Daniel Darling's Blog, page 79

If we are all priests, then this is our calling:

Martin Luther, in his commentary on 1 Peter 2, writes this about the implication Peter’s declaration that all believers are priests:

A priest must be God’s messenger and must have a command from God to proclaim His Word. You must, says Peter, exercise the chief function of a priest, that is, to proclaim the wonderful deed God has performed for you to bring you out of darkness into the light. And your preaching should be done in such a way that one brother proclaims the mighty deed of God to the other, how you have been delivered through Him from sin, hell, death, and all misfortune, and have been called to eternal life. Thus you should also teach other people how they, too, come into such light. For you must bend every effort to realize what God has done for you. Then let it be your chief work to proclaim this publically and to call everyone into the light, which you have been called. Where you find people who do not know this, you should instruct and also teach them as you have learned, namely, how one must be saved through the power and strength of God and come out of darkness into the light.

Luther’s Works (American Edition), Volume 30, “The Catholic Epistles” pp 65

God’s Adjustment Bureau

Several years ago, I sat with a trusted counselor, seeking wisdom on how best to counsel a friend crushed under the weight of his upbringing in an abusive home. With tears, I poured out my frustrations at my friend’s parents, whose hypocrisy and heavy-handedness had warped the soul of their son. The counselor’s response reset my thinking and adjusted my theology.

The counselor told me, “Dan, his parents caused grave spiritual and mental anguish. And yet you must know that God is not in Heaven today questioning Himself for placing this boy in that home.” Those were not words I wanted to hear. But he continued. “As hard as it is, he must come to the place where he accepts the sovereignty and goodness of God in his situation.”

My response was to create a list of abuses.

What if he had been shown a little love?

What if they had nurtured his creative side?

What if he’d been put in a good school?

What if they gave him some sense of acceptance and belonging?

The what-ifs rolled off my tongue in rapid succession. The gray-haired, wise old counselor waited and then responded with gentle grace:

“Dan, I wish, too, that those things would have happened for your friend. It would have made his life less challenging, wouldn’t it? Yet, here’s the important thing. They didn’t happen. Apparently the life you sketched out for him, that you think would have been the most ideal, was not the life God intended. You will only help him as you show him how God employs the unfair hardships of this world to shape a man’s soul—if only he will allow God to do that work.”

Over the years I’ve reflected on that conversation. It marked a seminal point in my understanding about God and about life. Academically I’d always believed in the sovereignty of God. But those seemingly abstract concepts matter in the black and blue of real life pain.

I’m continually drawn to the biblical narrative of Joseph, whose story is a real-life Adjustment Bureau, only with better theology. Born the favorite son of a Jacob, Joseph was raised in a highly dysfunctional home. His father was a worshipper of Jehovah, yet he had multiple wives, a passive-aggressive leadership style, and a habit of cruel favoritism. By the time Joseph reached the formative years, he would be the target of hatred by his brothers. His brothers could do nothing about Dad, so they executed their vengeance on Joseph. Ultimately, they kidnapped and nearly killed their brother, selling him like merchandise to a traveling band of merchants who sold him into Egypt, where he would do nothing but serve others. He went from the privileged son of a wealthy landowner to an immigrant slave in Egypt.

The highlight of this story is that Joseph rises to the top leadership position in Egypt. His journey has given hope to millions over the ages, as we watch God help him along a rocky path from servitude and injustice to leadership. But buried in his epic is a powerful nugget of theology that helps us cultivate a fresh intimacy with God from a messy past.

In Genesis 50:20, Joseph is surveying his entire life, his reconciliation with his family long since completed. By now, he has provided his father and brothers a comfortable new lifestyle in Egypt. And yet the fear of retaliation by Joseph, now a powerful political figure, lingered in the minds of the siblings. They wondered if or when Joseph would use his power to exact revenge on them. Joseph dispels this by sharing a perspective about God that would become the guiding principle of his life:

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today. Genesis 50:20 (ESV)

Notice the lack of regret or bitterness in Joseph’s words? He could have easily rattled off a long list of “what if’s” and “if onlys.”

What if Dad hadn’t been so passive?

What if the brothers would have let me explain myself?

What if Dad had given them a bit more fatherly affirmation?

