Theology
An Open Letter to the Qur’an Burning Pastor
0Dear Pastor Jones,
I can appreciate your concern for the falsity of Islam. As John Piper notes, bad theology dishonors God and hurts people, and I can’t think of a theological construct more hurtful, more violent, more angry, more damnable than Islam.
Except for bad Christian theology.
As ambassadors of Christ, we are charged with the awesome responsibility of representing Jesus Himself to the world. None of us is perfect, and so at times even the most well intentioned believer can and will fall short. But since we are His regents, we must be careful not to take God’s name in vain by misrepresenting His will, person, and character. Behavior guided by a warped theological grid will inevitably do just that; the result is damaged hearts, relationships, lives, and even cultures. I know this firsthand by virtue of my own failures.
You have cited the radicality of Jesus as biblical warrant for what you are doing. Granted, Jesus did some radical things. He appointed a tax collector and a Zealot (political arch-enemies) to stand side by side as two members of the close-knit Twelve. He set aside the rights of his office as Rabbi and Lord and washed the feet of His followers like a servant. But most radically, He allowed Himself to be led like a sheep to the slaughter. He refused to revile in return those who beat and cursed him, and though twelve legions of angels were at His command, He allowed Himself to be tortured and crucified cruelly on a cross. He died: for you, for me, and… for Muslims.
He is Yahweh-Sabaoth, the Lord of Hosts, but I know in my heart that the teeming throngs of people deceived by Mohammed’s teachings move Him to grief. He is not willing that any should perish, but that all should enter into eternal life.
Honestly, I admire your courage; you’re sticking to your guns even though the entire world is frowning upon you and your flock. And I can even understand your desire to “send a message.” We’ve all been wounded by the acts of Islamic terrorists. We’ve all burned with anger as we’ve observed the wanton Islamic violence and intimidation aimed at our people and our homeland. But what you are doing is not love. It is not grace. It is not outreach. It is not redemptive. It is an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Your message is actually one of reprisal — in diametric opposition to the Golden Rule.
Jesus’ bravery is demonstrated most clearly not in the overturning of tables in the temple, but in the act of sacrificing Himself for humanity — a race that has shaken its collective fist in God’s face in abject rebellion.
Our government has pressured you not to go forward out of concern for the safety of our soldiers. I beg of you — not merely out of concern for what violence Muslims may commit in response, but fearful rather for the Muslims that could be turned away from their Savior on your account — please desist. There is no shame or cowardice in turning from a destructive or unwise path.
Love believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love NEVER fails. What force, what political speech, what message could be more powerful than that of Christ’s love for everyone? I pray that, in the days ahead, your decisions and actions will be guided by His love and by the clear leading of His Spirit.
Yours in Christ,
Rob
Daniel as a model for Christian political involvement
0I’m sure you all are aware that political discourse in our country has become increasingly acrimonious and vapid. Both sides of the political spectrum hurl invective at one another. Demagoguery abounds. Politicians deal in platitudes, and the citizenry is both polarized and distrustful of the authorities like never before.
As a Christian man, I may disagree vehemently with a given political party or an individual candidate. But, biblically, that does not give me license to behave hatefully toward them, or to default to believing the worst about them. Rather, I’m called to honor them, to pray for them, to regard them as stewards who are ultimately chosen by God to faithfully discharge the office they hold. And I believe I’m called to do what I can to help them steward that position faithfully. Sometimes that involves the prophetic responsibility of calling them to account, as the OT prophets often did with the kings, but I won’t get into that here.
I think Daniel’s example is particularly instructive. Think about his situation:
- He was forcibly taken into exile. He had suffered injustice at the hands of Babylon.
- Babylon was a pagan culture that did not recognize the Living God or follow His ways.
- Nebuchadnezzar was a pompous man with a bad temper and a lust for power, and yet Daniel, a man of God, had been involuntarily pressed into his service.
Daniel was betwixt and between, to be sure. And he had every reason to disparage the Babylonians and their king, to wish for their downfall. But I see in Daniel a man who never compromised his faith in God while distinguishing himself in faithful, loyal service to an unholy culture. Even though the king didn’t govern rightly, you never see one ounce of disdain or disrespect coming from Daniel. Rather, you hear phrases like, “O King, may you live forever.” Daniel lived a no compromise life, but he had the honor and respect of those who didn’t know God. And God used his righteous tenacity to reveal Himself to Nebuchadnezzar, who transitioned from glorifying himself to recognizing that God is sovereign over the nations.
