#metoo—WWJD?

Imagine the original audience for the Sermon on the Mount. Now, picture a furrow-browed, intense young man (sorta like the rich young ruler) debating with Jesus...

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” ~ Jesus of Nazareth (Matthew. 5:27–29)

Gouging out an eye? To avoid lusting? Dang, Jesus, isn’t that just a little—you know—extreme?

And Jesus, I’m not trying to tell You how to do Your job—I mean, You being God ’n’ all—but couldn’t You throw in something a little more reasonable?

I have a few suggestions:

1. How about blame the woman for how she’s dressed?
2. Or maybe throw in a few words to the effect of: “Boys will be boys.”
3. Just say something—anything, really—that deflects the responsibility from us guys and put the blame ’n’ shame on someone else.

What’s that, Jesus? Yeah, I remember the story of Job—he’s one of our Old Testament heroes! What’s Job got to do with anything?

“I made a covenant with my eyes not to look lustfully at a young woman.” ~ Job (Job 31:1)

Is that all Job said, Jesus? Really? Nothing about how women are dressed, or . . .

Look, Jesus, I really don’t think You understand. Yeah, You bet I’m getting frustrated! What else do You expect, when You keep throwing all the responsibility back on us guys?

Who? Paul the Apostle? Never heard of him—wait, what do You mean by “spoiler alert?” What’s this Paul guy going to say?

“When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures...
“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control...
“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there.”

~ Paul the Apostle (Galatian. 5:19–25)

Okay, Jesus, I’ve tried to be patient, but You clearly have an anti-male bias. I’d like to get a second opinion, if You don’t mind.

Ask Lucifer? Great idea—where can I find him?

Happy Hour Library

Once upon a time, there was a young couple named Robby and Wendy. We were part of a larger circle of friends at college, went to classes and concerts together, and often hung out at a local greasy spoon enjoying French fries, “Highway 59 Burgers,” and coffee descended from a questionable bean-ealogy.

As our friendship grew into a “relationship,” we went on our first fancy date, where we wore fancy clothes and drank the fanciest wine we could afford without bankrupting our meager college funds (Mateus).

“Make sure you mention the part where I tripped and fell down the steps in my fancy dress, and the restaurant staff were panicking that I might sue,” Wendy says over my shoulder.

Okay, sweetheart, if you insist …

Another time, in the aforementioned greasy spoon, we sketched multiple designs on paper napkins as we imagined how we could convert a railway caboose into a livable space. (Maybe my bass amp could double as an end table?) The location wasn’t fancy, nor was Mateus involved, but it was fun dreaming together about our future.

As the years have come and gone, we’ve evolved a few traditions as a couple. For example: as the first one up most mornings, I brew and hand-deliver a cuppa java to my beautiful wife in bed. Note to any husbands reading: there are few wives who won’t appreciate this.

A more recent invention is what we call Happy Hour Library. We sit on our deck in the evening, sipping wine as we read whatever books have caught our fancy. Occasionally, we read a snippet out loud to each other, whenever we discover a thought-provoking question, an inspiring idea, or a particularly well-crafted paragraph.

A few weeks ago, Wendy brought home a bottle of Mateus, and Happy Hour Library became a time of reminiscing about our first “fancy date.” We’ve never lived in a converted caboose, but we’ve had a lot of adventures together. None of which we could have predicted — or dreamed — back in the “caboose brainstorming” days.


But now, it’s the “little adventures” I most appreciate: sharing coffee at 6:00 a.m., Happy Hour Library, and Mateus — while not our “go-to” wine of choice — held up surprisingly well, all these years later.


Crucible (Messy Revival)

“The crucible for silver and the furnace for gold, but the Lord tests the heart (Proverbs 17:3).”

Purify my heart, let me be as gold and precious silver.
Refiner’s fire – my heart’s one desire is to be holy,
Set apart for You, Lord, ready to do Your will.
(Refiner’s Fire, by Brian Doerksen)

The process of refining silver, in the era when the book of Proverbs was written, is an evocative picture of how our hearts are refined. It’s a “made for sermon illustration” metaphor that I really like. A skilled refiner purifies silver by bringing heat to bear on the raw metal. As the heat increases, impurities rise to the surface, and the refiner skims them off. The process is repeated until the desired result is achieved: a clear reflection of the refiner’s face.

The spiritual parallel is stunning – God refining our character until He sees a clear reflection of Jesus in us. Awesome! But as anyone who has experienced the refining process can tell you, when the heat gets turned up, it’s uncomfortable.