But Joseph doesn’t have this backtrack. He had long buried the futile quest to rewrite the scenes in his life script over which he had little control. Instead, he prevailed upon the character of God. Looking back on his chaotic home life, the betrayal by his brothers, the injustice in Potiphar’s house, the lonely languishing in a foreign prison—he saw all of these, not as unfortunate injustices, but as tools in the hand of a loving and sovereign God.

The sin and evil of others brought about good, not simply in Joseph’s life but in the lives of God’s people. Joseph’s story continued Jehovah’s promise to grow the family of Abraham. In Egypt, Joseph’s family would flourish, growing into a nation through whom the Messiah, Jesus, would be born.

Joseph learned that God was more powerful than an abusive and dysfunctional upbringing. God was bringing purpose out of the messy details of Joseph’s life. God wasn’t caught off guard by the injustice in his young man’s life.

And so it is with you and me.

The truth is that all of us have some regret about our upbringing, even those like me who hail from fairly safe, normal households with biblically functional Christian parents. The reason is that our parents, our pastors, coaches, youth leaders, and Sunday school teachers—each is a sinner with unique sins and weaknesses. None of us grew up in Eden. So we can easily pick apart our life story and find areas we wish might have gone differently. But this is an exercise in futility, because the past is the past. It’s set in concrete and cannot be changed.

 

However, God is not like the Chairman in The Adjustment Bureau, with good intentions that often go bad. There won’t be a day

We may not understand this aspect of God’s character and we don’t get to choose our spiritual heritage. But we do have a choice of how we react to the good and bad parts of growing up Christian. We can spend our lives cursing an unchanging past or we can where He will nod his head and say, “Yes, you were right. Things should have worked out differently.”

Furthermore, God isn’t surprised by the injustices we suffer. He’s not in Heaven beating fist against head in frustration over the way your life or my life or anyone’s life has played out. Somehow, in ways we don’t fully understand, God weaves the good and bad choices of men to fulfill His ultimate purposes.

move forward with forgiveness and faith. Faith in the goodness of God who transforms our afflictions from a source of sorrow to a fountain of joy.

Excerpted from  Real, Owning Your Christian Faith

What Pastoring Taught Me About Spiritual Growth

As a lifelong Christian, I’ve always known the importance of spiritual growth. But when I became a pastor, suddenly my ideas about this were bigger than simply what was going on in my life. As an undershepherd of God’s people, now the spiritual growth of other people is my concern. You could argue that this should have been my concern all along, since every follower of Jesus is tasked with discipleship. But as a pastor, this is a primary job description.

What surprised me is how much I learned about what growth actually looks like. Here are five ways in which pastoring shaped my views:

1) Everybody doesn’t grow like I grow.  Subconsciously, we use our own lives as the template for growth and maturity. I do this because I’m the person I know the most. But I’ve learned that my growth process is unique to me and I shouldn’t force that onto another follower of Christ. God designed each of us uniquely with differing circumstances, gift mixes, talents, and missions. There are basic elements of spirituality that apply to all believers, but they unfold and look different on different people. As a pastor, I can frustrate someone’s walk with God by continually making them try to do like me when their real model should be Christ. Ultimately I should want my people to become the people God wants them to be rather than who I, in my fallen imagination, desire them to be. (By the way, this is essential in parenting.)

2) I can’t actually produce spiritual growth in anyone, including myself. There is a role for a pastor to encourage, provoke, push, love, pray, and teach his people. There is a role for this for every follower of Christ. But the role of a Christian is simply that: to influence. Only the Holy Spirit can produce growth in someone. I can’t do that. I can’t even make myself grow. There is a reason Galatians 5:22 says that the characteristics like love, joy, peace, gentleness, goodness, etc are “fruits of the Spirit.” The point is that the Holy Spirit takes the Word of God and changes a person’s heart. That’s work I can’t do. What I can do is influence, love, encourage, confront, and pray. I can also get in the way of the Spirit. I can frustrate someone because they are not growing according to my timetable or my template for them. I have found that often the best tool I have in “getting someone to change,” is simple prayer. I’ve seen more growth in people when I’ve closed my mouth, stop stressing, and just got on my knees.

