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.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Life Is A Risk (February 27, 2005)
I didn't know I was risking my life the other day when I heard the doorbell ring and answered it. It was just a couple Mormons. Harmless.
But according to "Dear Abby" (and many police departments), my answering the door was a foolish risk. Burglars knock on doors to gain easy access. Dear Abby's readers report cases of people getting beaten, raped, robbed and held at gunpoint when all they did was answer a knock at the door. Now they have learned from the tragic experiences of others, and one has posted a sign that reads, "Don't sell me anything, give me anything, leave me anything or offer me anything. If you don't know me or my family, don't knock on my door and don't bother us!" Abby responded to that letter-writer, "I'd say you've covered your bases."
I suppose you can keep yourself a little safer by scaring away strangers and locking yourself in. If I had a daughter who lived alone I guess I would tell her not to answer the door either. Caution is a good thing.
That is, it is a good thing up to a point. Past the point where prudence should fix it, caution is a tool of the devil to drain away the delights of community and fellowship, as well as the virtues of contentment, compassion and self-sacrifice. If you over-protect yourself, you not only become a basket-case but you lose opportunities to have fun and do good.
Some months ago I read about a politician (a governor, maybe) who decided to set a public health example by not shaking people's hands any more. Hands carry germs, you see. If we abolish hand-shaking we'll all get the sniffles less. Great, but in our ever-isolating culture do we really need another barrier to social intimacy? What's so bad about getting a cold? Call in sick, take some Nyquil and sleep it off. Really, how many of us are going to leave behind despairing widows and orphans trailing our hearses just because we caught meningitis from a handshake? Lighten up people. Life is a risk.
If it benefits others, then risking your health and safety is noble and sweet. In Philippians 2:30 St. Paul praises Epaphroditus, who "almost died for the work of Christ, risking his life to make up for the help you could not give me." Epaphroditus might have avoided near-fatal illness by staying home, but he valued more than life the good service he could render to Paul. In A. D. 254, the bishop of Carthage, Cyprian, organized the parabolani (literally, "risk-takers") of his congregation to bury the dead bodies of plague victims and nurse the stricken city's sick people back to health. It may be that some of those parabolani succumbed to plague themselves. But it was worth it, because they were credited with saving the city from destruction, and God was glorified.
Our fellowship group had a fascinating discussion the other night about what to do if you are walking along Lake Michigan and you see somebody struggling in the water. Do you jump in to save him? You're no life guard. It might end with double tragedy - he might thrash around and drown you!
To which I think the right Christian answer is, “So what?”
I didn't know I was risking my life the other day when I heard the doorbell ring and answered it. It was just a couple Mormons. Harmless.
But according to "Dear Abby" (and many police departments), my answering the door was a foolish risk. Burglars knock on doors to gain easy access. Dear Abby's readers report cases of people getting beaten, raped, robbed and held at gunpoint when all they did was answer a knock at the door. Now they have learned from the tragic experiences of others, and one has posted a sign that reads, "Don't sell me anything, give me anything, leave me anything or offer me anything. If you don't know me or my family, don't knock on my door and don't bother us!" Abby responded to that letter-writer, "I'd say you've covered your bases."
I suppose you can keep yourself a little safer by scaring away strangers and locking yourself in. If I had a daughter who lived alone I guess I would tell her not to answer the door either. Caution is a good thing.
That is, it is a good thing up to a point. Past the point where prudence should fix it, caution is a tool of the devil to drain away the delights of community and fellowship, as well as the virtues of contentment, compassion and self-sacrifice. If you over-protect yourself, you not only become a basket-case but you lose opportunities to have fun and do good.
Some months ago I read about a politician (a governor, maybe) who decided to set a public health example by not shaking people's hands any more. Hands carry germs, you see. If we abolish hand-shaking we'll all get the sniffles less. Great, but in our ever-isolating culture do we really need another barrier to social intimacy? What's so bad about getting a cold? Call in sick, take some Nyquil and sleep it off. Really, how many of us are going to leave behind despairing widows and orphans trailing our hearses just because we caught meningitis from a handshake? Lighten up people. Life is a risk.
