
During the French Revolution many nobles went to the guillotine with their dignity intact, refusing to give roiling mobs the satisfaction of hearing them beg for mercy or scream in fear. Stoic aristocrats kept their cool as they lost their heads.
Not Madame du Barry. When dragged to her execution on December 8, 1793, she kicked and screamed and begged onlookers to rescue her. She collapsed repeatedly and cried out, "You are going to hurt me! Why?!" On the scaffold she struggled with her executioners, who rushed their work because her shrieks had sucked all the merriment out of the crowd. Her last words were, "One moment more, Mr. Executioner, I beg you!" She was no fun to kill.
Artist Louise Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, who painted du Barry's portrait, later wrote "she was the only woman, among all who perished in those dreadful days, unable to face the scaffold with fortitude...This has always confirmed my belief that if the victims of that period of execrable memory had not had the noble pride of dying with fortitude the Terror would have ceased long before it did."
If Vigée-Lebrun was right, du Barry's undignified ranting probably saved the lives of some aristocrats who were next in line to die. Screams and shrieks stimulate the sadist but not the ordinary person who has been caught up in mob cruelty. He may actually have a conscience that the victim's expressed outrage will arouse. ("Hmm. This woman seems really upset. Maybe we're doing something wrong here?")
I thought of du Barry when reading a Facebook friend's outburst against an evil ex-husband. In the comment section I chimed in with other supporters and commended her fighting spirit. In Christian circles I often see that spouses of demon scum are advised to "forgive unconditionally" and "not give in to bitterness" and "show yourself to be strong." I do not think this kind of response is always biblical or wise. There is a time to rant. A stoic refusal to complain can make you look noble, but it can also provide cover for bad men to go on messing up people's lives. For the sake of other victims - if not for yourself - it is good to stuff your pride and shriek out loud.
King David sure didn't "take it like a man" when victimized by treacherous people. "If only you would slay the wicked, O God!" he cried. "Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!" (Psalm 139:19). St. Paul didn't let Alexander's betrayal roll off his forgiving back without slinging this word of judgment: "Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done" (2 Timothy 4:14). St. John ranted about a church-wrecker: "Diotrephes, who loves to be first, will have nothing to do with us...I will call attention to what he is doing, gossiping maliciously about us" (3 John 9-10). And, somewhat surprisingly, even the departed saints are not envisioned as having "gotten over" all the injustices done to them on earth. They plead, "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?" (Revelation 6:10).
I don't recommend living in a constant state of anger and resentment over wrongs suffered. That would be a wretched way to waste your life, and it would hide you from joy. What sane person would want to be your friend if you were chronically bitter, and who would be inspired by your example if you simply become the hourly denouncer of fiends and villains who made you miserable?
There is a difference, though, between "refusing to dwell on it" and "refusing to express it at all." The writer of Ecclesiastes said that there is a time for everything - "a time to be silent and a time to speak" (3:7) - and I have learned that there is certainly a right moment to raise bloody hell about bad people and the awful things they have done to us and our loved ones.
I can personalize this. When my first wife rejected her Christian faith and left to go pursue lesbian relationships, I wanted to be the best single dad I knew how to be. One thing I didn't want to do was convey to my sons an attitude of "Well, that's all right. Things go that way sometimes. I'll be fine. I'm not angry or bitter. This will work out for the best." I think that kind of noble fortitude just sends more marriages to the guillotine! I don't want my sons to grow up thinking, "If someday I lie, scheme, renounce my vows, dump my wife and pursue other lovers, my ex will be fine. After all, Dad was cool with it." No he wasn't. My sons saw my moral outrage and despair. I didn't scream like Madame du Barry, but I certainly grieved like David when he lost Absalom (2 Samuel 19:4). May the image of my sorrow be ingrained in their minds should they ever be tempted to betray their wives. May they think, "How could I ever do that to someone?"
May God give you wisdom to know when, and how, and how long, to rant about the abuse you have suffered at the hands of evil men. (Or evil women.)
Thursday, July 1, 2010
July 6, 2010: Christianity Has A Long List Of Do's and Don'ts.
