Romans 1:18-32
Do you have a favorite verse or passage in the Bible? Most Christians can cite a favorite passage, perhaps one that was significant for you in your faith or helped sustain you in times of turmoil. Whatever the reason, many of us frequently return to a verse or passage which brings great peace and comfort to us.
Do you have a least favorite verse or passage in the Bible? I do, and this next section is one of my least favorite. It would be fine and inoffensive if I merely chose to ignore or not believe it. However, contextually it is consistent and fits with the larger scope and narrative of Romans, so I must believe that it is included here for a reason. It doesn’t mean I have to like it. But it also gives me no license to dismiss it because I don’t like what it says.
There is an awful lot revealed in this passage, and some of it is controversial. Believe it or not, I’m not going to address much of it. In fact, I’m not going to dwell on most of the passage. The reason is that there is one small but significant revelation regarding God’s wrath that Paul shares. I have not been able to shake its implications since teaching it.
Paul shares that the righteousness of God is being revealed. Its revelation is necessary because of humanity’s corruption and our inability to save ourselves. It is experienced only by faith because God’s righteousness, or our salvation, is a free gift which cannot be earned or merited. Paul immediately transitions from God’s righteousness to God’s wrath. On the surface it can be an awkward shift, changing from what humanity desires to the very attribute of God which we fear and dread (or dismiss). However, one of the central points that Paul is making concerns the presence of God. It is the common attribute that links righteousness and wrath.
The righteousness of God, or our justification, concerns not only our eternal salvation, but also the eternal and everlasting presence of God, both in this life and in the life to come. The wrath of God, or judgment, involves the eternal and everlasting absence of the presence of God.
As a Christian, I believe that God is present and active. I believe He is actively seeking out those who respond to His invitation to respond to Jesus in faith as their Lord and Savior. I also believe that the gifts of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ aren’t only experienced in the afterlife but rather the moment Christ enters into our hearts and dwells within us, His Temple. That’s how big my God is.
Most Christians would not find such sentiments offensive. They would find this to be both consistent with Scripture and also an attractive gospel message. However, this section of Romans focuses on God’s present and future activity not in justifying people but also in dispersing His wrath, both in the present and in the future.
It’s not an attractive truth of Scripture. It generally is not one of the key points we share with non-Christians in regards to our personal faith. To put it bluntly, it’s a tough pill to swallow. But it is consistent with God’s presence and activity. We believe God is activity saving people. Can we also handle that God is also actively judging humanity it this present time?
Perhaps one of the difficulties in thinking that God is dispersing judgment upon people today is our visual depiction of God’s wrath. We envision God smiting rebellious and disobedient people, perhaps something akin to the wrath that Pharaoh and the Egyptians incurred at the Red Sea. We think of God’s wrath as something supernatural and grand (in other words, something that could only be attributed to God). Or perhaps our difficulty lies in the fact that we all witness evil and inhumanity transgressed against others that seem to go unpunished. We see evil dictators flourish and corrupt businesses succeed while average decent people suffer or pay the price. Maybe our difficulty lies in thinking God isn’t punishing the right people.
I don’t have issues with the wrath of God. There is ample evidence found in the entire Bible (especially in the Old Testament) that it’s hard to deny that it is one of the attributes of God. To me, this passage shakes me because of how it describes God’s wrath being revealed. The scary part of this entire passage is that God’s wrath is veiled in an understated format. The passage states that there are those who do not acknowledge or want God in their lives. Consequently, God may actually grant to them their desire, and remove Himself from their presence, thus removing God’s providence from their lives. That is God’s wrath. That is His judgment, and a costly one at that. How scary is that.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Mr. Mom Week Conclusion: The Power of God & The Power of Siblings
Well, it’s been one week since I did the Mr. Mom thing. I hope everyone had a blessed Christmas celebration.
Also, before I conclude my Mr. Mom series, I must apologize for the number of grammatical errors. In all honesty, I probably spend around one hour on each post, so proofreading and revisions often don’t happen. I appreciate that the two people reading my blog do not harp on how poorly I write or articulate my thoughts.
[and now onto the final Mr. Mom post]
It’s actually rare that I see my family. All my family, with the exception of one sister, lives in Washington State. The lone exception lives next door in Idaho with her family. I am the black sheep, living as far away as I do. And rarely do I get to attend obligatory family functions.
However, every couple of years my family and I make the cross-country flight from North Carolina to the Pacific Northwest. And invariably, at some point one of my siblings (usually my oldest sister, although my other older sister may on occasion be guilty) will say something along the lines of, “well what’d you expect, it’s Jonathan!”
Funny thing, though – my siblings don’t know me that well (and visa versa). The last time I spent at least one entire week with any of my siblings was probably the eighth or ninth grade. In other words, I have not spent significant time with any of them over the past sixteen or seventeen years. The last time I went on vacation with any of them was the seventh grade, and that was only with my brother.
So when I say or do something which automatically evokes the response, “well what’d you expect, it’s Jonathan”, I have to assume the connection they are making is to the child they knew and grew up observing. Have I really changed all that little after all these years?
So I got the privilege of spending four consecutive days with my two daughters – feeding them, playing with them, observing them playing with each other, lecturing them, disciplining them, and in the case of the oldest, getting kicked in the back all night as she hogged “my” bed that I graciously allowed her to crash while her mommy was away. I got to observe the dynamics of their relationship. I witnessed both their generosity toward each other, and how each has deciphered how to push each others’ buttons. I watched them both ask and receive forgiveness from each other. Oh, and I changed EVERY POOPY DIAPER.
As I watched my girls love, hate, and reconcile with each other over the course of four days, a part of me wondered how the dynamics of their relationship will or will not change as they grow up. Will the things that get under their skin still work five, ten, or twenty years from now? I know it is too early to even remotely predict how their personalities and temperaments will solidify, but I do wonder. Obviously, some of what they already exhibit at this early age will remain a part of them long after their childhood fades. I’m just wondering what will fade away and what is going to be a lifelong attribute.
Apparently there is still much about me that was present as a child. I’m pretty sure my sisters’ comments and remarks were related to my sarcasm or my “speak first, think tomorrow” mentality. That or when in doubt, “make them laugh”.
The relationship between siblings is a powerful one. They can be your best friend. They can be your worse critic. They can be your lifelong counselor. They can be the person you are compared to in both the best and worse of ways. They can evoke jealousy, envy competition, rage, grudges, etc, etc, etc. Some of the most powerful stories in the Bible involve the dynamics of siblings (Cain & Abel, Joseph & his brothers, Mary, Martha, & Lazarus).
My siblings and I have a unique relationship. On the one hand, we fought an awful lot as children. On the other hand, we had a difficult childhood with the divorce and our family pretty much living under the poverty line. I knew I had a lot of anger that needed to be processed and released while growing up – confronting all of the circumstances of my childhood which I had no control over but greatly impacted my life and family.
We had to rely on each other. But more than that, we all learned pretty early in life to be self-reliant. Our mother, who sometimes was juggling three jobs, needed us to be able to cook our own meals, wash our own clothes, and motivate ourselves to do our homework in the event she was not around. I remember as early as the fourth grade I would come home from school and be alone for a couple of hours before anyone else would arrive. That’s just how things were. Consequently, I go months at a time without speaking to my mother or siblings. I can go years without speaking to my father. I’m not saying it’s a good thing. I’m just saying that I’m pretty sure it’s a byproduct of growing up in a self-reliant environment.
I was the youngest, the brattiest, and the loudest of my four siblings. Truth be told, I understood the least of all my siblings what my parents’ divorce entailed. All I knew was that it was changing my whole life. I’m sure I wasn’t too pleasant to be around. I know I didn’t enjoy being around my sisters. My brother and I were best friends and comrades in arms up to that point. That all changed when my parents divorced. My brother decided to live with my dad. I decided to live with my mom. I use “decided” very deliberately, because my brother had to get up in court and proclaim his desire to live with my father. It was the worst of times to be a child.
In all honesty, I don’t know how my relationships with my sisters might have looked like as adults if it weren’t for one major factor – our Christian faith. You see, both my oldest sister and I came to Christ long after my parents’ divorce. I received Christ my junior year of high school. My oldest sister received Christ I believe at the age of twenty-four, at my baptism. After I gave my public testimony, she gave her life to Christ, with a proclamation that went something along the lines of, “If a jerk like you can be changed, then there must be a God.” Close to nine years later, I officiated over her wedding ceremony.
All of my siblings and I are Christians and married Christians. Although we belonged to and attended regularly a church growing up, only my older (not oldest) sister really engaged and participated in the life of the church during her teen years. Christ was not the center of our lives, and certainly not a factor in how we treated each other (many siblings who are Christians may admit the same). But Christ is the center of our families, our relationships, and now our lives. In many ways, the characteristics of how we interacted as a family before Christ are no longer visible. We, both as individuals and as a family, are new creations in Christ.
To me, that is the wildcard in all of this hypothetical forecasting. Will both my daughters accept Christ at some point in their lives? Will only one of the two become a believer? Or will neither have a personal relationship with Jesus? In my estimation, the power of Christ in one’s life changes everything.
I’ve witnessed the complications of relationships between siblings when one or both are not living for Christ. Without that center, what you essentially have are people who in the end are the center of their own lives or don’t connect or relate to a sibling who is living for Christ. In my case, faith can be a uniting element which brings a family together in ways which fulfills God’s design for family. For others, the absence of faith and Christian devotion in one or all the siblings can complicate or aggravate the dynamics of the relationship. It may sound trite to some, but I do believe the power of the risen Christ can overcome any obstacle or reconcile any relationship broken by past hurts or wrongs.