If it benefits others, then risking your health and safety is noble and sweet. In Philippians 2:30 St. Paul praises Epaphroditus, who "almost died for the work of Christ, risking his life to make up for the help you could not give me." Epaphroditus might have avoided near-fatal illness by staying home, but he valued more than life the good service he could render to Paul. In A. D. 254, the bishop of Carthage, Cyprian, organized the parabolani (literally, "risk-takers") of his congregation to bury the dead bodies of plague victims and nurse the stricken city's sick people back to health. It may be that some of those parabolani succumbed to plague themselves. But it was worth it, because they were credited with saving the city from destruction, and God was glorified.
Our fellowship group had a fascinating discussion the other night about what to do if you are walking along Lake Michigan and you see somebody struggling in the water. Do you jump in to save him? You're no life guard. It might end with double tragedy - he might thrash around and drown you!
To which I think the right Christian answer is, “So what?”
Public Contempt For Biblical Convictions (February 20, 2005)
Former senatorial candidate Allan Keyes' daughter Maya recently announced that she is gay. In committing herself to homosexual behavior - without shame, confession, penitence or desire to change - she has rebelled against God. She has landed herself in the sinful chamber of horrors that St. Paul describes in Romans 1: "God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones...God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents" (Verses 26,30).
Has anyone in the media denounced this wayward daughter for defying God, holding her father in contempt and subjecting him to public ridicule? Not on your life. Rather, it is her father, a conservative Catholic Christian, who has been the target of withering scorn and “Bibliophobic” venom. In vain I’ve read the papers to see if there is an ounce of sympathy for the heartbroken man. There is none. Instead you will find headlines such as the one in Monday's Chicago Tribune, "Anti-gay bias hits home in the Keyes household." The father is the villain (for believing homosexual practice is wrong), and Maya is the courageous crusader for sexual dignity. Good and evil have been recast in opposite roles. It reminds me of missionary Donald Richardson's stunning revelation of an Indonesian tribe that regarded Judas as the hero of the crucifixion because of the crafty way he befriended Jesus before betraying him. In the media's glad reception of Maya and hateful denunciation of her father, the prodigal son story has been re-imagined. This time the son returns home with a bevy of prostitutes in tow and announces, "You are not worthy to be my father. I and all those who share my values are taking over, and we cast you away along with your hopelessly bigoted prejudice against loose living." Three cheers. Kill the fatted calf.
When I was in college my Sunday School teacher said that persecution comes to all devout Christians. Though he could quote Scripture on that (1 Timothy 3:12: "Everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted"), I frankly doubted that it applied to our culture. But now I am beginning to see the universality of persecution - though of course it comes with varying intensity. We don't have it so bad compared to most eras and cultures. But the world's general love for wickedness and contempt for God guarantees that sooner or later anyone who loves the Lord and takes a stand on Scripture will suffer for it. Be prepared for that, and don't be surprised. In the first century you could lose your life for saying, "Jesus is King"; in the 21st century you could (merely) lose your job
for saying, "Homosexual behavior is wrong." That day is coming, and may already be at hand. Don't back down. Loving the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and strength necessarily includes accepting the Bible's teaching on sexual morality. Do this even if your own family members turn on you as the world applauds their courage.
Former senatorial candidate Allan Keyes' daughter Maya recently announced that she is gay. In committing herself to homosexual behavior - without shame, confession, penitence or desire to change - she has rebelled against God. She has landed herself in the sinful chamber of horrors that St. Paul describes in Romans 1: "God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones...God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents" (Verses 26,30).
