Does Your Desire for Correction Outweigh Your Compassion?

Does your desire for correction outweigh your compassion? Does your passion for right belief overpower your ability to simply be present with someone who is in pain and just needs to be listened to?

These are sobering questions.

A couple of weeks ago, the weight of them really hit me as I listened to one of my closest friends describe the anguish he felt, yet again, as he shared one of the most painful and traumatic experiences of his life with another person, only to be met with a quick and sharp critique of his underlying theology, rather than a compassionate and gentle ear that understood his need simply to be heard.

This is all too common.

As he shared this encounter, I recalled how many times in the past I’ve also experienced the pain of sharing vulnerably, but instead of being listened to, the other person rushed to correct some part of what I said instead of tending to my wound.

On the other hand, I also realized how many times I was the friend who critiqued, even accused the person I was “listening” to, eagerly awaiting an opportunity to interject correction, instead of discerning whether that was the time for correction, or if I simply needed to sit and be present with the person in pain.

I think this is a typical “churched” person response—and a response, sadly, that I think the world has often come to expect from Christians.

James writes, “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires” (James 1:19-20, NIV [italics added]).

When we do the opposite of this and are slow to listen and quick to speak, for some reason, our sense of rightness seems to become more easily offended and inflamed. Then we seek to correct, not because that will necessarily be most helpful, but because our tendency to fixate on ourselves will cause us to prioritize what we want to share—our own knowledge—rather than focus on the actual person in need.

We see this mentality displayed in the Pharisees who were more concerned with doing work on the sabbath than healing the sick and aiding those in need.

I once heard Bill Johnson say something along these lines in one of his sermons: “The righteous will try to prove their zeal for rightness by showing how [adamantly] opposed to sin they are.” That’s profound. And, in conversations like the one my friend was in, I think that’s exactly what we do.

It’s probably unlikely that any of us do this because we have been taught explicitly to listen poorly as soon as we hear someone’s painful story underpinned by theological error in their perspective. I anticipate that this issue is the result of something “caught, not taught”; i.e., something we observe in other people’s behavior and then put into practice ourselves, often subconsciously.

Context is important here too. I’m not saying that correction is unimportant, or that it doesn’t have a place in the Christian life. I’m also not saying that we should openly embrace the potentially heretical things we might hear for the sake of being nice, whether we are conversing with an individual or a group of people. But listening to a teacher spew poor doctrine or theology and listening to someone who might have broken understanding as a result of the very experience they are sharing is a far cry from being one and the same.

And listening poorly, even if unintentional, is ultimately an act of selfishness disguised as good intention and advice. In other words, the principle of the matter becomes more important for us to uphold than carrying the weight of the person’s pain with them. (See Galatians 6:2 regarding “bear[ing] one another’s burdens.”)

Paul makes this bold and humbling declaration in Philippians 2:1-4:

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others.


The model of Jesus’s life shows something so contrary to what we often do.

Over and over in the Gospels, before we hear him utter the words “repent” and “go and sin no more” (or in conjunction with them), we see him engaging with people in such a way that their pain, trauma, sin, and brokenness is not dismissed, diminished, sprinted past, or ignored: Christ was present with them, and He listened. He recognized their humanity, the very parts of their being that were in need of His saving grace.

Jesus wasn’t uncomfortable with pain.

Apart from his own physical, emotional, and spiritual suffering, Jesus was well acquainted with grief and hurt. In John 11 when He sees Mary, the sister of Lazarus and others weeping, the text says “he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” Then, even knowing that He would soon raise Lazarus to life, “Jesus wept” (v. 35).

He cried with and comforted those who were grieving.

With the woman at the well In John 4, before Jesus speaks to her about the 5 husbands she had had and the man she was unmarried to but currently living with, He offers to her His gift of living water that only He could provide.

With the woman caught in adultery in John 8 (which is a disputed text, I know), Jesus comes to her rescue, saves her from being stoned, and then commissions her to “…leave [her] life of sin” (John 8:11, NIV).

In Christ’s encounter with Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector in Luke 19, Jesus asks to come to the man’s home, an engagement of deep intimacy in Jewish culture. This was a man the people scoffed at as Jesus made this request of him, saying, “He [Jesus] has gone to be the guest of a sinner” (v. 7).

On the flip side, we also know that Jesus didn’t turn away from conflict: He regularly chastised the Pharisees, admonished His disciples, and corrected others that He encountered in His journey. He brought the truth. He was and is the Truth. So the point isn’t that Jesus didn’t address sin or wrong belief; that was one of His chief purposes. He simply chose the right time and opportunity for correction, and so should we.

We even see this displayed in the story of Job.

In chapter one of the Book of Job, a story filled with some of the most pain, anguish, and trauma imaginable, when Job’s friends come to him in the midst of all his agony, before they enter into their famous dialogue with him about sin and righteousness (and remember God Himself refers to Job as “blameless and upright” at the beginning of the story in v. 9), before uttering a single word, they sit with him for seven days and and seven nights “because they saw how great his suffering was” (v. 13).

Even Job’s friends didn’t rush their words; even they sat with their friend in pain and “mourned with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15).


Conclusion

A major part of what underlies this problem is that we are simply uncomfortable with pain. Human beings struggle so much with feeling that the value they add to a person’s life comes through what they can say, especially to those who are hurting. But the truth is, there is often so much more to be said for how we sit with those who are hurting than what we say to them.

The hard thing for us, too, is that sometimes our critique isn’t wrong, it’s just poorly timed.