Pastor John Ortberg recently met with a new Christian named Mike who had been the victim of bad preaching. Mike, who was "drawn to Christianity by the message of grace," complained, "I was told that being a Christian wasn't about anything I had to do; it was about a sacrifice that had already been done on my behalf. But now that I'm on the inside, I'm told I have to do stuff all the time. I have to go to church, I have to read the Bible, I have to give money, I have to volunteer. I feel like the victim of a bait-and-switch."
Hallelujah! Mike gets it. He has been the victim of a bait-and-switch, and his confusion constitutes a strong indictment of gospel presentations that shun the biblically simple words "do" and "do not," "thou shalt" and "thou shalt not."
More times than I can count I have heard preachers say, "Christianity isn't a list of do's and don'ts." They're wrong. Christianity is that and a whole lot more. That is, while our faith is more than a mere list of commands and prohibitions (there's also doctrine and relationship, for example), it is certainly not less than that. When a person like Mike bows the knee to Jesus Christ, he will find that there are lots and lots of things for him to do and not do. And we should not be afraid to tell him that. If you read the gospels, you will see that Jesus gave people do's and don'ts the very first day he met them. For example: "Follow me" (Matthew 4:19); "Stop sinning or something worse will happen to you" (John 5:14); "Go proclaim the kingdom of God" (Luke 10:60); "Sell everything you have and give it to the poor" (Luke 18:22); "Go and leave your life of sin" (John 8:11). Those are some pretty blatant do's and don'ts!
Here's a very short and incomplete list of biblical Do's if you want to be a Christian: Do believe in God (Hebrews 11:6); Do trust in Christ (John 14:1); Do take up your cross and follow Jesus (Mark 8:34); Do embrace the virtues of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). And here are some Don'ts: Don't be immoral, impure or greedy (Ephesians 5:4); Don't be a coward, murderer, idolator, or liar (Revelation 21:8); Don't engage in drunkenness, swindling, slander, adultery, or homosexual activity (1 Corinthians 6:9-10).
Despite the biblical abundance of commands and prohibitions, many teachers in the evangelical tradition seem to cast invisibility cloaks over them in the hope that they won't get in the way of anybody coming to Christ. Hence that terribly misleading "Do" verses "Done" rhetoric that Mike refers to in his complaint. Have you heard it? I have, and boy am I sick of it. It goes like this: "The difference between Religion and Christianity is that Religion is spelled D-O. I have to DO all these things to please God and get into heaven. But Christianity is spelled D-O-N-E. Christ has already DONE everything necessary to secure my salvation by living a perfect life and dying for my sins. I only have to receive his free gift!" The "DO verses DONE" illustration appears in Willow Creek's popular Becoming a Contagious Christian program and in a thousand other books and sermons too.
But please, please, just read the imperative-laden messages of Jesus and John the Baptist in the gospels, and of St. Peter and St. Paul in the book of Acts, and see if for one moment you can imagine any of them preaching that you don't have to do anything to please God because it's already been done for you! They would all face-palm themselves over the absurdity.
Imagine Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5, condemned to death for the sin of lying, protesting (with their last breaths), "But Peter, I thought you said that the difference between Religion and Christianity was that Religion insisted I DO things (like tell the truth) to please God, but Christianity says that's all been DONE for me by Christ!" Peter would respond "I never said no such thing."
Or imagine Simon the Sorcerer in Acts 8, peeved that Peter just told him to go hell after trying to buy the Holy Spirit, objecting, "But I thought this wasn't about works! I thought God accepted me just the way I am! Since when do I have to DO some good work (like revere the Holy Spirit) in order to please God? Gaining favor with God is something already DONE for me by Christ!" I could see Peter responding with the same words that Jesus once knocked him down with: "Get behind me, Satan" (Mark 8:33).
Thomas Jefferson once produced a New Testament with all miraculous elements literally scissored out of it. We know not to do that. But some of today's evangelicals, carried away by their own rhetoric, come close to cutting all the do's and don'ts out of the gospel. Stop it! Leave those commands and prohibitions in there just where Jesus and the apostles put them. They don't contradict grace. And if they bar people from coming to Christ, if they stop dead in their tracks people who "kind of like" Jesus but who hate to submit to him, then so be it. Jesus wants followers, not fans. Don't deceive the Mikes of this world by teaching, suggesting, or even hinting that there is nothing you have to do to be a Christian. That's not biblical.