3) There are seasons of growth for every person. There are seasons of planting, seasons of tilling the ground, seasons of watering, and seasons of harvest in a person’s soul. There are years of bountiful growth and there are years of famine. Don’t you see this in your own life? I do. This was especially illuminated for my by Mark Buchanan’s excellent book, Spiritual Rhythm. It’s a worthy read if only to make you more aware of the rhythms of spiritual growth. This means that as a pastor, I should know in what season of a person’s life to push and what season to wait for the hard to work fully take root in the soil. And, I must trust the Lord of the Harvest, that his timing is much better than my rushed impatience. Interestingly, I’ve found I’m much more impatient with other’s spiritual growth than mine. All this impatience has down is stunt other’s progression. I don’t want to do that.

4) Spiritual maturity is manifested in ways that are not always visible. Because we are an impatient people, we often create man-made lists for what spiritual growth looks like. The lists look different from church to church or denomination to denomination. It could be the type of haircut or the language someone uses or the types of media they consume. But real fruit, the Scripture says, is internal. Things that can’t be developed in a weekend or at the barber shop. Traits like love, joy, gentleness, goodness, peace, temperance, etc. The best things for us to do as pastors and influencers and disciple-makers is to help someone cultivate their inner life with Christ, not measure someone’s progress by external, extra-biblical checklists.

5) Sometimes I’m not the best person to nurture someone’s spiritual growth. This can be a matter of pride. For me, I wanted to be the one that new Christian pointed to as the key to their spiritual growth. I wanted to have a leading role in the story. But God has the leading role, not me. He’s much better at that role than I am. So my job as pastor is to let go of myself and serve in any way I can. Sometimes that’s active discipleship. Other times I need to point them to a book that can profoundly shape them. Or it could be as simple as pointing them to another person much more suited to their spiritual needs. In other words, I have to admit that there may be a better person or resource for their spiritual growth than me. When I do this, I allow God to do His work and I get out of the way.

 

 

Is there something wrong with our love?

I’ve been preaching through the book of 1 Peter for our Exiles series at church on Sunday mornings. It’s a powerful book. Just this Sunday I preached on 1 Peter 1:22-25 where Peter calls the church to a deep kind of love. What struck me most about this chapter is a simple, seemingly throwaway line, in the middle of verse 22. Peter says simply that the object of our love is to be “the brethren.” In other words, the gospel in us, the new life of Christ, should make us burst with love for fellow Christians. And this is not the first time this is mentioned in the New Testament. Over and over and over again we are told that Christians should have a special love for our brothers and sisters in the Lord. In Peter’s letter, he says this should be a “fervent” love. This implies a stretching, at-all-costs-exhaustive love from the heart.

I wonder, though, if we Christians are any good at doing this. It seems that most of our love, our outreach programs, everything is motivated by a love for those who don’t know the Lord–the unsaved, the lost. And this is important and good. This is our mission in the Great Commission. We should weep with love for the lost on their way to a Christless eternity.

But this love for the lost shouldn’t come at the expense of love for the brethren. In fact, Jesus said that love for the brethren would be the very thing that attracts those lost to Him (John 13:35). The purpose of the Church is to be a called-out community of Christ’s own who love each other with a deep and abiding and supernatural love that is unseen in the world.

But does that characterize us? I’m amazed at how often we get it exactly backwards. We say things like, “I don’t care what those other Christians think, I’m busy loving the unlovable and the lost.” Or we dismiss critique by other believers with a shrug. I heard a famous pastor recently say something like, “Well, God didn’t call me to listen to my critics. I’m called to preach the gospel.” Well, yeah, but aren’t you called to love first and deepest your fellow Christians?” I think of this when I read and survey blogs, magazines, and other content that mocks other Christians. Blogs that rip overly conservative Christians or blogs that rip some of the more crazy contemporary ideas. Or blogs whose sole purpose is to rip, denigrate, and attack those who don’t see it quit their way. I think this about commentators who make cheap rhetorical points by ripping other Christians in the secular media. As if they want to say, “I’m not one of those uncool Christians. Look at me.” The problem with this approach is that you are called to love that uncool Christian fervently. 

The entire context of 1 Peter implies that the gospel transforms the way we love. The deeper we dive in, the greater our capacity to love the way Jesus loves. What convicts me is that a lack of love for fellow believers is a signal of something deeper in my heart. My inability to love my brother or sister in the Lord is a signal that God has more work to do inside of me.