It sure would bring me immense joy if my daughter grew up and were close friends, even best friends. But what I really yearn for is for them to know Christ in a deep, personal, and intimate manner. Hopefully, if that’s the case, the rest will work itself out in God’s timing. It may sound trite, but hey, a parent can hope and pray, right?
Oh yeah, and Happy New Years!
Also, before I conclude my Mr. Mom series, I must apologize for the number of grammatical errors. In all honesty, I probably spend around one hour on each post, so proofreading and revisions often don’t happen. I appreciate that the two people reading my blog do not harp on how poorly I write or articulate my thoughts.
[and now onto the final Mr. Mom post]
It’s actually rare that I see my family. All my family, with the exception of one sister, lives in Washington State. The lone exception lives next door in Idaho with her family. I am the black sheep, living as far away as I do. And rarely do I get to attend obligatory family functions.
However, every couple of years my family and I make the cross-country flight from North Carolina to the Pacific Northwest. And invariably, at some point one of my siblings (usually my oldest sister, although my other older sister may on occasion be guilty) will say something along the lines of, “well what’d you expect, it’s Jonathan!”
Funny thing, though – my siblings don’t know me that well (and visa versa). The last time I spent at least one entire week with any of my siblings was probably the eighth or ninth grade. In other words, I have not spent significant time with any of them over the past sixteen or seventeen years. The last time I went on vacation with any of them was the seventh grade, and that was only with my brother.
So when I say or do something which automatically evokes the response, “well what’d you expect, it’s Jonathan”, I have to assume the connection they are making is to the child they knew and grew up observing. Have I really changed all that little after all these years?
So I got the privilege of spending four consecutive days with my two daughters – feeding them, playing with them, observing them playing with each other, lecturing them, disciplining them, and in the case of the oldest, getting kicked in the back all night as she hogged “my” bed that I graciously allowed her to crash while her mommy was away. I got to observe the dynamics of their relationship. I witnessed both their generosity toward each other, and how each has deciphered how to push each others’ buttons. I watched them both ask and receive forgiveness from each other. Oh, and I changed EVERY POOPY DIAPER.
As I watched my girls love, hate, and reconcile with each other over the course of four days, a part of me wondered how the dynamics of their relationship will or will not change as they grow up. Will the things that get under their skin still work five, ten, or twenty years from now? I know it is too early to even remotely predict how their personalities and temperaments will solidify, but I do wonder. Obviously, some of what they already exhibit at this early age will remain a part of them long after their childhood fades. I’m just wondering what will fade away and what is going to be a lifelong attribute.
Apparently there is still much about me that was present as a child. I’m pretty sure my sisters’ comments and remarks were related to my sarcasm or my “speak first, think tomorrow” mentality. That or when in doubt, “make them laugh”.
The relationship between siblings is a powerful one. They can be your best friend. They can be your worse critic. They can be your lifelong counselor. They can be the person you are compared to in both the best and worse of ways. They can evoke jealousy, envy competition, rage, grudges, etc, etc, etc. Some of the most powerful stories in the Bible involve the dynamics of siblings (Cain & Abel, Joseph & his brothers, Mary, Martha, & Lazarus).
My siblings and I have a unique relationship. On the one hand, we fought an awful lot as children. On the other hand, we had a difficult childhood with the divorce and our family pretty much living under the poverty line. I knew I had a lot of anger that needed to be processed and released while growing up – confronting all of the circumstances of my childhood which I had no control over but greatly impacted my life and family.
We had to rely on each other. But more than that, we all learned pretty early in life to be self-reliant. Our mother, who sometimes was juggling three jobs, needed us to be able to cook our own meals, wash our own clothes, and motivate ourselves to do our homework in the event she was not around. I remember as early as the fourth grade I would come home from school and be alone for a couple of hours before anyone else would arrive. That’s just how things were. Consequently, I go months at a time without speaking to my mother or siblings. I can go years without speaking to my father. I’m not saying it’s a good thing. I’m just saying that I’m pretty sure it’s a byproduct of growing up in a self-reliant environment.
I was the youngest, the brattiest, and the loudest of my four siblings. Truth be told, I understood the least of all my siblings what my parents’ divorce entailed. All I knew was that it was changing my whole life. I’m sure I wasn’t too pleasant to be around. I know I didn’t enjoy being around my sisters. My brother and I were best friends and comrades in arms up to that point. That all changed when my parents divorced. My brother decided to live with my dad. I decided to live with my mom. I use “decided” very deliberately, because my brother had to get up in court and proclaim his desire to live with my father. It was the worst of times to be a child.
In all honesty, I don’t know how my relationships with my sisters might have looked like as adults if it weren’t for one major factor – our Christian faith. You see, both my oldest sister and I came to Christ long after my parents’ divorce. I received Christ my junior year of high school. My oldest sister received Christ I believe at the age of twenty-four, at my baptism. After I gave my public testimony, she gave her life to Christ, with a proclamation that went something along the lines of, “If a jerk like you can be changed, then there must be a God.” Close to nine years later, I officiated over her wedding ceremony.
All of my siblings and I are Christians and married Christians. Although we belonged to and attended regularly a church growing up, only my older (not oldest) sister really engaged and participated in the life of the church during her teen years. Christ was not the center of our lives, and certainly not a factor in how we treated each other (many siblings who are Christians may admit the same). But Christ is the center of our families, our relationships, and now our lives. In many ways, the characteristics of how we interacted as a family before Christ are no longer visible. We, both as individuals and as a family, are new creations in Christ.
To me, that is the wildcard in all of this hypothetical forecasting. Will both my daughters accept Christ at some point in their lives? Will only one of the two become a believer? Or will neither have a personal relationship with Jesus? In my estimation, the power of Christ in one’s life changes everything.
I’ve witnessed the complications of relationships between siblings when one or both are not living for Christ. Without that center, what you essentially have are people who in the end are the center of their own lives or don’t connect or relate to a sibling who is living for Christ. In my case, faith can be a uniting element which brings a family together in ways which fulfills God’s design for family. For others, the absence of faith and Christian devotion in one or all the siblings can complicate or aggravate the dynamics of the relationship. It may sound trite to some, but I do believe the power of the risen Christ can overcome any obstacle or reconcile any relationship broken by past hurts or wrongs.
It sure would bring me immense joy if my daughter grew up and were close friends, even best friends. But what I really yearn for is for them to know Christ in a deep, personal, and intimate manner. Hopefully, if that’s the case, the rest will work itself out in God’s timing. It may sound trite, but hey, a parent can hope and pray, right?
Oh yeah, and Happy New Years!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Mr. Mom Week: Part 3 – “Laugh & the whole world laughs with you. Cry, & I’ll give you something to cry about!!!”
It was bound to happen. I mean, they’re pretty much going to be in each other’s company for four days (you could say in each other’s face). I had warned them, warned them again, and then even gave them practical steps to avoid getting in trouble (i.e., move away from the sibling, move away from the chair, and move away from the stuffed animal). In the end, there was shouting, whining, tattle-tailing, and even physical confrontation.
I have to admit, I haven’t read many parenting books. I tried reading a few when the oldest was on her way, but it was all theory-based and detached. It was all future-based and hypothetical. I knew my world was going to be turned upside-down. I didn’t need to read 200 pages telling me that my world was going to be turned upside-down. I always meant to read more parenting books after the kids came, but really, who has time, especially if you’re reading 10-15 other books for seminary at that period of time. So I don’t know what parenting experts think about what I’m going to share next.
I don’t necessarily like to scare my children, but when they disobey me and discipline is-a-coming, I want them to know it’s-a-coming – I want there to be no shadow of doubt in their eyes that they just tested fate and lost. I don’t mind being a little dramatic, I don’t mind raising my voice, and I certainly think I’m doing something wrong if there aren’t a few tears shed on their part. It’s a delicate balancing act. I don’t want my children to fear me, but I want them to understand that there are consequences for their disobedience. I want them to know that grace is not the only godly attribute afforded parents. Discipline and correction also come from God.
So there they were, both startled when I raised my voice to biblical proportions (I generally like to think of my “discipline voice” to be akin to Jesus’ voice when cleansing the temple or calming the sea; translation – godly gravitas). I then proceeded to physically pick them up, transport them into their rooms, and closed their doors. They were already crying by then, but the door closing elevated their weeping toward wailing. I wished my children didn’t need disciplining, but I didn’t feel the slightest regret in doing so. They had been warned. They choose to disobey what they knew to be wrong. And now they had to pay the piper.
In both immediate terms and in the long run, my children should be the better for such intentional parenting and understanding the cause-effect nature of rebellion in the face of their father. While both were extremely dissatisfied with the results, there really was nothing they could do about it. I am their father. They answer to me. Step out of line and it’s my responsibility. I take that responsibility very seriously. They understand and accept it (even if they don’t like it – what, are they going to try a coup-de-ta?).
It’s universally accepted that involved parenting increases the chances of “normal” and “stable” children and eventually “normal” and “stable” adults. I believe one of the chief reasons for this is because children with present, active, and involved parents are accountable to authority figures in their lives. I have, from time to time, thought about Jesus’ statement in Matthew 18:3-4, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” The first impression I have of this passage is that Jesus is imploring us to have the simplistic trust that children can have in all matters, believing and trusting those above them. But lately I’ve also had this reoccurring thought and it’s really been a conviction of my own heart. I wonder if Jesus was exploring how children are also accountable to others above them here on earth and they receive instruction, discipline, and guidance better than the average adult accepts them.