(That’s an understatement of, shall we say, “biblical proportions.”)

At the same time, achieving the desired result makes the uncomfortable process worth it in the end. “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it (Hebrews 12:11).”

Whenever we pray for more of the Spirit’s power and presence in our lives, it shouldn’t surprise us when the heat gets turned up and some of our inner schtuff flares up in our face. That’s how it works, after all.

More of the Spirit’s work = more refining. It’s part of the package. Mountain top moments are exhilarating, but difficult valleys are equally a part of the Spirit’s work in our lives.

Which is why things can get wild and woolly during times of revival. The Holy Spirit is poured out in ways that go beyond “typical” — the “omni” presence of God becomes the “manifest” presence – and there’s a wide range of reactions and maturity among believers.

Sin will be stirred up by the Enemy, trying his darndest to discredit what the Spirit’s doing. And critics of renewal movements delight in pointing this out, as if the presence of sinful activity “proves” that God isn’t involved.

Sin will also be stirred up by the Holy Spirit’s presence, so it can be dealt with. That’s what a good Refiner does.

Revival is always connected to repentance. Whether it’s people coming to faith for the first time, or believers having the low-burning embers of their faith fanned into flame again, repentance unto a holy life is normal.

There should be nothing shocking when sinful patterns are forced to the surface during times of revival/renewal. That’s how the Refiner’s fire works.

The heat is on.

If you’re crying out for more of the Spirit, and sin & temptation seem to flare up – don’t rebuke the devil (except where appropriate), and don’t get discouraged. Instead, recognize the Refiner’s hand and co-operate with His purifying work.

The heat is on, but the results will be worth it.

Of Pearls, Swine, & Strawmen

The Elder watched, eyebrows raised, as his young friend aggressively stirred the usual “fixings” into his americano.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen the Younger so agitated. His own hands were cupped around his mug of coffee—“black, the way God drinks it”—and he waited in silence.

The Younger replaced his spoon on the table with an exasperated sigh, the metal utensil evoking a sharp protest on the wooden surface. The Younger paused for a moment, suddenly self-aware of his agitation.

“Sorry about that,” he admitted to his life-long friend. “I’m just . . . really frustrated with how things went the other night.”

“I’m all ears,” the Elder replied, nodding to acknowledge the other’s apology. “How did the topic come up, if you don’t mind my asking? And what was it about your friends’ comments that impacted you so negatively?”

The Younger picked up his spoon, tapping it on the table, spinning it around in his fingers, and tapping the table again with the opposite end. The Elder chose not to point out his friend’s unconscious action.

“Well, you know me and my friends—we love talking about our faith, life, and how the two interact. It’s a lot like the conversations you and I have, at least most of the time. But last night . . .”

He flattened the spoon under his hand, and met the Elder’s concerned gaze. “You’ve heard of the notorious ‘straw man argument,’ I’m sure. It’s become its own meme, almost to the point of being a caricature of itself.”

The Elder nodded in sympathy, a rueful smile quirking at one corner of his mouth. “I’ve had a few run-ins with it, yes. I take it that a straw man was introduced into your conversation last night?”

The Younger shook his head, taking a hearty swig of his americano. “We were talking about the Atonement . . .”

The Elder whistled, his eyebrows arching higher. “The Atonement? You and your friends could never be accused of having shallow theological discussions.”

The Younger shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, we like the heavy topics, I guess. But as soon as I started talking about my understanding of the Atonement, I got shut down. They said that anyone who believes in substitutionary atonement believes in a God who’s a ‘cosmic child-abuser,’ and nobody with any intelligence would worship a ‘monster’ like that . . .”

The Elder sighed, sipping more of his coffee before it cooled. “Let me guess—the vengeful Old Testament God taking out His wrath on His unsuspecting and defenseless Son?”

The Younger nodded wordlessly, and the Elder continued. “Well, it wouldn’t be any exaggeration at all to call that terminology the most glaring and manipulative straw man fallacy I’ve ever come across.”

He took a longer gulp of his coffee, and set his mug down firmly. “To be blunt . . .” The Elder leaned forward to emphasize his next words.

”Using the phrase ‘cosmic child abuse’ is, at best, infantile. And at worst, it reveals an arrogant refusal to engage in the honest, intelligent exchange of ideas.”

The Younger finished his drink quietly, listening to his mentor/friend with rapt attention.

“Think about it this way,” the Elder kept his voice down despite his obvious passion for the subject at hand. “The most fruitful discussions—or dialogues, or debate—are characterized by both respectful dialogue and listening to each other’s viewpoints, and thoughtful interaction with the strengths and weaknesses of the opposing views. Iron sharpening iron (Proverbs 27:17).”