Your Jehoida Moment

Few have entered the world with such a dramatic story as Joash. Born in the midst of a bloody revolution in the Southern Kingdom of Judah, Joash barely escaped the edge of the sword wielded by his Grandmother, Athalia. Athalia was a ruthless monarch, who clawed her way to the throne after her husband’s death by murdering nearly every male heir.. But her royal and bloody ambitions conflicted with God’s promise to preserve the bloodline of King David. Unbeknownst to Queen Athalia, a courageous woman, Jehosheba and her husband, the priest Jehoiada, hide baby Joash, the last remaining heir, in a hidden room in the Temple, where they covertly raised him for six years. When Joash turned seven, Athalia was defeated in a military coup and Joash was crowned king.

Joash began his reign with great promise. Preserved by God for this moment, he led necessary reforms in Judah. For most of his tenure, he wisely adhered to the biblical guidance of his uncle, Jehoiada, the nation’s spiritual leader.

But after his uncle died, Joash’s faith collapsed and the child of promise became an enemy of God’s people. In the last years of his reign, Joash allowed Judah to pursue false idols; he participated in the lynching of a prophet, and was eventually killed by his own advisors.

The one line bio offered in 2 Chronicles shares the tragic reality of Joash’s unfulfilled life:

And Joash did what was right in the eyes of the LORD all the days of Jehoiada the priest. 2 Chronicles 24:2 (ESV)

Joash did was right in the eyes of the Lord, as long as his mentor, Jehoiada was around. But when the priest passed from the scene, Joash’s faith was found to be empty, even nonexistent. And the last years of his life were so full of wickedness that they eclipsed the good work of his earlier life. The Scriptures tell us that Joash was not even buried among the great kings of Judah (2 Chronicles 24:25).

Joash’s life is a cautionary tale for those born with such promise. Jesus reminds us that a heritage alone doesn’t guarantee spiritual success. “To whom much is given,” he said, “Much is required” (Luke 12:48). Joash was given great tools for spiritual impact, but failed to personally wrestle with the faith and accept it as his own. This hand-me-down approach failed him in the end.

If you’ve grown up in church, you can be sure that you will, in some season of our life, face a “Jehoiada Moment,” where you will be forced to decide what it is that you believe. That moment may be in the University classroom with a hostile professor. It may be in a private moment with an attractive coed. It may be when you become a parent and have an innocent set of eyes staring back up at you. It may be in the boardroom as the pressure to make a deal overwhelms the ethics of your Christian upbringing.

At some point you’ll have to dig deep and ask yourself, what is it that I actually believe?  Not what you’re parents taught you to believe or what your pastor preached or what your campus leader encouraged you to know. You must have you’re own encounter with the risen Christ, appropriating the truth of Scripture to your heart.

What is interesting to me is how long Joash survived with a hand-me-down faith. From all appearances, he seemed to be on track to becoming one of Judah’s great kings. But it seems as if Jehoiada was pulling the spiritual strings. The Scripture is pretty sparse on the details of Joash’s life, but it seems as if he had no personal quest for godly wisdom, no intellectual and spiritual curiosity. He was content to merely coast on the devotion of his uncle. His was a stale, borrowed faith.

It’s easy and comfortable to live the Joash life, isn’t it? To settle for a spoon-fed spiritual diet, scraping out a lowest-common-denominator Christianity, pursuing the minimum level of engagement with truth and doctrine. But this is dead, lifeless religion that collapses under the weight of life’s many challenges.

The writer of Hebrews compares such spiritual laxity to the eating habits of young children. I’m the father of four young kids, including a baby girl, Lilly Mae, who is under a year old. Like the rest of our children, we started Lilly off with simple milk in a bottle. We have formula designed specifically to meet her nutritional needs. But as she grows, her digestive system is ready for more solid foods. Soon, like the rest of our children, she’ll be eating chicken and bread and ice cream and hot dogs. But imagine, if in a couple of years, she is still receiving her primary nutrition from a baby bottle. Something would be tragically wrong. We’d consult every pediatrician and consultant in the country to find the problem with her digestive system.

It’s much the same with Christianity. A new believer needs to absorb the “milk” of the word, in smaller doses and easily digestible forms. But the goal is to spiritually grow. The writer of Hebrews says that there are some followers of Christ who are still sucking milk from a bottle, when they should be knocking down the “steak” of God’s Word.