I wonder if that might not be a desirable paradigm for our present political culture. You may be happy about who’s in power right now. It may drive you crazy at the moment. But how would Daniel handle it?
Daniel 11:32 states that those who know their God shall be strong and do great exploits in His name. Perhaps that captures the secret of the remarkable life Daniel lived. For my own part, I’m both convicted and inspired by his example. And I pray that our culture is flooded with Daniels in this crucial, desperate hour.
I intend to be one of them.
Thoughts on idolatry
1I just read the account of Jehu’s purging of Ahab’s dynasty and every last trace of Baal worship in 2 Kings. It’s interesting to me that Jehu touts his zeal for the Lord, and at one point God Himself commends Jehu for faithfully carrying out His instructions vis-a-vis Ahab’s descendents. And yet, in 2 Kings 10:31, we find the following words:
Jehu did not obey the Law of the Lord, the God of Israel, with all his heart. He refused to turn from the sins that Jeroboam had led Israel to commit.
Apparently, Jehu chose not to destroy the golden calves that Jeroboam had originally erected for the purpose of securing his own kingship and keeping the people from making pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem.
Jeroboam’s idolatry was a stumbling block to the northern kingdom of Israel from the moment he rebelled against the Davidic line and first rose to power. I wonder at Jehu’s failure to completely reverse idolatry in the land. Was it because he shared Jeroboam’s fear that the people would lose their allegiance to his crown in favor of Judah’s king? Or was it because (as Tolkien might put it) “lore waned” in Israel, and the very notion of what it truly meant to follow God’s Law had been lost? If the former, was Jehu aware of Jeroboam’s reasoning? If he was, it suggests to me that sufficient archival work had been done in Israel to (at minimum) ensure that a copy of the Law of God was available to the king, for heaven’s sake—making Jehu’s failure all the more damnable. Or, perhaps Jeroboam’s sin had set Israel on a trajectory that so diverged from God’s blueprint by Jehu’s time that it caused Israel to lose touch with the very oracles of God, royal archives notwithstanding.
In any case, it’s amazing how Jeroboam’s sin remains a bloodstain on the fabric of Israel’s existence from his time forward, and manages to survive even of the likes of Jehu. It seems that part of the insidious nature of idolatry, whatever its genesis, is a stubborn ability to self-propagate across generations.
On Calamity and Divine Judgment
0I made the comments below in the wake of hurricane Katrina. Given the nightmarish suffering that’s occurring in Haiti at the moment (and some notorious commentary that’s floating about on the subject), it seemed like a good idea to repost them.
Did God judge New Orleans by sending Katrina? It’s not beyond the realm of possibility, nor is it without biblical precedent. God is love, but He is also judge, and he does bring the nations to account for their deeds. But Luke 13 indicates that Christians ought to refrain from being so glib in their pronouncements of gloom and doom. The locus of the Church’s ministry in such times ought to be in reaching out with the love, care, and compassion of Christ — not in smug proclamations of judgment from the comfort of an easy chair.
Ever heard of Jonah, folks? You know, the guy who wanted God to fry those brutal, savage, imperialistic Assyrians? Did God allow him to just sit back and wait for Him to destroy Nineveh? Or did He send Jonah in mission to them in hopes that they would repent so they could be spared? And what did Jonah learn in the end — that God enjoys laying waste to entire cities, or that He’d rather spare them? Is God pleased when his people are happy about or hopeful for the destruction of non-Christians? Or would he prefer us to be motivated by His heart for compassion and rescue and reach out to unbelievers?
Blessings,
Rob
aka The MonT-SteR
Bible tweets?
0David Schuster of MSNBC made a number of tweets today (if you don’t know what that is, go here) decrying Miss California’s stance on gay marriage. In essence, he cited several verses from Leviticus in an attempt to demonstrate that Christians are guilty of cherry picking Biblical prohibitions in order to justify their “bigotry” vis-à-vis homosexuality. The argument goes like this: Christians are happy to ignore all sorts of strange and arcane prohibitions in Leviticus, but they capriciously fixate on the prohibition against homosexuality in Lev. 18:22; if the other prohibitions can be licitly ignored with advantage, there’s no good reason to regard Lev. 18:22 as binding either.