If you’re an adult, here the question: “Who do you answer to?” If you’re a Christian, I know the first answer is “God, and Jesus”. Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m more concerned with both accountability and rebuke on a day-to-day basis. So I’ll rephrase the question differently: “When you are wrong, or living in ungodly manners, who has permission in your life to call you on it?” Who are you accountable to? Now, from a vocational angle, I am accountable to many people. But who has license to rebuke me when they notice I am not living in a godly manner, when my marriage is not exhibiting godly characteristics, when my parenting is missing the mark? Who has that right? I’m floored by the fact that I really have no one in my life that has that task, responsibility, or privilege. Do you?
With that in mind, I must also make one side remark. My wife is my best friend, but they generally make lousy accountability partners. For one thing, it limits the relationships you have where you open yourself up to scrutiny and answerability. But the real reason is that, at least for me, I don’t take instruction or criticism well from my wife. Luckily, I’m the only living person with this problem, so you’re probably better off than me.
Who has free reign in your life to “parent” you when you are acting like a “child”? It’s funny, but I’ve notice a trait in many adults, which is the only person who can inform them when they’re wrong is themselves. We’ve replaced accountability to another with self-actualization. We’re only wrong when we ourselves recognize we’re wrong. And we’ll only change once we’ve told ourselves we aren’t living right. And no one else gets to call us on it.
Imagine if we trusted our children to mature and grow primarily through “self-actualization, empowerment, and ownership”. I must admit, those terms were pretty significant in my youth ministry philosophy, because most teens do not respond to any devotion or message until they personalize and internalize it. But that doesn’t necessarily make it right. In fact, aren’t the teenage years some of the most boundary-pushing, rebellious years of someone’s life?
Are we as adults teachable? A part of being teachable is receiving instruction and constructive criticism. In all honesty, I need to develop intentional relationships where I give authority to others to speak up when they recognize sin and error in my life. I cannot pin my spiritual growth and development on my own self-actualization. At this very moment, I wonder if much of my spiritual immaturity is a reflection on how little license I’ve given others to join me on this journey or sanctification. What do you think?
I have to admit, I haven’t read many parenting books. I tried reading a few when the oldest was on her way, but it was all theory-based and detached. It was all future-based and hypothetical. I knew my world was going to be turned upside-down. I didn’t need to read 200 pages telling me that my world was going to be turned upside-down. I always meant to read more parenting books after the kids came, but really, who has time, especially if you’re reading 10-15 other books for seminary at that period of time. So I don’t know what parenting experts think about what I’m going to share next.
I don’t necessarily like to scare my children, but when they disobey me and discipline is-a-coming, I want them to know it’s-a-coming – I want there to be no shadow of doubt in their eyes that they just tested fate and lost. I don’t mind being a little dramatic, I don’t mind raising my voice, and I certainly think I’m doing something wrong if there aren’t a few tears shed on their part. It’s a delicate balancing act. I don’t want my children to fear me, but I want them to understand that there are consequences for their disobedience. I want them to know that grace is not the only godly attribute afforded parents. Discipline and correction also come from God.
So there they were, both startled when I raised my voice to biblical proportions (I generally like to think of my “discipline voice” to be akin to Jesus’ voice when cleansing the temple or calming the sea; translation – godly gravitas). I then proceeded to physically pick them up, transport them into their rooms, and closed their doors. They were already crying by then, but the door closing elevated their weeping toward wailing. I wished my children didn’t need disciplining, but I didn’t feel the slightest regret in doing so. They had been warned. They choose to disobey what they knew to be wrong. And now they had to pay the piper.
In both immediate terms and in the long run, my children should be the better for such intentional parenting and understanding the cause-effect nature of rebellion in the face of their father. While both were extremely dissatisfied with the results, there really was nothing they could do about it. I am their father. They answer to me. Step out of line and it’s my responsibility. I take that responsibility very seriously. They understand and accept it (even if they don’t like it – what, are they going to try a coup-de-ta?).
It’s universally accepted that involved parenting increases the chances of “normal” and “stable” children and eventually “normal” and “stable” adults. I believe one of the chief reasons for this is because children with present, active, and involved parents are accountable to authority figures in their lives. I have, from time to time, thought about Jesus’ statement in Matthew 18:3-4, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” The first impression I have of this passage is that Jesus is imploring us to have the simplistic trust that children can have in all matters, believing and trusting those above them. But lately I’ve also had this reoccurring thought and it’s really been a conviction of my own heart. I wonder if Jesus was exploring how children are also accountable to others above them here on earth and they receive instruction, discipline, and guidance better than the average adult accepts them.
If you’re an adult, here the question: “Who do you answer to?” If you’re a Christian, I know the first answer is “God, and Jesus”. Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m more concerned with both accountability and rebuke on a day-to-day basis. So I’ll rephrase the question differently: “When you are wrong, or living in ungodly manners, who has permission in your life to call you on it?” Who are you accountable to? Now, from a vocational angle, I am accountable to many people. But who has license to rebuke me when they notice I am not living in a godly manner, when my marriage is not exhibiting godly characteristics, when my parenting is missing the mark? Who has that right? I’m floored by the fact that I really have no one in my life that has that task, responsibility, or privilege. Do you?
With that in mind, I must also make one side remark. My wife is my best friend, but they generally make lousy accountability partners. For one thing, it limits the relationships you have where you open yourself up to scrutiny and answerability. But the real reason is that, at least for me, I don’t take instruction or criticism well from my wife. Luckily, I’m the only living person with this problem, so you’re probably better off than me.
Who has free reign in your life to “parent” you when you are acting like a “child”? It’s funny, but I’ve notice a trait in many adults, which is the only person who can inform them when they’re wrong is themselves. We’ve replaced accountability to another with self-actualization. We’re only wrong when we ourselves recognize we’re wrong. And we’ll only change once we’ve told ourselves we aren’t living right. And no one else gets to call us on it.
Imagine if we trusted our children to mature and grow primarily through “self-actualization, empowerment, and ownership”. I must admit, those terms were pretty significant in my youth ministry philosophy, because most teens do not respond to any devotion or message until they personalize and internalize it. But that doesn’t necessarily make it right. In fact, aren’t the teenage years some of the most boundary-pushing, rebellious years of someone’s life?
Are we as adults teachable? A part of being teachable is receiving instruction and constructive criticism. In all honesty, I need to develop intentional relationships where I give authority to others to speak up when they recognize sin and error in my life. I cannot pin my spiritual growth and development on my own self-actualization. At this very moment, I wonder if much of my spiritual immaturity is a reflection on how little license I’ve given others to join me on this journey or sanctification. What do you think?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Mr. Mom Week: Part 2 – My Child, the SINNER!!!
Well, the day is only half-over, but I have a moment to write some thoughts before Robin wakes up from her nap. I have an “outing” or “activity” scheduled each day for the girls to get excited about and also to use as leverage when listening skills and their ability to obey deteriorates. Today, our “outing” was to go to the mall and shop for Christmas presents for their mommy and nina. The trip went as well as I expected.
Recently at work, I got into a lively discussion with a couple of friends over the topic of total depravity (I am a staunch believer in total depravity). Reflecting on the conversation, I think we both made our points and positions within the first ten minutes. The remaining ninety minutes of discussion was pretty much cyclical, just going around and around in circles without adding much to the dialogue (at least, I feel as though I made no contributions after the first ten minutes).
I really didn’t mean for the conversation to last that long. I’m not particularly well trained or versed in apologetics. However, I do feel that I contributed at least one clever zinger to the lively conversation. At one point, I retorted, “When you have kids, then we’ll revisit whether or not you believe in total depravity”.
There is no one on earth that I love more than my wife and kids. And yet, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t believe my children were born corrupt and depraved, with some spiritual condition that not only predisposes them to sin but in a condition that enslaves them to sin. If you spend a day with my two children, you’ll see a familiar pattern which is consistent with most children. In a rested state, they often have little trouble listening and following instructions. We arrived at the mall around 11:00 a.m. As I strolled them around in our double-stroller, they enjoyed each other’s company, didn’t go out of their way to harass each other, and listened to me. I enjoy those moments because I know they won’t last. Many days, around 12:30-1:00 p.m. and again around 7:00 p.m., my children experience a breakdown, and chaos ensues. Right at 12:30 on the dot, all civility between my daughters disappeared. They had trouble listening. They certainly had trouble obeying. And the youngest began to make unpleasant noises that others in the mall certainly did not find festive, nor the sight of my youngest mugging and physically assaulting her older sister do I recall being a part of the Christmas tradition.
Funny thing, but I’ve never taught my children to be physically confrontational with each other. I’ve never taught them how to hit each other. In fact, I’ve never had to teach my children how to be rebellious or disobedient. Somehow, they arrived already wired that way. No, I’ve had to teach my children how to be good, how to show and demonstrate love to each other, and how to listen to their siblings and parents. That’s how I know my child is a sinner and was born a sinner.
At times I am utterly amazed and confounded how such thinking is viewed repulsive and repugnant by other parents, even Christian parents. I’ve just always assumed this to be one of the foundational assumptions of Christianity. It never dawned on me that when pressed, some Christian parents find the concept of total depravity to be emotionally distressing and fundamentally wrong.
[Robin is waking up. Hopefully I’ll be able to continue this train of thought later this evening.]