For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, (Hebrews 5:12 ESV)

Excerpted from Real, Owning Your Christian Faith.

Peggy Noonan on Abortion

This is a memorable quote from the always eloquent Peggy Noonan:

The Democratic Party is the party of abortion; it supports the widest possible interpretation of choice, and is heavily funded, literally, by the abortion industry. Abortion involves the killing of children. Sometimes Democrats speak of it, publicly, in such a way that it sounds like a small thing, a tooth extraction; sometimes they speak of it in a way that suggests it is a holy right, a high value, a good thing.

Read more here: Noonans Blog: The Democrats Rally – Peggy Noonans Blog – WSJ.

5 Ways Pastors Can Encourage Working Men and Women

Yesterday America celebrated Labor Day, the holiday reserved as a tribute to American workers. This is a good time to discuss ways pastors and vocational ministry leaders can encourage working men and women in their congregations. This is an oft-neglected, but essential part of ministry, because most Christians who attend church on Sunday don’t draw a paycheck from a Christian organization. They have to get up on Monday morning and perform in the so-called “secular” workforce. Those of us privileged to do so-called Christian work for a living don’t always understand the pressures of the American workforce. So here are five ways pastors can encourage the laity:

1) Read Work Matters by Tom Nelson. Every pastor should read this book, which gives a thorough theology of the oft-neglected doctrine of vocation. Pastors should be able to articulate this in their preaching and counseling. Most Christians don’t understand that the actual work they do in the workplace matters to God. Their role as a plumber or bank teller or lawyer isn’t simply a means to tithe money or be a witness. God is intimately invested in the quality of work produced by our hands. Good work bring glory to the Creator. Reading Work Matters can help you form a theology of work which will in turn help you encourage the men and women in your church to think biblically about their God-given callings.

2) Repent of dividing clergy and laity. All of us in professional pastoral ministry, at some times, have elevated the so-called full-time positions of pastor/teacher/youth pastor/worship leader above the supposed lesser callings like carpenter, fast-food worker or CEO. But Scripture makes no such distinctions. Sure, spiritual leaders bear a sober responsibility, but their work is no more noble than that of the faithful lay person who performs his work to the glory of God. In fact, those who work in secular vocations are arguably on the mission field longer than pastors, because they interface with more unchurched. They are in situations that force them to practice godliness in workplaces largely hostile to Christian values. Rather than treating them like second-class citizens, we should honor the faithfulness of Christian laity by equipping them for their mission, affirming their callings, and encouraging them to faithfulness.

3) Start Connecting Sunday to Monday. We need to infuse our sermons with more illustration and application to Monday. We need to remind the administrator who dreads facing that Monday budget meeting that he is not there simply to collect a paycheck. He is there as God’s representative in his workplace, as a light in the darkness, as a molder and shaper of those in his employ. We need to encourage the stay-at-home mom that her long days of changing diapers, grocery shopping and administering teething drops has a purpose beyond survival. We need to identify with the struggles of those who go in to work every day and are often beaten down by surly bosses, unethical coworkers, and tough working conditions.

4) Reward Faithfulness In the Workplace. I’m not quite sure how to do this, but somehow we need to acknowledge those who work their jobs with integrity and faithfulness. We often reward and celebrate achievements that happen at church–and we should–but what if we publicly acknowledged the teacher who celebrates 30 years in the classroom or the employee who has a faithful attendance record at work or the police officer who is rewarded for community service?

5) Get to Know the Struggles of the Working Man or Woman. The best way I’ve found to help encourage the working man or woman in my church is to simply find out more about what their days are like. Ask questions about their jobs, probe a bit and see what struggles they face everyday, what issues can you pray for? I’ve found people really enjoy when I ask them specific questions about their vocations–how they got to where they are, what they enjoy about it, how their businesses work, etc. This also helps me pray better as well. And it makes me grateful for the job I do as pastor. I often tell people, “I’m not sure I could do your job. It sounds way harder than mine.” Knowing the day-to-day struggles of the people you serve helps you appreciate their contribution, not only to your church, but to the community.