Has anyone in the media denounced this wayward daughter for defying God, holding her father in contempt and subjecting him to public ridicule? Not on your life. Rather, it is her father, a conservative Catholic Christian, who has been the target of withering scorn and “Bibliophobic” venom. In vain I’ve read the papers to see if there is an ounce of sympathy for the heartbroken man. There is none. Instead you will find headlines such as the one in Monday's Chicago Tribune, "Anti-gay bias hits home in the Keyes household." The father is the villain (for believing homosexual practice is wrong), and Maya is the courageous crusader for sexual dignity. Good and evil have been recast in opposite roles. It reminds me of missionary Donald Richardson's stunning revelation of an Indonesian tribe that regarded Judas as the hero of the crucifixion because of the crafty way he befriended Jesus before betraying him. In the media's glad reception of Maya and hateful denunciation of her father, the prodigal son story has been re-imagined. This time the son returns home with a bevy of prostitutes in tow and announces, "You are not worthy to be my father. I and all those who share my values are taking over, and we cast you away along with your hopelessly bigoted prejudice against loose living." Three cheers. Kill the fatted calf.
When I was in college my Sunday School teacher said that persecution comes to all devout Christians. Though he could quote Scripture on that (1 Timothy 3:12: "Everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted"), I frankly doubted that it applied to our culture. But now I am beginning to see the universality of persecution - though of course it comes with varying intensity. We don't have it so bad compared to most eras and cultures. But the world's general love for wickedness and contempt for God guarantees that sooner or later anyone who loves the Lord and takes a stand on Scripture will suffer for it. Be prepared for that, and don't be surprised. In the first century you could lose your life for saying, "Jesus is King"; in the 21st century you could (merely) lose your job
for saying, "Homosexual behavior is wrong." That day is coming, and may already be at hand. Don't back down. Loving the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and strength necessarily includes accepting the Bible's teaching on sexual morality. Do this even if your own family members turn on you as the world applauds their courage.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
The Sinner’s Prayer And Baptism (February 13, 2005)
Have you ever heard an invitation to say a prayer to receive Jesus as your Savior and Lord?
Sure you have. Pick up any gospel tract and you will find a "sinner's prayer" at the end of it. Go to a Billy Graham crusade and it will culminate with a model prayer to mark your decision to follow Christ. Examine the curriculum of any evangelistic program ("Evangelism Explosion", "The Four Spiritual Laws") and there will be a prayer to get saved. Get the videos for Bill Hybels' Becoming a Contagious Christian or Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Life and you will hear more prayers to receive Jesus. These invitations are absolutely everywhere in the land of evangelical Christianity.
But they are not in the Bible. I know. I looked. If you don't believe me, spend some time studying the passages below, where I list every conversion in the book of Acts. In not a one of them will you find that the saved person ever says a prayer when he becomes a believer. Maybe some of them did in fact pray, but the text never records that. Nor do the apostles or preachers ever tell them to pray to receive Jesus. Here's the list:
Acts 2:38-41
Acts 4:4
Acts 5:14
Acts 6:7
Acts 8:12-13
Acts 8:36-38
Acts 9:17-18
Acts 9:35
Acts 9:42
Acts 10:44-48
Acts 11:21
Acts 13:12
Acts 13:48
Acts 14:21
Acts 16:14-15
Acts 16:33-34
Acts 17:4
Acts 17:12
Acts 17:34
Acts 18:8
Acts 19:4-5
What you will find in the biblical preaching of the gospel is a call to (1) repent, (2) believe, and (3) be baptized. You can do all of these without saying a prayer! Don't get me wrong - prayer is good, I like prayer, I have nothing against signaling your conversion to Christ with a prayer. I am merely pointing out that this practice is nowhere to be found in the Bible. It comes from evangelical tradition, not the Word.