[Later in the evening] Apparently corporal punishment wasn’t the only thing that parenting has given the go old heave-ho. Any negative perception or thoughts about children is borderline emotional abuse. You actually see this mentality realized in everyday life. It normally manifests itself in the form of entitlement, which I am convinced will be one of the chief characteristics of this generation. A child, a teen, or an adult commits an act that is fundamentally wrong, and they know it. You know what happens? The parents plead, no they demand, that their children be spared the consequences of their decisions and actions, because “they’re good kids”. We philosophically believe that if a person stores up enough “good acts” or avoids “bad acts” long enough that they are allowed one or two indiscretions with a “Great-Out-Of-Jail” card. All I know is that most of the kids I grew up with were “good kids” but there was also hell to pay when you knowingly and intentionally broke rules, laws, or moral principles.
My children aren’t “bad” children, at least not in the manner in which our society labels people. For the most part, they obey. They know what is right and what is wrong, and for most of the day they will choose right (with the gentle but firm prodding of their parents and teachers). However, I have this hidden philosophy that the true character (or make-up) of a person is found when they are fatigued or at the end of their rope. For children, that is right around naptime and bedtime. They are tired, they are fatigued, and guess what, they no longer have the energy to “act the way they have been taught”. No, their true nature comes out, and they can become grouchy, impatient, impulsive, reckless, and downright confrontational. Some may say it’s only because they are tired. I believe it’s because they no longer have the energy or stamina to “mask” or “cover” their genuine nature.
Some may say that I have a very low view or cynical perspective of humanity. They would be partially right in principle, but I could just as easily counter that they have too high of a view of humanity. However, I find my position to be one of the most liberating aspects of my Christian worldview. No, seriously, I do. For one thing, I feel like I grasp the cost Christ bore for my salvation better now than even when I came to faith. I brought nothing to the table. I had utterly no merit to demand God’s eternal salvation. It had everything to do with God’s love. God’s love is not bound by merit, achievement, or status. Which brings me to my second point. At times I feel like I can only truly love others by reminding myself of God’s love. Perhaps I have a cynical or low view (or expectation of humanity). I am human. I judge, critique, and condemn others by their merit, achievement, and status. It’s only when I am reminded that God’s love for everyone is not based upon human attributes of success and accomplishment that I can even remotely be empowered to love others the way God loves them.
I am also utterly convinced that it’ll make me a better Christian parent. Because no matter how successful my children are in this world, it doesn’t affect God’s love for them. Success and achievement in this life doesn’t guarantee a relationship with Jesus Christ. And a personal relationship with Jesus Christ doesn’t guarantee success and achievement in this life. Since neither guarantees the other, my goal is for my children to pursue the one option that at least guarantees something. I want my children to know this God, the one true living God. I want them to understand the depths of God’s love for everyone. And I want them to love others not because of popularity or looks or money, but simply because God loves them, and loves them equally. I don’t know what the future holds, but I pray that’ll be my vision and goal for raising my children in the days, weeks, and years to come.
Recently at work, I got into a lively discussion with a couple of friends over the topic of total depravity (I am a staunch believer in total depravity). Reflecting on the conversation, I think we both made our points and positions within the first ten minutes. The remaining ninety minutes of discussion was pretty much cyclical, just going around and around in circles without adding much to the dialogue (at least, I feel as though I made no contributions after the first ten minutes).
I really didn’t mean for the conversation to last that long. I’m not particularly well trained or versed in apologetics. However, I do feel that I contributed at least one clever zinger to the lively conversation. At one point, I retorted, “When you have kids, then we’ll revisit whether or not you believe in total depravity”.
There is no one on earth that I love more than my wife and kids. And yet, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t believe my children were born corrupt and depraved, with some spiritual condition that not only predisposes them to sin but in a condition that enslaves them to sin. If you spend a day with my two children, you’ll see a familiar pattern which is consistent with most children. In a rested state, they often have little trouble listening and following instructions. We arrived at the mall around 11:00 a.m. As I strolled them around in our double-stroller, they enjoyed each other’s company, didn’t go out of their way to harass each other, and listened to me. I enjoy those moments because I know they won’t last. Many days, around 12:30-1:00 p.m. and again around 7:00 p.m., my children experience a breakdown, and chaos ensues. Right at 12:30 on the dot, all civility between my daughters disappeared. They had trouble listening. They certainly had trouble obeying. And the youngest began to make unpleasant noises that others in the mall certainly did not find festive, nor the sight of my youngest mugging and physically assaulting her older sister do I recall being a part of the Christmas tradition.
Funny thing, but I’ve never taught my children to be physically confrontational with each other. I’ve never taught them how to hit each other. In fact, I’ve never had to teach my children how to be rebellious or disobedient. Somehow, they arrived already wired that way. No, I’ve had to teach my children how to be good, how to show and demonstrate love to each other, and how to listen to their siblings and parents. That’s how I know my child is a sinner and was born a sinner.
At times I am utterly amazed and confounded how such thinking is viewed repulsive and repugnant by other parents, even Christian parents. I’ve just always assumed this to be one of the foundational assumptions of Christianity. It never dawned on me that when pressed, some Christian parents find the concept of total depravity to be emotionally distressing and fundamentally wrong.
[Robin is waking up. Hopefully I’ll be able to continue this train of thought later this evening.]
[Later in the evening] Apparently corporal punishment wasn’t the only thing that parenting has given the go old heave-ho. Any negative perception or thoughts about children is borderline emotional abuse. You actually see this mentality realized in everyday life. It normally manifests itself in the form of entitlement, which I am convinced will be one of the chief characteristics of this generation. A child, a teen, or an adult commits an act that is fundamentally wrong, and they know it. You know what happens? The parents plead, no they demand, that their children be spared the consequences of their decisions and actions, because “they’re good kids”. We philosophically believe that if a person stores up enough “good acts” or avoids “bad acts” long enough that they are allowed one or two indiscretions with a “Great-Out-Of-Jail” card. All I know is that most of the kids I grew up with were “good kids” but there was also hell to pay when you knowingly and intentionally broke rules, laws, or moral principles.
My children aren’t “bad” children, at least not in the manner in which our society labels people. For the most part, they obey. They know what is right and what is wrong, and for most of the day they will choose right (with the gentle but firm prodding of their parents and teachers). However, I have this hidden philosophy that the true character (or make-up) of a person is found when they are fatigued or at the end of their rope. For children, that is right around naptime and bedtime. They are tired, they are fatigued, and guess what, they no longer have the energy to “act the way they have been taught”. No, their true nature comes out, and they can become grouchy, impatient, impulsive, reckless, and downright confrontational. Some may say it’s only because they are tired. I believe it’s because they no longer have the energy or stamina to “mask” or “cover” their genuine nature.
Some may say that I have a very low view or cynical perspective of humanity. They would be partially right in principle, but I could just as easily counter that they have too high of a view of humanity. However, I find my position to be one of the most liberating aspects of my Christian worldview. No, seriously, I do. For one thing, I feel like I grasp the cost Christ bore for my salvation better now than even when I came to faith. I brought nothing to the table. I had utterly no merit to demand God’s eternal salvation. It had everything to do with God’s love. God’s love is not bound by merit, achievement, or status. Which brings me to my second point. At times I feel like I can only truly love others by reminding myself of God’s love. Perhaps I have a cynical or low view (or expectation of humanity). I am human. I judge, critique, and condemn others by their merit, achievement, and status. It’s only when I am reminded that God’s love for everyone is not based upon human attributes of success and accomplishment that I can even remotely be empowered to love others the way God loves them.
I am also utterly convinced that it’ll make me a better Christian parent. Because no matter how successful my children are in this world, it doesn’t affect God’s love for them. Success and achievement in this life doesn’t guarantee a relationship with Jesus Christ. And a personal relationship with Jesus Christ doesn’t guarantee success and achievement in this life. Since neither guarantees the other, my goal is for my children to pursue the one option that at least guarantees something. I want my children to know this God, the one true living God. I want them to understand the depths of God’s love for everyone. And I want them to love others not because of popularity or looks or money, but simply because God loves them, and loves them equally. I don’t know what the future holds, but I pray that’ll be my vision and goal for raising my children in the days, weeks, and years to come.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Mr. Mom Week: Part 1 - Underachieving & Overpraised! How "Average" Became the New "Excellent"
So I’m doing the Mr. Mom thing for the next four or five days, depending how my wife, her sister, and their mother can interact and tolerate each others’ company and emotional wellbeing while trapped in a Volvo together. I thought I’d post some deep, relevant thoughts and reflections upon completion of each day, but since I spent the entire day with two children under the age of five, I’m completely rundown and have no thoughts left, let alone deep thoughts. Just kidding, actually as I navigated through the gamut of parental tasks and responsibilities, a million moments of intersecting thoughts and reflections overwhelmed my mind (I actually had someone who attends my Sunday school class this past Sunday declare that I made his head hurt – the entire context of his statement led me to believe it was a partial compliment, at least that’s how it took it).
In the days leading up to my wife venturing off with her mother and sister to visit some of her father’s childhood friends in Mississippi, I got received a ridiculous amount of admiration from many friends. There was also a fair amount of prayers and well wishes, as though I just informed my friends that I was attempting to fast for one whole year. It was as if I just told my friends I was going to accomplish the impossible; a father taking care of his two young children all by himself.
At first, I welcomed the admiration and was put off by the prayers of intercession and miracles on my behalf. Was I really giving off signals that I would be attempting Hara Kiri at the conclusion of these 5 days? Were people expecting me to fail? Was I anticipating failure? Did people really think 5 straight days with my kids was in the same category of waterboarding terrorists? Do they hate their own children that much? In the end, however, both responses elicited a measure of disdain from me. Everybody meant well and there was no malice or judgment in how people responded to the circumstances. However, many of these people unknowingly tapped into some thoughts that had been stored in the back of my mind for quite some time.