The Elder paused for a moment, adjusting his spectacles. “Such an obvious and calculated straw man as ‘cosmic child abuse’ circumvents any meaningful conversation. It’s actually a very anti-intellectual approach, which has but one goal in mind: to shut down discussion. To prevent thinking.”

“And here I just thought it was a bullying tactic,” the Younger joked, his lop-sided grin not very heart-felt.

The Elder leaned back, finishing off his coffee in one prolonged swallow. “It certainly is that, no doubt. But even more so: it shows a profound level of hubris—arrogance—to ignore the theological giants of the faith who have wrestled long and hard to put language to our beliefs, by using such a simplistic and offensive caricature.”

He sighed, returning his friend’s grin with one of his own. “I could make a comment about ‘pearls before swine,’ as Jesus did in Matthew 5:6—and His warning rings true in our time as much as it did in the first century. But I think there’s also a more redemptive approach that we should keep in mind.”

“Ask your friends: what Scriptures led them to their current position on the Atonement? We all understand there’s a certain level of—oh, I guess I would call it wrestling—which every theologian has to embrace. And I certainly hope your friends are basing their thoughts on Scripture and not merely on the latest philosophical trends. See if your friends would be willing to put aside their caricatures and invest some time in wrestling through the Scriptures together, as a group, and re-learn the lost art of respectful dialogue.”

The Younger held his empty mug aloft in a salute. “Having a respectful conversation? Wrestling through the Scriptures together? I’m all for it. I don’t even care if we all agree on everything, once we’re done. I’d just like to have a real, honest, strawman-free discussion about it!”

The Elder laughed quietly, his posture relaxing as a sheepish look crossed his face. “Just don’t tell them I called them ‘infantile’, okay? I really must learn to be more cautious in my choice of words ...”

Non-Confessional Movement

“Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.” (1 Timothy 4:16)

Some people don’t like doctrinal statements, viewing them as a tool of oppression and exclusion. They would much rather be “non-confessional.” (Meaning: doctrinal agreement is optional, as long as people play nice). 

Unfortunately, non-confessional movements usually end up looking like the picture above. 

What makes a doctrinal statement useful is its objectivity. It serves as an impartial standard, a measuring stick, a plumb-line by which all parties can evaluate their own doctrinal health.

There have been times, historically, when churches and movements have changed their minds and/or gradually wandered away from their core beliefs. The Old Testament also candidly records where God’s chosen people did the same thing—but it should be noted that the message of the prophets was to “turn back,” and in church history, terms like revival and renewal were linked to people “returning” to a faith they’d abandoned or allowed to atrophy. 

Throughout church history, statements like the Apostles' Creed, and the Nicene Creed (among others), have served in similar ways, providing a much-needed litmus test so that movements could obey the Scriptural admonition to safeguard the church from doctrinal “alternative facts.”

For example, St. Paul’s warnings and instructions:

• “I know that after I leave [Ephesus], savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them (Acts 20:29–30).”
  

• “As I urged you when I went into Macedonia, stay there in Ephesus so that you may command certain people not to teach false doctrines any longer (1 Timothy 1:3).”

• “For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear (2 Timothy 4:3).” 

A Statement of Faith is vital for straining out doctrinal error, and the New Testament is replete with admonitions to be on guard against false teachings. Paul was not the only one to sound the alarm. Similar warnings were voiced by John (1 John 4:1), Peter (2 Peter 2:1-3), and Jesus Himself (Matthew 24:10-11).

When a movement eschews a statement of faith, preferring instead to be non-confessional, they create an ethos where no teaching can be objectively evaluated, and where alternative (doctrinal) facts cannot be challenged.

However, something far more insidious results from a non-confessional approach, which inspired my choice of picture at the top of this post:

A non-confessional movement will always be controlled by the biggest bullies. It is inherently power-based and political in nature.

Without an objective standard, the direction of such a movement will rest in the hands of those with the most political power.

1. Appeals to Scripture or the history of Christian orthodoxy will fall on deaf ears. Alternative (doctrinal) facts can flourish freely.
2. Anyone with a confessional approach can then be effectively ridiculed and silenced, usually by caricatures, shout-downs, and zinger-ology.
3. Doctrinal questions and debates are settled by whomever can generate the loudest echo chamber, bolstered by “likes” and retweets.

No, thanks. I’ll take the confessional antidote Paul gave to Timothy:

“In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I give you this charge: Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction (2 Timothy 4:1–2).”