What bothers me in today's standard Christian evangelism procedures is that the "prayer to receive Christ" has become a substitute for baptism - an unsanctioned alternative to the one true biblical way to mark conversion. Peter said, "Repent and be baptized" (Acts 2:38), not, "Repent and say these words after me." Now repentance involves one's behavior over time, and belief involves internal adjustment to one's convictions - but the specific act that flags our entrance into a new life with Christ is always baptism. In the Bible, new believers get baptized in a flash, within moments of their coming to faith. It
is never a social event. They don't wait for Sunday. They don't wait for a worship service. The baptizers do not take time to find out first how sincere their converts are (see Simon in Acts 8:13-23). People get baptized in the middle of the night (Acts 16:33 ), by the side of the road (Acts 8:36-38), or before they break a three-day fast (Acts 9:18-19). Often the only ones present are the baptizer and the baptizee. (Spectators are strictly incidental.) In short, people get baptized precisely under those spontaneous and abrupt conditions in which we are accustomed to have people say prayers to receive Jesus into their hearts.
It is simple. We “pray to receive Christ”; they got baptized. One of my pastoral burdens in life is to nudge people into biblically correct practice regarding this matter of how to express conversion, so that they will know exactly what it is they are supposed to do when they get saved. They’re supposed to get baptized.
Have you ever heard an invitation to say a prayer to receive Jesus as your Savior and Lord?
Sure you have. Pick up any gospel tract and you will find a "sinner's prayer" at the end of it. Go to a Billy Graham crusade and it will culminate with a model prayer to mark your decision to follow Christ. Examine the curriculum of any evangelistic program ("Evangelism Explosion", "The Four Spiritual Laws") and there will be a prayer to get saved. Get the videos for Bill Hybels' Becoming a Contagious Christian or Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Life and you will hear more prayers to receive Jesus. These invitations are absolutely everywhere in the land of evangelical Christianity.
But they are not in the Bible. I know. I looked. If you don't believe me, spend some time studying the passages below, where I list every conversion in the book of Acts. In not a one of them will you find that the saved person ever says a prayer when he becomes a believer. Maybe some of them did in fact pray, but the text never records that. Nor do the apostles or preachers ever tell them to pray to receive Jesus. Here's the list:
Acts 2:38-41
Acts 4:4
Acts 5:14
Acts 6:7
Acts 8:12-13
Acts 8:36-38
Acts 9:17-18
Acts 9:35
Acts 9:42
Acts 10:44-48
Acts 11:21
Acts 13:12
Acts 13:48
Acts 14:21
Acts 16:14-15
Acts 16:33-34
Acts 17:4
Acts 17:12
Acts 17:34
Acts 18:8
Acts 19:4-5
What you will find in the biblical preaching of the gospel is a call to (1) repent, (2) believe, and (3) be baptized. You can do all of these without saying a prayer! Don't get me wrong - prayer is good, I like prayer, I have nothing against signaling your conversion to Christ with a prayer. I am merely pointing out that this practice is nowhere to be found in the Bible. It comes from evangelical tradition, not the Word.
What bothers me in today's standard Christian evangelism procedures is that the "prayer to receive Christ" has become a substitute for baptism - an unsanctioned alternative to the one true biblical way to mark conversion. Peter said, "Repent and be baptized" (Acts 2:38), not, "Repent and say these words after me." Now repentance involves one's behavior over time, and belief involves internal adjustment to one's convictions - but the specific act that flags our entrance into a new life with Christ is always baptism. In the Bible, new believers get baptized in a flash, within moments of their coming to faith. It
is never a social event. They don't wait for Sunday. They don't wait for a worship service. The baptizers do not take time to find out first how sincere their converts are (see Simon in Acts 8:13-23). People get baptized in the middle of the night (Acts 16:33 ), by the side of the road (Acts 8:36-38), or before they break a three-day fast (Acts 9:18-19). Often the only ones present are the baptizer and the baptizee. (Spectators are strictly incidental.) In short, people get baptized precisely under those spontaneous and abrupt conditions in which we are accustomed to have people say prayers to receive Jesus into their hearts.
It is simple. We “pray to receive Christ”; they got baptized. One of my pastoral burdens in life is to nudge people into biblically correct practice regarding this matter of how to express conversion, so that they will know exactly what it is they are supposed to do when they get saved. They’re supposed to get baptized.
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