First off, parenting is not easy. It’s not easy for mothers. It’s not easy for fathers. It is especially not easy for single parents or working parents. My mother just happened to fall into both categories. Structure, activities, engagements, and routine may aid and assist both mothers and fathers in the day-to-day planning and execution of their lives and the lives of their children, but the fact remains that parenting is not easy. It was never intended to be easy. You’re essentially attempting to mold an angel out of a demon.
Second, I’ll admit upfront that I can be extremely critical of parents, especially stay-at-home mothers. I’m not particular proud of it (O.K., I’m altogether not proud of it). I’m having to unlearn my expectations that were fostered and imprinted into my parental DNA. I was raised by a single, working mother who labored in two to three jobs at the same time to provide food and shelter to the three of her four children she was raising. I’ve said parenting isn’t easy. But for some, parental responsibilities and duties raise obstacles and challenges that are not even remotely related to the children. My mother was superhuman. I shouldn’t expect that from myself. I especially shouldn’t expect it (or demand it) from the mother of my children.
Third, I love my children. I think they are the coolest people in the world. They are the only people on the face of the earth that in the span of a few seconds can both jaw-droppingly (is that a word?) amaze me by their intelligence and developmental progress and also make me want to educate myself on the traditional Catholic practice of exorcisms. I love being with them. About three years ago I spent roughly three months doing the Mr. Mom thing full-time (albeit with only one child, and I guess it was part-time, since it was really only in the mornings). However, I can say with all honesty that I have never felt happier or more fulfilled in life than I did during those three months.
Having said that, I’ve observed a movement, or change in thinking, that I believe is infecting our culture and society, and the arena of parenting is not immune to its influence. In fact, I believe the institution of family is the very place where this type of thinking is most detrimental. I’ve always processed or articulated this issue in the form of a question; “When did mediocre become universally acceptable?”
Working in an academic institution, I observe this mentality primarily in the field of scholarship and grades. Students do all the work required, and therefore expect an above average or excellent grade. Once again, my objection takes the form of a question: “When did fulfilling your basic responsibilities and obligations become praiseworthy?” You do what is expected of you, and you should receive a mark of satisfactory. Any mark greater than satisfactory (or average) should demand more. Is my logic flawed?
Have we as a society (or even as the Church) strayed so far away that fulfilling one’s basic duty is so praiseworthy? I thought one’s duty or responsibilities was their obligation and therefore required no such accolades. Several weeks ago, a guest preacher at our church spoke on stewardship, and he mentioned that giving wasn’t credited to a Jew until after they satisfied their basic 10% obligation. In other words, satisfying your basic obligations was not deemed giving to the Lord. It was deemed “required” by the Lord.
Is a father tending to their children praiseworthy? Not to sound like an old, cantankerous fuddy-duddy, but isn’t that what parents are suppose to do? Isn’t that their basic and fundamental responsibility? We as a society could be labeled as underachieving and overpraised. To be continued at a later date. Mr. Mom signing off.
In the days leading up to my wife venturing off with her mother and sister to visit some of her father’s childhood friends in Mississippi, I got received a ridiculous amount of admiration from many friends. There was also a fair amount of prayers and well wishes, as though I just informed my friends that I was attempting to fast for one whole year. It was as if I just told my friends I was going to accomplish the impossible; a father taking care of his two young children all by himself.
At first, I welcomed the admiration and was put off by the prayers of intercession and miracles on my behalf. Was I really giving off signals that I would be attempting Hara Kiri at the conclusion of these 5 days? Were people expecting me to fail? Was I anticipating failure? Did people really think 5 straight days with my kids was in the same category of waterboarding terrorists? Do they hate their own children that much? In the end, however, both responses elicited a measure of disdain from me. Everybody meant well and there was no malice or judgment in how people responded to the circumstances. However, many of these people unknowingly tapped into some thoughts that had been stored in the back of my mind for quite some time.
First off, parenting is not easy. It’s not easy for mothers. It’s not easy for fathers. It is especially not easy for single parents or working parents. My mother just happened to fall into both categories. Structure, activities, engagements, and routine may aid and assist both mothers and fathers in the day-to-day planning and execution of their lives and the lives of their children, but the fact remains that parenting is not easy. It was never intended to be easy. You’re essentially attempting to mold an angel out of a demon.
Second, I’ll admit upfront that I can be extremely critical of parents, especially stay-at-home mothers. I’m not particular proud of it (O.K., I’m altogether not proud of it). I’m having to unlearn my expectations that were fostered and imprinted into my parental DNA. I was raised by a single, working mother who labored in two to three jobs at the same time to provide food and shelter to the three of her four children she was raising. I’ve said parenting isn’t easy. But for some, parental responsibilities and duties raise obstacles and challenges that are not even remotely related to the children. My mother was superhuman. I shouldn’t expect that from myself. I especially shouldn’t expect it (or demand it) from the mother of my children.
Third, I love my children. I think they are the coolest people in the world. They are the only people on the face of the earth that in the span of a few seconds can both jaw-droppingly (is that a word?) amaze me by their intelligence and developmental progress and also make me want to educate myself on the traditional Catholic practice of exorcisms. I love being with them. About three years ago I spent roughly three months doing the Mr. Mom thing full-time (albeit with only one child, and I guess it was part-time, since it was really only in the mornings). However, I can say with all honesty that I have never felt happier or more fulfilled in life than I did during those three months.
Having said that, I’ve observed a movement, or change in thinking, that I believe is infecting our culture and society, and the arena of parenting is not immune to its influence. In fact, I believe the institution of family is the very place where this type of thinking is most detrimental. I’ve always processed or articulated this issue in the form of a question; “When did mediocre become universally acceptable?”
Working in an academic institution, I observe this mentality primarily in the field of scholarship and grades. Students do all the work required, and therefore expect an above average or excellent grade. Once again, my objection takes the form of a question: “When did fulfilling your basic responsibilities and obligations become praiseworthy?” You do what is expected of you, and you should receive a mark of satisfactory. Any mark greater than satisfactory (or average) should demand more. Is my logic flawed?
Have we as a society (or even as the Church) strayed so far away that fulfilling one’s basic duty is so praiseworthy? I thought one’s duty or responsibilities was their obligation and therefore required no such accolades. Several weeks ago, a guest preacher at our church spoke on stewardship, and he mentioned that giving wasn’t credited to a Jew until after they satisfied their basic 10% obligation. In other words, satisfying your basic obligations was not deemed giving to the Lord. It was deemed “required” by the Lord.
Is a father tending to their children praiseworthy? Not to sound like an old, cantankerous fuddy-duddy, but isn’t that what parents are suppose to do? Isn’t that their basic and fundamental responsibility? We as a society could be labeled as underachieving and overpraised. To be continued at a later date. Mr. Mom signing off.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Should Atheists Boycott Veggie Tales? (and other thoughts)
It would seem like the perfect subject. A film that supposedly mocks religion and hopes to turn children into future atheists. A blog that wishes to engage in Christianity and the popular arts medium. It’s the perfect merging of all that this blog wishes to be. So why hasn’t there been a post yet about the Golden Compass?
Well, there are several reasons. First, I didn’t want to be reactionary. If I was going to boycott or somehow object to the film, I was going to do so for the right reasons and with the right amount of accurate information. Second, I wanted to navigate a larger terrain and address all the issues that are engulfed by this film and subject matter. Third, I wanted to wait and see the response by the general public. I wanted to read the critics’ reviews. I wanted to see the box office revenue of the opening weekend. Fourth and finally, I was sick of hearing about it, so I waited until the reactionary brouhaha subsided.
I know a lot of Christians who were stirred to their very core about this film, people who I respect and I believe represent the best in Christian faith and service. I admire their passion and resolve in this matter. And I perfectly respect their decision to boycott the film and urge others to do so.
However, despite the amble coverage and opinions that have been spoken, written, and blogged on this matter, very few people tackled this film and the larger issues at stake to the depth or degree that I would have liked to seen. Maybe it is me once again making that which is simple complex and complicated. Maybe it is me once again taking three pages to communicate that which can be argued in three paragraphs. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. However, I do know that when this issue was raised, there were several questions and issues that immediately popped up on my radar that I was hoping would be addressed, and so far I haven’t come across those discussions.
To me, the primary issue or question that everybody addressed was, “How should a Christian respond to a film or literary source which is anti-God?” It is a relevant and reasonable question. It was especially impassioned because the source material and subsequent film is directly targeting children, unlike say the Last Temptation of Christ by Nikos Kazantzakis and the subsequent film by Martin Scorsese or the Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown and the film by Ron Howard. Those were targeting more of an adult audience, or at least teenagers in regards to the Da Vinci Code. I have a four and one-half year old child. I wouldn’t take her to see the Golden Compass. I certainly wouldn’t encourage her to want to see it or encourage her to read the books. I think we could all agree on that (plus, most critics agree that the film stinks).
For me, however, the discussion doesn’t end there. It should be further explored. Would I ever allow my child to read these books or see the film? At what point are they at an age when it is more their decision than my own? And if they got to that point, should I still object on principle or read the books or see the film with my child? Would that be some form of endorsement? Would I be sinning by contributing money to atheistic propaganda? The more I consider the primary question, the more it dawns on me that this issue isn’t just about atheism. It is also about parenting, authority, independence, guidance, and ultimately, freedom. And that is not yet even addressing the author and the subject matter, which I will get to a bit later.