Pastor John Ortberg recently met with a new Christian named Mike who had been the victim of bad preaching. Mike, who was "drawn to Christianity by the message of grace," complained, "I was told that being a Christian wasn't about anything I had to do; it was about a sacrifice that had already been done on my behalf. But now that I'm on the inside, I'm told I have to do stuff all the time. I have to go to church, I have to read the Bible, I have to give money, I have to volunteer. I feel like the victim of a bait-and-switch."
Hallelujah! Mike gets it. He has been the victim of a bait-and-switch, and his confusion constitutes a strong indictment of gospel presentations that shun the biblically simple words "do" and "do not," "thou shalt" and "thou shalt not."
More times than I can count I have heard preachers say, "Christianity isn't a list of do's and don'ts." They're wrong. Christianity is that and a whole lot more. That is, while our faith is more than a mere list of commands and prohibitions (there's also doctrine and relationship, for example), it is certainly not less than that. When a person like Mike bows the knee to Jesus Christ, he will find that there are lots and lots of things for him to do and not do. And we should not be afraid to tell him that. If you read the gospels, you will see that Jesus gave people do's and don'ts the very first day he met them. For example: "Follow me" (Matthew 4:19); "Stop sinning or something worse will happen to you" (John 5:14); "Go proclaim the kingdom of God" (Luke 10:60); "Sell everything you have and give it to the poor" (Luke 18:22); "Go and leave your life of sin" (John 8:11). Those are some pretty blatant do's and don'ts!
Here's a very short and incomplete list of biblical Do's if you want to be a Christian: Do believe in God (Hebrews 11:6); Do trust in Christ (John 14:1); Do take up your cross and follow Jesus (Mark 8:34); Do embrace the virtues of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). And here are some Don'ts: Don't be immoral, impure or greedy (Ephesians 5:4); Don't be a coward, murderer, idolator, or liar (Revelation 21:8); Don't engage in drunkenness, swindling, slander, adultery, or homosexual activity (1 Corinthians 6:9-10).
Despite the biblical abundance of commands and prohibitions, many teachers in the evangelical tradition seem to cast invisibility cloaks over them in the hope that they won't get in the way of anybody coming to Christ. Hence that terribly misleading "Do" verses "Done" rhetoric that Mike refers to in his complaint. Have you heard it? I have, and boy am I sick of it. It goes like this: "The difference between Religion and Christianity is that Religion is spelled D-O. I have to DO all these things to please God and get into heaven. But Christianity is spelled D-O-N-E. Christ has already DONE everything necessary to secure my salvation by living a perfect life and dying for my sins. I only have to receive his free gift!" The "DO verses DONE" illustration appears in Willow Creek's popular Becoming a Contagious Christian program and in a thousand other books and sermons too.
But please, please, just read the imperative-laden messages of Jesus and John the Baptist in the gospels, and of St. Peter and St. Paul in the book of Acts, and see if for one moment you can imagine any of them preaching that you don't have to do anything to please God because it's already been done for you! They would all face-palm themselves over the absurdity.
Imagine Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5, condemned to death for the sin of lying, protesting (with their last breaths), "But Peter, I thought you said that the difference between Religion and Christianity was that Religion insisted I DO things (like tell the truth) to please God, but Christianity says that's all been DONE for me by Christ!" Peter would respond "I never said no such thing."
Or imagine Simon the Sorcerer in Acts 8, peeved that Peter just told him to go hell after trying to buy the Holy Spirit, objecting, "But I thought this wasn't about works! I thought God accepted me just the way I am! Since when do I have to DO some good work (like revere the Holy Spirit) in order to please God? Gaining favor with God is something already DONE for me by Christ!" I could see Peter responding with the same words that Jesus once knocked him down with: "Get behind me, Satan" (Mark 8:33).
Thomas Jefferson once produced a New Testament with all miraculous elements literally scissored out of it. We know not to do that. But some of today's evangelicals, carried away by their own rhetoric, come close to cutting all the do's and don'ts out of the gospel. Stop it! Leave those commands and prohibitions in there just where Jesus and the apostles put them. They don't contradict grace. And if they bar people from coming to Christ, if they stop dead in their tracks people who "kind of like" Jesus but who hate to submit to him, then so be it. Jesus wants followers, not fans. Don't deceive the Mikes of this world by teaching, suggesting, or even hinting that there is nothing you have to do to be a Christian. That's not biblical.
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