This is actually a common argument, and on its face it has the appearance of merit. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take into account the various categories of law contained in the Mosaic books. Some directly enumerate universal principles that transcend culture (e.g., the Decalogue in Exodus 20). Others apply these universal principles to Israel’s cultural setting; as such, the application cited in the Law is necessarily occasional. In other words, even though the transcendent principle behind certain cultural prohibitions is itself inviolate, we wouldn’t expect it to be applied the exact same way in every cultural context. The task for the modern biblical interpreter is to do the legwork necessary to tell the difference and live accordingly.
For example, Schuster cites Lev. 19:27, which “expressly forbids men from getting their hair trimmed.” In our culture, this seems patently absurd. Most men shave daily before they go to work as a simple matter of personal hygiene and professionalism; to suggest that we are offending God by doing so smacks of lunacy. But the men of the cultures surrounding Israel commonly shaved their hair and beards for occultic purposes (this could be inferred from the context, especially given vv. 26 and 28). Thus, Lev. 19:27 isn’t an arbitrary and silly prohibition; it is, rather, a culturally-attuned application of the universal, Decalogic proscriptions against idolatry and worshiping other gods.
A couple more statements by Schuster, intermingled with my comments:
- If a narrow read of the bible is the last word on “marriage,” what about bible based condemnations of cosmetic surgery?
It’s certainly valid to consider whether or not cosmetic surgery is biblically sanctioned, but does he really mean to suggest that breast implants and homosexuality are morally equivalent? I hope not… - Lev. 19:19 forbids planting two different crops in the same field or wearing two different kinds of thread Penalty? Lev. 24:10-16 death.
Here, Schuster makes a common error by reading these verses sheerly through the lens of modern experience and sensibilities. In order to make sense of the Bible—particularly the OT—we have to make an effort to understand the milieu of the ancient Near East (ANE). In a nutshell, Israel was an agrarian culture utterly dependent on a good harvest for its very survival. If Schuster’s going to invoke modernity with respect to Lev 19:19, he might do well to observe that modern farmers judiciously avoid planting corn, wheat, and soybeans together in the same field. Perhaps science and experience have taught us that mingling crops ruins both harvest and subsequent generations of seed. If so, God’s prohibition takes into account the fact that such activity in ancient Israel would not only threaten livelihood, but life itself. I don’t know about you, but I can understand why a God who cares for His people would tell them in no uncertain terms, “Do NOT do this.”
Schuster had more to say, which I will address in another post (it’s getting late). But the overarching point here is that the cherry picking Schuster is declaiming against actually isn’t cherry picking at all. It’s a very reasonable bow to the difference between 21st century America and ancient Israel. Even so, a little detective work reveals that these prohibitions Schuster et al find so silly and superfluous actually have both warrant and wisdom behind them. In any case, the occasional nature of these Levitical proscriptions does not give us license to dismiss or ignore the God-given, trans-cultural absolutes they depend on.
I daresay, Mr. Schuster, that Lev. 18:22 is no exception.
Blessings,
Rob
aka The MonT-SteR
Politics of the Emerging Church
1Dave Brody over at the Brody File cited a recent Newsweek article covering the gains Democrats have made amongst young evangelicals, who voted for Obama in surprising numbers.
Interestingly, CBN News is re-airing a story on the emerging church (go here for a primer if you don’t know what that means) detailing how the movement is generating both buzz and controversy — the latter within older or more traditional evangelical circles.
With its emphasis on community, relationships, ministry to the poor, and adopting a welcoming posture toward people who typically wouldn’t darken a traditional church’s door, the emerging church has a lot going for it. But if the concentration of young evangelicals who support biblically suspect candidates and policies exists within the emerging church (as I suspect it does), evangelicalism may have a bit of a problem on its hands.
In response to Brody’s article, I sent him an e-mail outlining my concerns in summary fashion. Take a read and let me know what you think:
For my own part, I voted against Obama for a constellation of reasons, but my pro-life commitment was at or near the top of the list. As a Christian, I simply cannot vote for a pro-choice candidate in good conscience; quite frankly, I don’t see how any other Christian, whether young or old, could do the same under any circumstances.