5 Attitudes Toward Someone With Whom You Disagree

We live in a generally uncivil world (because we are fallen creatures) and we are in the midst of an uncivil season (Campaign 2012). I don’t buy the idea that this is the “most negative campaign we’ve ever had.” One only needs to read biographies of the American founders (unless written by David Barton) to realize the human capacity to savage one another was alive and well in the golden years of America’s founding. Still, technologies, the proliferation of campaign spending, and the insidious, but effective tool of dishonest 30-second TV ads all add to a very uncivil culture.

For Christians, it can be difficult to know how to engage in an uncivil culture and in an uncivil season. On the one hand we want to stand boldly for truth, speaking prophetically to our culture and wisely steward our rare gift of shaping our government. On the other, we’re commanded by Scripture to comport ourselves differently. So how do we do this? Here are five principles from the Scripture that helps us adopt grace-filled attitudes toward those with whom we vehemently disagree:

1) Love Your Neighbor As Yourself (Mark 12:31). At the very least your political opponent, whether it’s the President, someone in the other party, your opinionated relative, or the blogger who has it all wrong–that person is your neighbor. And we are to love our neighbors, not with a sort of grudging foot-dragging love, but “as yourself.” In other words, you are to treat them with the same respect you would want to be treated. How does this play out in the public square? Well I think it means we argue principles without making it personal. It means we give them the benefit of the doubt. 1 Corinthians 13 says that one of the definitions of love is that it “believes all things and hopes all things.” In other words, we can oppose someone politically without thinking they are part of some evil, Machiavellian scheme to make our lives miserable.

2) Love Your Enemies (Matthew 5:43-48). I think viewing a political opponent as an “enemy” might be too strong, but let’s just assume that for a moment, on the issues about which you care, he or she is your enemy. For instance, I think it could be honestly said that most liberals are adversaries of the pro-life position that I hold. So how does Jesus’ words to love them apply? Well, I’m suppose to love them with the fullest definition of love. I can oppose what they stand for without ridiculing the person or mocking them or their families. I love my political adversaries by speaking only what I know to be true about them. I means I see any good and redeeming values in them and pray for them.

3) Honor the King (1 Peter 2:17). Peter wrote these words to a church about to endure four decades of brutal persecution at the hands of Roman oppressors. And yet Peter writes, “Show proper respect to everyone, Fear God, Honor the King.” If this seems difficult to do under leaders who might oppose biblical values, imagine how difficult it was for Christian citizens of Rome. But it’s made easier with the middle words of that phrase, “Fear God.” Romans 13 reminds us that nobody is in power except those God anoints and puts in power. So, you can show proper respect to a political adversary because you acknowledge the sovereignty of God and you affirm that even your enemy was created in God’s image. And therefore you can honor a political leader because in doing so you’re honoring the God who put him or her there. I think the words, “respect” and “honor” give us a good grid for how we should make political arguments. We can forcefully oppose unjust, unwise, or unbiblical policies without resorting to name-calling, mockery, and slander. In doing this, I think Christians set themselves apart. Think of men like Nehemiah, Daniel, and Joseph who served wicked monarchs and still always showed proper respect to the office.

4) Pray for Your Leaders (1 Timothy 2:2). There are not many specifics in the New Testament about Christian political activism. I might point to Jesus’s words in Matthew 5:13-16, Jesus prayer in John 17 and Paul’s appeal in Romans 10 for the necessity of Christians to shape culture at all levels (including political and governmental). But the one very specific instruction regarding Christians and their leaders is the command to pray for them. We Christians (myself the most guilty) seem to have it backward. We treat activism as a necessity and prayer for our leaders as an option. We should do both. We should pray and watch, pray and build, pray and act. But we must never diminish prayer. We must pray for our President, our Congress, our Governors, our statehouses, our mayors, our local leaders. Public service is a difficult calling. I like what Max Lucado is doing this year to gather Christians to pray during this election season.

5) Speak with Grace (Colossians 4:6). Paul writes to the church at Colosse, “Let your conversation be always full of grace.” This verse really convicts me, because I now that my speech is not always marked by grace. Especially in election season. Especially when I’m all wound up with an opinion or idea about someone with whom I disagree. But followers of Jesus should be marked by grace. This means that what we post, what we say, what we discuss should run through the prism of grace. How is graceful speech different than ordinary speech? It flows from a heart humbled by God’s forgiveness. It considers the human behind the argument. It tries not to divide, but to unite. It grounds every argument in the gospel story. Graceful speech doesn’t post angry, half-truth, slanderous opinions on Facebook. Graceful speech doesn’t support distorted 30 second TV ads. Graceful speech is open to new arguments, admits wrongs, and doesn’t assume that it’s right all the time.