Does anybody actually know anybody who has read the books or seen the films? Anyone out there (that last sentence is taking a huge leap by assuming that there are more than three people reading this blog). Have any teens read the book? Have any parents read the books to their children? Of course not, because we can’t read the books because we’d have to buy the books, and by purchasing the books we’d be contributing funds to the cause, and the atheists would see that as a resounding victory over organized religion and the oppressive Christians (hopefully sarcasm translate well into the medium of written word).
Any atheists reading this blog? I write that last sentence with a small sprinkling of sarcasm, but also with a genuine intent. Who has read the books? Who has seen the films? Am I asking too much that someone be credible enough to know specifically what we are objecting to? Wasn’t it the very same Christians who took the Jewish leaders to task when they were objecting, boycotting, and picketing the Passion of the Christ without actually having seen it? I don’t know anyone who has read the books or seen the films. That is not to say that both may very well be repulsive and offensive to born-again Christians. I’m just saying that so far, everything I’ve heard is from someone else who heard it from someone else who says that the books and the films promote this or that. If we are to engage in a discussion, debate, or dialogue with such ammunition or information, we are in fact guilty of one of the very things that Philip Pullman (the avowed atheistic author) accuses organized religion of: namely, blind obedience and the inability to engage in debate with our minds and intellect (at least that’s what I’ve read, once again I have not read anything by Pullman).
I’ve had my rationale countered by arguments such as, “you don’t need to view Playboy to know that it is smut and pornography”. Perhaps such sentiments satisfy certain people. It does not me. I find that rationale and argument to be elementary and avoidance. It essentially does not address the primary subject at hand.
One thing about the boycott and debate that especially gets under my skin is that one of its chief orchestrates is none other than William Donohue, the President of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights in the United States. I do not know much about Philip Pullman, the author of His Dark Materials series, but I do know enough about William Donohue to warn anyone to align themselves with him or his organization, even in matters that one may be in agreement with his position. William Donohue is not about Civil Rights. He is about engaging the world though his persecutory complex. He is paranoid. The world is out for Catholics. Somehow a film that “endorses” atheism infringes upon the civil rights of Catholics. Am I missing something here?
My personal position is that I do not know enough about the books. I take a cautionary position. I do not plan to see the film. I do not plan to read the books. However, what is my role as a parent? And will it ever evolve or shift? What if my children want to see the film? What if they want to read the books? At what age should I trust them enough to agree? Or do I never agree? None of the countless emails or newsletters delved into this issue. It was a blanket boycott. No one see it. That’s not really that helpful for real-life parents who deal with real-life children and teens who are complex and individuals and don’t always respect or listen to their parents. I’m not claiming to have the answer. But I’m sure many others are asking the same question.
Let’s for a moment actually address some of the subject matter in the book. First, Pullman seems to target Christianity, and specifically the Catholic Church, in his writings. Does that not describe essentially half of the greatest novels of all-time? The Crucible. The Scarlet Letter. Ayn Rand’s works. Mark Twain’s works. Sinclair Lewis's Elmer Gantry. Many of the greatest works of fiction were at one point or another banned or considered obscene, blasphemous, or anti-religion. Many of them seem quaint today now that we are familiar with them, but that doesn’t make them any less critical of God, religious organizations, or the Church. Second, let’s be honest, the Catholic Church is in the midst of one of its darkest periods in “recent” history. The sex-scandal involving priests and underage children is one of the most disgraceful demonstrations of the fallacy and misguided leadership of the Magisterium. Pullman or anyone else want to take a shot at the hypocrisy and destructive leadership of the Catholic Church? Be my guest. You have every right. I am not Catholic. I am not anti-Catholic. But I am a human being and that’s all it takes to recognize the disgust in my mouth over the sex-scandal. Now, humanitarian and relief efforts to the poor, the widowed, and the marginalized are not happening because of the large lawsuit payouts. Shame on the Catholic Church.
Some Christians have been inspired by novels or even see pro-Christian themes in Pullman’s writings. G.P. Taylor, a Christian novelist, was inspired to write Christian fantasy novels after reading His Dark Materials and finding offense to Pullman’s work. However, Taylor has also been quoted in a recent Entertainment Weekly article as having met Philip Pullman and characterizing him as, “a gracious, generous thinker – probably the most Christian non-Christian I’ve ever met.” (http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20155516_20155530_20164514,00.html) The article also goes on to mention that the Catholic News Service gave the film a positive review, mentioning that, ''rather than banning the movie or books, parents might instead take the opportunity to talk through any thorny philosophical issues with their teens.''
Which brings me to my final point, how Philip Pullman has been treated or maligned by this controversy. Let me make my first point abundantly clear: PHILIP PULLMAN IS NOT THE ENEMY!!! Believe it or not, I know many people who are articulate, knowledgeable, kind, and get this, not Christians. Whether they be atheists or agnostics, they themselves are not the enemy. I believe their belief system to be false. I believe in the exclusiveness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But those who do not hold to such beliefs are not my enemies. In fact, before my conversion, Romans tells me I was an enemy of God.
Pullman has been quoted as coming to his beliefs concerning God because of lack of evidence. He is unable to see the existence of God. He also has many criticisms of organized religion and probably individual Christians. I wonder how much of this boycott has only confirmed to Pullman that which he was suspicious about to begin with. I will actually address it in a separate post that I have been working on for quite some time now, but the issue is love. Can Christians love Philip Pullman and really mean it? I mean really mean it? I mean not lip service, but really mean it and back it up with actions? Actions of love like we treat and acts with those who we love and are close to. Non-Christians are not the enemy. Maybe it’s because atheism hits closer to home for me than some other believers. You see, my father and my “step-mother” are atheists (the quotes around my “step-mother” can be explained at another time). Both are smart, resourceful, and take religion very seriously. My "step-mother" has even read through the entire bible (how many Christians can honestly make that claim?). In the end, she doesn’t buy it. She doesn’t believe it. And you know what, she’s not the enemy. In fact, she’s the very mission field God has given me. Are we turning away and repulsing the very people God wishes for us to be light and salt to while on this earth?
If no one knows of any single person who has read the books or seen the film, I am almost tempted to do so. While I would not necessarily encourage another to do so (I do not wish to encourage them to do something which they may be conflicted over), I have absoluately no fear that it'll negatively impact my faith and belief. Based on what I've read, I'm more afraid of a horrible two-hour movie experience.
Well, there are several reasons. First, I didn’t want to be reactionary. If I was going to boycott or somehow object to the film, I was going to do so for the right reasons and with the right amount of accurate information. Second, I wanted to navigate a larger terrain and address all the issues that are engulfed by this film and subject matter. Third, I wanted to wait and see the response by the general public. I wanted to read the critics’ reviews. I wanted to see the box office revenue of the opening weekend. Fourth and finally, I was sick of hearing about it, so I waited until the reactionary brouhaha subsided.
I know a lot of Christians who were stirred to their very core about this film, people who I respect and I believe represent the best in Christian faith and service. I admire their passion and resolve in this matter. And I perfectly respect their decision to boycott the film and urge others to do so.
However, despite the amble coverage and opinions that have been spoken, written, and blogged on this matter, very few people tackled this film and the larger issues at stake to the depth or degree that I would have liked to seen. Maybe it is me once again making that which is simple complex and complicated. Maybe it is me once again taking three pages to communicate that which can be argued in three paragraphs. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. However, I do know that when this issue was raised, there were several questions and issues that immediately popped up on my radar that I was hoping would be addressed, and so far I haven’t come across those discussions.
To me, the primary issue or question that everybody addressed was, “How should a Christian respond to a film or literary source which is anti-God?” It is a relevant and reasonable question. It was especially impassioned because the source material and subsequent film is directly targeting children, unlike say the Last Temptation of Christ by Nikos Kazantzakis and the subsequent film by Martin Scorsese or the Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown and the film by Ron Howard. Those were targeting more of an adult audience, or at least teenagers in regards to the Da Vinci Code. I have a four and one-half year old child. I wouldn’t take her to see the Golden Compass. I certainly wouldn’t encourage her to want to see it or encourage her to read the books. I think we could all agree on that (plus, most critics agree that the film stinks).
For me, however, the discussion doesn’t end there. It should be further explored. Would I ever allow my child to read these books or see the film? At what point are they at an age when it is more their decision than my own? And if they got to that point, should I still object on principle or read the books or see the film with my child? Would that be some form of endorsement? Would I be sinning by contributing money to atheistic propaganda? The more I consider the primary question, the more it dawns on me that this issue isn’t just about atheism. It is also about parenting, authority, independence, guidance, and ultimately, freedom. And that is not yet even addressing the author and the subject matter, which I will get to a bit later.
Does anybody actually know anybody who has read the books or seen the films? Anyone out there (that last sentence is taking a huge leap by assuming that there are more than three people reading this blog). Have any teens read the book? Have any parents read the books to their children? Of course not, because we can’t read the books because we’d have to buy the books, and by purchasing the books we’d be contributing funds to the cause, and the atheists would see that as a resounding victory over organized religion and the oppressive Christians (hopefully sarcasm translate well into the medium of written word).