To an extent, I share the concern younger evangelicals have for addressing a broader array of issues, including environmentalism and socio-economic justice. Surely, such concerns have biblical warrant — and when pressed with solid scriptural evidence to that effect, I imagine most older evangelicals would be forced to agree. I think the locus of the division between evangelicals of younger and older stripes centers on how we address these biblical concerns in actual practice.
This is where certain sectors of evangelicalism have gone badly awry in more recent days (e.g., the alliance of Rick Warren, Jack Hayford, et al with climate change alarmists). For example, I have always felt that if anybody is going to be an environmentalist, it ought to be a Christian. But Christian environmentalism would necessarily look different than the colloquial environmentalism typically espoused by closet Marxists and pantheists who proceed from decidedly unbiblical, anti-Christian worldviews. Conversely, Christian environmentalism would speedily lose both its meaning and its impact if believers merely link arms with existing movements in an attempt to be relevant or to demonstrate that the American Church is politically sensitive beyond traditional hotbutton issues.
Certainly, Christians need to be willing to address the breadth of ills that plague our culture. Let’s just be sure that we do it in a way that comports with the Living Truth we steward. Otherwise, we will fall short of being salt and light — good intentions notwithstanding.
On that note, I think younger evangelicals who heartily supported Obama need to ponder the following questions: Do you think it pleases or displeases God that you voted for a presidential candidate who believes the wanton destruction of countless unborn children is legally protected behavior? And, given that we serve the Lord of Life who calls us to defend those unjustly sentenced to death, what other social justice issues are deserving of higher consideration when you cast your vote?
Blessings,
Rob
aka The MonT-SteR
On salt and light
0Our small group spent two weeks studying the passages in all three of the Synoptic Gospels where Jesus refers to His followers as the “salt of the earth” and “light of the world” (see Matthew 5:1-16, Mark 9:33-50, and Luke 14:25-35).
We found that our working definition of what it is to be salt and light tends to be woefully shallow and one-dimensional.
I attempted to synthesize the issues raised by all three passages into a summary statement. While this is definitely more expansive than the typical definition you’ll get from your average Joe Christian, it isn’t by any means exhaustive.
Give it a read — and let me know what you think:
Before God, we are spiritually impoverished and in desperate need of His cleansing touch. In response, we pursue God and His righteousness by mourning our sins and dealing ruthlessly with our sinful tendencies — for God will not brook split allegiances.
Before one another, we adopt a posture of openheartedness — an eagerness to freely and peaceably receive, serve, and minister to one another in Christ’s name, and a recognition that worldly hierarchicalism in all its forms is a prideful and bitter poison that has no place amongst Jesus’ followers.
Before the world, we walk not in the brash, self-righteous flamboyance of the pointed finger or the upturned nose, but with mercy, with the kind of winsome, gentle, fervent devotion to God that speaks far better than mere words can. And when the world rejects or seeks to hurt us for this, we humbly entrust ourselves to God, being counted among those of whom the world was not worthy.
Blessings,
Rob
aka The MonT-SteR
They’re playing my song…
1Stumbled across this late last night, and wanted to share. I’ve always regarded this to be one of the most beautiful, soulful Christian songs written in more modern times.
There was nobody like Keith Green…
Blessings,
Rob
aka The MonT-SteR
His Eyes
0That is the title and refrain of a Steven Curtis Chapman song that has ministered to me deeply over the years.
Some of the lyrics I love most:
Sometimes His voice comes calling
Like rolling thunder
Or like driving rain
And sometimes His voice is quiet
And we start to wonder
If He knows our pain
But He who spoke peace to the water
Cares more for our hearts than the waves
In the days ahead, the Chapman family will need to abide in the conviction that God does indeed quell storms and quiet hearts. I saw a late-breaking story tonight describing how their youngest adopted daughter was struck and killed by an SUV that was being driven by an older brother. It all happened in their driveway and, from what I’ve read, the whole family witnessed the horrific event.
Please keep them in prayer. My own prayer is that, amidst their grief, they are aware of His eyes, His hands, His comforting touch upon them.
Blessings,
Rob
aka The MonT-SteR