Summary: This is not a complete or exhaustive list, just a few ideas about living out the gospel during political season and beyond. Christians can be both civil and engaged, full of grace and yet firm in support of truth.

The Echo Chamber of Leadership

Unless you were living under a rock (in which case I envy you, actually), you read, heard, or watched the brouhaha surrounding Missouri Senate candidate Todd Akin, a staunchly prolife candidate who conflated issues of rape with abortion. What he said on TV was not only horrific, it offended a lot of people and essentially the entire conservative movement has abandoned him.

There’s a lot of lessons to be learned in Mr. Akin’s fall. One is that it matters not simply that we have the right positions, but that we articulate them well in the public square. Words do matter. But there’s another lesson I think we can learn from Mr. Akin’s foibles.

My friend, Matt Lewis, a political writer for the Daily Caller, says this incident may not have happened had Todd Akin had some experienced political hands around him to prevent this sort of public debacle. But apparently, the Akin campaign is run by the Akin family. And so there is an echo chamber of leadership. Writes Matt:

It’s dangerous to live in a bubble — or be surrounded by “yes” men. No matter how important you are, you always want someone around who can tell you “the emperor has no clothes on.”

A little while later he writes of the value of having people who don’t know you and who are willing to criticize:

Qualifications aside, the problem with family is that they tend to love you. They might even revere and respect you. That’s good in a son or daughter or wife, but not in a campaign manager or adviser.

What you want is someone who is a little bit dispassionate — someone who can say: “Hey, I heard what you said during that interview taping. It was dumb. My candidate in ’04 said something similar. We need to clean this up.”

There’s a tendency in Christian leadership circles to sort of emulate this “family first” mentality. And on the one hand, it’s perfectly legitimate to have sons or daughters serve prominent roles in a ministry, if they are qualified. Typically ministry gifts and talents continue from generation to generation. And yet, like Matt, I’ve seen the danger in exclusively having family or friends surrounding the leadership. It just creates a dangerous bubble that prevents healthy introspection or organizational course correction. It also can blind a leader to his own flaws.

Better to have at least a few people in the leadership circle who are able and willing to sometimes offer constructive criticism, without fear of retribution. I’ve learned this with my work and ministry. For instance, I send every manuscript I write to a few people who I know will “beat it up.” Not only have I given them permission, I request that they do it. Why? Because I know back pats and smiley faces on my paper won’t get my writing up to the level it needs to be to inspire the reader.

I try to do this in my leadership at GLBC as well. I want my leadership team to offer healthy criticism. I like this for three reasons: 1) Sometimes my ideas are bad and need to be shot down. 2) I’m blind to my own flaws. 3) I don’t have all the good ideas or good judgement or good wisdom.

I’m guessing this wasn’t Todd Akin’s first verbal gaffe, but perhaps his being surrounded by family kept him from hearing from an aide, long ago “Hey, dude, you can’t say that.” Had he been challenged in a private conversation, he might have avoided this epic meltdown. And so it is with our leadership. The presence of those who disagree with us, who are willing to correct our mistakes saves us from large-scale mistakes down the road.

 

Wanted: 10 Book Bloggers

I’m continually working to get the word out about my book, Real, Owning Your Christian Faith. I really believe in the message of this book: that those who grew up in the faith are as desperate for God as those who haven’t. So, I’m looking for ten bloggers willing to blog about my book this way:

1) Write a substantive review and/or

2) Conduct an interview with me

3) Send at least two-three messages on social networks like Facebook and Twitter

Now, I have some qualifications to ensure the message gets out in a timely fashion and to a wide swath of readers:

You must be a regular blogger, which means you post something at least two times a week. 
You must have a decent following on social networks. You don’t have to have a million followers, but a least a few hundred. 
You need to post a review and/or interview by the middle of September.
You don’t have to, but are welcome to use the book trailer found on this page. 

So, if you’re game for this, please send an email to me through my contact page here.