Any atheists reading this blog? I write that last sentence with a small sprinkling of sarcasm, but also with a genuine intent. Who has read the books? Who has seen the films? Am I asking too much that someone be credible enough to know specifically what we are objecting to? Wasn’t it the very same Christians who took the Jewish leaders to task when they were objecting, boycotting, and picketing the Passion of the Christ without actually having seen it? I don’t know anyone who has read the books or seen the films. That is not to say that both may very well be repulsive and offensive to born-again Christians. I’m just saying that so far, everything I’ve heard is from someone else who heard it from someone else who says that the books and the films promote this or that. If we are to engage in a discussion, debate, or dialogue with such ammunition or information, we are in fact guilty of one of the very things that Philip Pullman (the avowed atheistic author) accuses organized religion of: namely, blind obedience and the inability to engage in debate with our minds and intellect (at least that’s what I’ve read, once again I have not read anything by Pullman).
I’ve had my rationale countered by arguments such as, “you don’t need to view Playboy to know that it is smut and pornography”. Perhaps such sentiments satisfy certain people. It does not me. I find that rationale and argument to be elementary and avoidance. It essentially does not address the primary subject at hand.
One thing about the boycott and debate that especially gets under my skin is that one of its chief orchestrates is none other than William Donohue, the President of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights in the United States. I do not know much about Philip Pullman, the author of His Dark Materials series, but I do know enough about William Donohue to warn anyone to align themselves with him or his organization, even in matters that one may be in agreement with his position. William Donohue is not about Civil Rights. He is about engaging the world though his persecutory complex. He is paranoid. The world is out for Catholics. Somehow a film that “endorses” atheism infringes upon the civil rights of Catholics. Am I missing something here?
My personal position is that I do not know enough about the books. I take a cautionary position. I do not plan to see the film. I do not plan to read the books. However, what is my role as a parent? And will it ever evolve or shift? What if my children want to see the film? What if they want to read the books? At what age should I trust them enough to agree? Or do I never agree? None of the countless emails or newsletters delved into this issue. It was a blanket boycott. No one see it. That’s not really that helpful for real-life parents who deal with real-life children and teens who are complex and individuals and don’t always respect or listen to their parents. I’m not claiming to have the answer. But I’m sure many others are asking the same question.
Let’s for a moment actually address some of the subject matter in the book. First, Pullman seems to target Christianity, and specifically the Catholic Church, in his writings. Does that not describe essentially half of the greatest novels of all-time? The Crucible. The Scarlet Letter. Ayn Rand’s works. Mark Twain’s works. Sinclair Lewis's Elmer Gantry. Many of the greatest works of fiction were at one point or another banned or considered obscene, blasphemous, or anti-religion. Many of them seem quaint today now that we are familiar with them, but that doesn’t make them any less critical of God, religious organizations, or the Church. Second, let’s be honest, the Catholic Church is in the midst of one of its darkest periods in “recent” history. The sex-scandal involving priests and underage children is one of the most disgraceful demonstrations of the fallacy and misguided leadership of the Magisterium. Pullman or anyone else want to take a shot at the hypocrisy and destructive leadership of the Catholic Church? Be my guest. You have every right. I am not Catholic. I am not anti-Catholic. But I am a human being and that’s all it takes to recognize the disgust in my mouth over the sex-scandal. Now, humanitarian and relief efforts to the poor, the widowed, and the marginalized are not happening because of the large lawsuit payouts. Shame on the Catholic Church.
Some Christians have been inspired by novels or even see pro-Christian themes in Pullman’s writings. G.P. Taylor, a Christian novelist, was inspired to write Christian fantasy novels after reading His Dark Materials and finding offense to Pullman’s work. However, Taylor has also been quoted in a recent Entertainment Weekly article as having met Philip Pullman and characterizing him as, “a gracious, generous thinker – probably the most Christian non-Christian I’ve ever met.” (http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20155516_20155530_20164514,00.html) The article also goes on to mention that the Catholic News Service gave the film a positive review, mentioning that, ''rather than banning the movie or books, parents might instead take the opportunity to talk through any thorny philosophical issues with their teens.''
Which brings me to my final point, how Philip Pullman has been treated or maligned by this controversy. Let me make my first point abundantly clear: PHILIP PULLMAN IS NOT THE ENEMY!!! Believe it or not, I know many people who are articulate, knowledgeable, kind, and get this, not Christians. Whether they be atheists or agnostics, they themselves are not the enemy. I believe their belief system to be false. I believe in the exclusiveness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But those who do not hold to such beliefs are not my enemies. In fact, before my conversion, Romans tells me I was an enemy of God.
Pullman has been quoted as coming to his beliefs concerning God because of lack of evidence. He is unable to see the existence of God. He also has many criticisms of organized religion and probably individual Christians. I wonder how much of this boycott has only confirmed to Pullman that which he was suspicious about to begin with. I will actually address it in a separate post that I have been working on for quite some time now, but the issue is love. Can Christians love Philip Pullman and really mean it? I mean really mean it? I mean not lip service, but really mean it and back it up with actions? Actions of love like we treat and acts with those who we love and are close to. Non-Christians are not the enemy. Maybe it’s because atheism hits closer to home for me than some other believers. You see, my father and my “step-mother” are atheists (the quotes around my “step-mother” can be explained at another time). Both are smart, resourceful, and take religion very seriously. My "step-mother" has even read through the entire bible (how many Christians can honestly make that claim?). In the end, she doesn’t buy it. She doesn’t believe it. And you know what, she’s not the enemy. In fact, she’s the very mission field God has given me. Are we turning away and repulsing the very people God wishes for us to be light and salt to while on this earth?
If no one knows of any single person who has read the books or seen the film, I am almost tempted to do so. While I would not necessarily encourage another to do so (I do not wish to encourage them to do something which they may be conflicted over), I have absoluately no fear that it'll negatively impact my faith and belief. Based on what I've read, I'm more afraid of a horrible two-hour movie experience.
Addendum (2007-12-18):
In the week or so since adding this post I came across two insightful articles I wanted to share.
A Gift Given, A Church Strengthened
Romans 1:8-17
It can be both amazing and devastating when a small, brief passage in the Bible exposes much artificialness and erroneous thinking that has crept into today’s church. On the surface, this passage may seem like nothing more than an obligatory Christian greeting. Paul includes them with all his writings. We Christians greet one another with our obligatory salutations everyday, often times without really expecting or caring for a response.
If, however, we stopped digging into the text at this point, we would miss many significant points that Paul, both directly and indirectly, communicates to the church in Rome. I will attempt to point out a few significant lessons that Paul provides, recognizing that pages and pages of commentary has already been written on this passage by men and women who are far my superior intellectually.
Although I do and do so quite often, I really can’t complain about my life. I am blessed with a wonderful wife and two amazing daughters. All of us have been blessed with good health and strength. I have a job. I have a home. And I have not experienced want in my life for quite some time. If there is something I want, I usually am able to get it, or I am able to compensate by getting something less expensive in its place. I know I have the tenacity to wear down my wife into submission, constantly pestering her until I purchase my toy or get my way. In short, I am able to make a way.
I have a creeping suspicion that much that goes on in the church (generally speaking – this is not an indictment on my home church) is a reflection of this lifestyle and culture. Many Christians and Christian leaders are driven by this concept of the perfect church. A healthy church should have this. A healthy church should be doing that. A healthy church should be growing this many. A church does not need to be a mega-church or a seeker-sensitive church to be a consumer-driven church. How much do we do not in the name of the Great Commission but in the name of appeasing someone?
Paul informs us in this passage that he has not visited the church in Rome just yet. The language that he has used up to this point could be mistakenly interpreted that he knows these Christians, he has nurtured their faith, and he founded the church. He loves them. He constantly prays for them. He wishes to give them a spiritual gift for their benefit. What a piercing conviction to my heart! I have a hard enough time remembering to pray for those who I know, who I love and who with I already have a relationship. Paul shares these feelings and then reassures the Romans that it is not from a lack of desire that he has not visited Rome. No, he hasn’t visited Rome yet because the opportunity has not been presented.
There are three elements that Paul addresses in this section: desire, opportunity, and timing. What Paul states in counter-cultural: desire is subject and submissive to opportunity and timing. That doesn’t seem to be the case in my life. If I want something, I make it happen. It seems to me that Christians have often omitted or diminished the role of opportunity and timing. Instead, they rationalize that the desire only need be good or have the potential for good. And with that, they’re off! Paul wanted to impart a spiritual gift to the Romans. And he waited because of lack of opportunity.
Another area of conviction that this passage brings to me is focusing on what God has placed before you and not wander into the unknown or future. Paul trusted God that Rome would present itself in God’s timing. He need not worry. Rather, Paul was to remain singular in his focus on the ministry and mission in front of him. Paul was not a daydreamer. I tend to be. Paul was not contemplating on greener pastures. He was where he was at for a reason.
Finally, Paul helps clarify for me a healthy perspective for church growth. He wishes to impart a spiritual gift to the Romans. Most commentators suggest he’s talking about the use of his own spiritual gifts, namely his gift of preaching, teaching, and discipleship. Paul is convinced it will produce a harvest. The harvest will be twofold: first, it will establish fruit among the believers, and second, it’ll usher in new converts into the fold.
I know a number of well-read, devoted Christians who are mature in their faith who shy away from any talk or growth or numbers. I suspect it is because other churches have tainted or misused growth evaluations. There are Christians who believe the bigger the church, the better the church. They want the church to be everything, provide everything, and do everything. Others believe that the most pious and committed Christians will join with smaller churches. They don’t want their gospel to be watered-down or polluted by contemporary elements. They want their organ, they want their charter members, and they want the church to die when they die. One way or another, most Christians have an opinion on both church size and church growth.
Paul believes that the harvest will strengthen the church. The question for us is, “how will it strengthen it?” First, new believers, or maturity in existing Christians, will expand and increase the number of spiritual gifts available to that church body. Each believer possesses unique gifts and roles in the body. No person is blessed with all the spiritual gifts (although you and I might know of some who believe they that are the exception). Second, a harvest will contribute to the zeal of the church that only a new convert can contribute. Have you ever been around people the moment they enter into the family of God? It is absolutely intoxicating. During my two years in Young Life and five years in youth ministry, it was conversions that carried me through lock-ins and leader / student conflict and the rest of the baggage that accompanies the youth sub-culture. Seasoned Christians can provide perspective and wisdom that comes with fighting the good fight through life’s dark tunnels. New believers can provide the enthusiasm and gung-ho zeal that is a natural by-product of the born-again reality. Third, a new harvest provides a broader distribution of leadership and authority. The constant wave of new believers prevents the few holding all the power and authority in the congregation. It is a healthy model of shared-ministry and shared-leadership.
I have a confession to make. I get extremely irritated whenever a Deacon or Elder serves two consecutive terms, or when after one term is satisfied, the spouse is the incoming leader that takes the spot of the outgoing leader. I hate legacies in leadership. I’m not sure if I can scripturally defend my distaste for it, but there I admit it. I’ve had several friends and faithful brothers and sisters in the faith participate in this legacy of leadership and I try with all my heart try and understand it and not think less of them for it. I am convinced that a dynamic and vibrant church (or at least a church I want to commit myself and my family to) is not fearful of leadership and responsibility that is dispersed amongst many different members of the body.
Fourth and finally, a harvest will strengthen a church because new zealous believers and maturing believers can help combat false doctrine, false leaders, and false teaching in the church. Much of the reasoning is directly tied into the shared leadership and the zeal of new believers. Shared ministry avoids too much authority given to one person. The zeal of new believers provides boldness that will challenge false teaching. All four of these points are interrelated and systemic. They pour into one another.
From a logical standpoint, if a new harvest results in these four consequences which strengthens a church, it could also mean that the definition of a dying or weakening church is one that does not witness, experience, or see new converts in its midst. The limitation of spiritual gifts can lead to a weakening or dying church. The lack of zeal from new believers can weaken or kill a church. The leadership of only the few can contribute to the weakening or death of a church. And finally, the lack of bold accountability against false doctrine, false leadership, and false teaching can weaken or kill a church.
I tried to think of some catchy or profound climax to this devotion, perhaps some provocative questions to consider. In the end, the passage speaks for itself. And hopefully, the conviction in our hearts and the power of God’s grace and forgiveness speaks for itself. Are we about our Father’s business? Or are we still about getting our way? Can we trust our desires? Do we justify our wants with the potential or possibility that it might help lead someone someday at some point to the gospel? Are we witnessing new converts? Do we even care? Are we uncomfortable with young zealous believers? Are we willing and able to let go of leadership to others? So much to consider. I hope we do so. Blessings.
It can be both amazing and devastating when a small, brief passage in the Bible exposes much artificialness and erroneous thinking that has crept into today’s church. On the surface, this passage may seem like nothing more than an obligatory Christian greeting. Paul includes them with all his writings. We Christians greet one another with our obligatory salutations everyday, often times without really expecting or caring for a response.
If, however, we stopped digging into the text at this point, we would miss many significant points that Paul, both directly and indirectly, communicates to the church in Rome. I will attempt to point out a few significant lessons that Paul provides, recognizing that pages and pages of commentary has already been written on this passage by men and women who are far my superior intellectually.
Although I do and do so quite often, I really can’t complain about my life. I am blessed with a wonderful wife and two amazing daughters. All of us have been blessed with good health and strength. I have a job. I have a home. And I have not experienced want in my life for quite some time. If there is something I want, I usually am able to get it, or I am able to compensate by getting something less expensive in its place. I know I have the tenacity to wear down my wife into submission, constantly pestering her until I purchase my toy or get my way. In short, I am able to make a way.
I have a creeping suspicion that much that goes on in the church (generally speaking – this is not an indictment on my home church) is a reflection of this lifestyle and culture. Many Christians and Christian leaders are driven by this concept of the perfect church. A healthy church should have this. A healthy church should be doing that. A healthy church should be growing this many. A church does not need to be a mega-church or a seeker-sensitive church to be a consumer-driven church. How much do we do not in the name of the Great Commission but in the name of appeasing someone?
Paul informs us in this passage that he has not visited the church in Rome just yet. The language that he has used up to this point could be mistakenly interpreted that he knows these Christians, he has nurtured their faith, and he founded the church. He loves them. He constantly prays for them. He wishes to give them a spiritual gift for their benefit. What a piercing conviction to my heart! I have a hard enough time remembering to pray for those who I know, who I love and who with I already have a relationship. Paul shares these feelings and then reassures the Romans that it is not from a lack of desire that he has not visited Rome. No, he hasn’t visited Rome yet because the opportunity has not been presented.
There are three elements that Paul addresses in this section: desire, opportunity, and timing. What Paul states in counter-cultural: desire is subject and submissive to opportunity and timing. That doesn’t seem to be the case in my life. If I want something, I make it happen. It seems to me that Christians have often omitted or diminished the role of opportunity and timing. Instead, they rationalize that the desire only need be good or have the potential for good. And with that, they’re off! Paul wanted to impart a spiritual gift to the Romans. And he waited because of lack of opportunity.
Another area of conviction that this passage brings to me is focusing on what God has placed before you and not wander into the unknown or future. Paul trusted God that Rome would present itself in God’s timing. He need not worry. Rather, Paul was to remain singular in his focus on the ministry and mission in front of him. Paul was not a daydreamer. I tend to be. Paul was not contemplating on greener pastures. He was where he was at for a reason.
Finally, Paul helps clarify for me a healthy perspective for church growth. He wishes to impart a spiritual gift to the Romans. Most commentators suggest he’s talking about the use of his own spiritual gifts, namely his gift of preaching, teaching, and discipleship. Paul is convinced it will produce a harvest. The harvest will be twofold: first, it will establish fruit among the believers, and second, it’ll usher in new converts into the fold.
I know a number of well-read, devoted Christians who are mature in their faith who shy away from any talk or growth or numbers. I suspect it is because other churches have tainted or misused growth evaluations. There are Christians who believe the bigger the church, the better the church. They want the church to be everything, provide everything, and do everything. Others believe that the most pious and committed Christians will join with smaller churches. They don’t want their gospel to be watered-down or polluted by contemporary elements. They want their organ, they want their charter members, and they want the church to die when they die. One way or another, most Christians have an opinion on both church size and church growth.
Paul believes that the harvest will strengthen the church. The question for us is, “how will it strengthen it?” First, new believers, or maturity in existing Christians, will expand and increase the number of spiritual gifts available to that church body. Each believer possesses unique gifts and roles in the body. No person is blessed with all the spiritual gifts (although you and I might know of some who believe they that are the exception). Second, a harvest will contribute to the zeal of the church that only a new convert can contribute. Have you ever been around people the moment they enter into the family of God? It is absolutely intoxicating. During my two years in Young Life and five years in youth ministry, it was conversions that carried me through lock-ins and leader / student conflict and the rest of the baggage that accompanies the youth sub-culture. Seasoned Christians can provide perspective and wisdom that comes with fighting the good fight through life’s dark tunnels. New believers can provide the enthusiasm and gung-ho zeal that is a natural by-product of the born-again reality. Third, a new harvest provides a broader distribution of leadership and authority. The constant wave of new believers prevents the few holding all the power and authority in the congregation. It is a healthy model of shared-ministry and shared-leadership.
I have a confession to make. I get extremely irritated whenever a Deacon or Elder serves two consecutive terms, or when after one term is satisfied, the spouse is the incoming leader that takes the spot of the outgoing leader. I hate legacies in leadership. I’m not sure if I can scripturally defend my distaste for it, but there I admit it. I’ve had several friends and faithful brothers and sisters in the faith participate in this legacy of leadership and I try with all my heart try and understand it and not think less of them for it. I am convinced that a dynamic and vibrant church (or at least a church I want to commit myself and my family to) is not fearful of leadership and responsibility that is dispersed amongst many different members of the body.
Fourth and finally, a harvest will strengthen a church because new zealous believers and maturing believers can help combat false doctrine, false leaders, and false teaching in the church. Much of the reasoning is directly tied into the shared leadership and the zeal of new believers. Shared ministry avoids too much authority given to one person. The zeal of new believers provides boldness that will challenge false teaching. All four of these points are interrelated and systemic. They pour into one another.
From a logical standpoint, if a new harvest results in these four consequences which strengthens a church, it could also mean that the definition of a dying or weakening church is one that does not witness, experience, or see new converts in its midst. The limitation of spiritual gifts can lead to a weakening or dying church. The lack of zeal from new believers can weaken or kill a church. The leadership of only the few can contribute to the weakening or death of a church. And finally, the lack of bold accountability against false doctrine, false leadership, and false teaching can weaken or kill a church.
I tried to think of some catchy or profound climax to this devotion, perhaps some provocative questions to consider. In the end, the passage speaks for itself. And hopefully, the conviction in our hearts and the power of God’s grace and forgiveness speaks for itself. Are we about our Father’s business? Or are we still about getting our way? Can we trust our desires? Do we justify our wants with the potential or possibility that it might help lead someone someday at some point to the gospel? Are we witnessing new converts? Do we even care? Are we uncomfortable with young zealous believers? Are we willing and able to let go of leadership to others? So much to consider. I hope we do so. Blessings.
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