In its healthy expressions, our inclination to correct—to want to help—isn’t a bad thing at all, but our timing is often premature. We know that the “the wounds of a friend can be trusted” (Proverbs 27:6), but the time for such correction should always be Spirit-led. If we are to account for and allow for the right time, we must be a people with a long-term perspective: we must “be about the journey” which enables us to see beyond the present moment.

So the next time you are sitting with someone who is sharing a painful story, with someone who is hurting and vulnerable, don’t allow your desire for correction to outweigh your compassion. Sit the with broken, as Jesus did, and bring correction as the Holy Spirit leads—in His time, not ours.

References:

Holy Bible: New International Version. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011.

Agreement Is Not a Prerequisite for Kindness

In our world full of differences—race and ethnicity, political parties, various views on sexuality and identity, heated debates about climate change (pun intended), differing theology and denominationalism, pop culture, etc.—it can be so easy to bracket ourselves into pockets of people with whom we agree, and staunchly separate ourselves from those with whom we disagree.

As a kid, I remember watching Mr. Rogers talk about how important kindness is, and how, though we may be different, we should all still be kind to one another. (I’m glad a movie about him will be here soon!)

Jesus took this much further, saying this:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You therefore must be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”

Matthew 5:43-48 ESV (italics added)

Jesus befriended sinners, sat with the lowly, wept with the grieving, and bound-up the broken hearted.

Jesus was kind.

Here’s a reminder, friends, to be kind to any and all who you come in contact with tomorrow—not just those with whom you agree.

P. S. Isn’t this flower beautiful? I love flowers! I had to stop and snap a photo of these beauties back in 2017 while in Tennessee.

P. P. S. Life hack for happiness: always stop and smell the roses! ??

References: 

Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Study Bible. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2011.

Be Faithful with Today

Be faithful with today. ⁣

It’s so easy to be overwhelmed by our to-do lists: what to do now, what to do later, what to add, and what to remove. ⁣

After years of existing in a state of always spiritually striving for what’s next, God, the kind and tender Father that He is, has brought me so much peace in teaching me to simply be faithful with today: to do what I can with the time that is given to me, and not resent my present moment in wishing for what might be next. ⁣

Carry and hold with open hands the things He has entrusted to you. ⁣

Learning to be good stewards of our time is a deeply profound lesson. Simple in knowing, yet difficult in application. ⁣

Be faithful with today, my friends. 

Church, Use Your Words of Influence with Reverence

Sometimes we forget that the purpose of our preaching is simple: to proclaim “Christ and him crucified”—to make God known to people, and to point those people toward Him, not ourselves. We forget that the power of the Gospel rests not in our words but in the Word of God, His story, and in the movement of His Spirit.

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The Statement of The Cross: Life Is Not About What We Deserve

Life is not about getting what we deserve. In Christ, it never has been and it never will be. Were it so, Jesus would not have died for our sins. He would not have hung on a cross in agony to pay the penalty of death due to us. He would not have freely and willingly given Himself unto a punishment that He never deserved. 

Life is not about what we deserve.


Over the years, many people have told me what they thought they deserved. Strangers, friends, and acquaintances have all expressed to me their grief for having cheated, stolen, killed, lied, manipulated, traumatized, abused, beaten, or been addicted to someone or something. They used the brokenness of their past and the things they had done to rationalize some kind of pain, affliction, or wrath that they were presently enduring or expected to receive in eternity from a Holy God.  

And in reality, they’re not wrong. Jesus didn’t have to die in our stead, and we certainly didn’t deserve it, but He did it anyway. I’m thankful that God doesn’t relate our worth or value in His eyes with our deservingness of what He gives.

Instead, God saw us all—each and every one of us—as worth being saved: not because of anything we’ve ever done or ever could do, but simply because of His great love.

“And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

Ephesians 2:1-9, English Standard Version

That last part is really important for us to remember. There is no number of spiritual acts that brings us into worthiness of what God has given or what He has withheld. Again, life isn’t about what we deserve. In fact, the grace that saves cannot be deserved by its very nature. Life and its fullness hinge on our response to a gracious God who freely gives that which we do not deserve: salvation through faith and by grace alone.


For a quite a while, I have been working on a piece about flippant, empty, ego-driven, and irreverent speech in the Church and calling for leaders and congregations alike to exercise their words of influence with reverence for both the God that we serve and the tremendous weight that words themselves carry. I’ve been working on and praying through, too, how to tackle both the big topics that I am inclined to and also the smaller, equally as important topics that can be written about hopefully more quickly as I want to share more frequently the content that I feel God is stirring in me.

I was just about to post what I’ve been working on, but I felt compelled and urged this Holy Week to share a word of encouragement before sharing a word of correction.


The idea of atonement and forgiveness and sin and worthiness and value and deserved outcome are theologically loaded terms and biblical concepts. I know that describing humanity as being “worthy” in the eyes of God to come and save us will irritate and frustrate the semantically-oriented critics. If you contest the notion of our worth in His eyes, read the most famous of all verses in the Bible, John 3:16. God’s love compelled Him to do what He did. His love ascribes and defines our worth, not our merit.

But I am not writing to those critics. I’m writing to you.

If you have ever grappled with a sense of feeling undeserving and unworthy of God’s presence because of what you have done, I have been there too. As a recovering addict of more than 10 years (which I am stoked to write more about soon to speak life into any hopelessness or isolation you feel), I can empathize with that pain, that guilt, that shame.

If you feel like you’re undeserving of His free gift of life and love and salvation, you’re right—you and I don’t deserve it—but God has given it anyway.

It doesn’t matter if you are or have been addicted, or stolen, or murdered, or raped, or aborted, or cheated, or lied, or manipulated, or abused, or beaten. You’re not too far off. You’re not too far gone. God still sees you, still wants you, and still loves you and desires a beautiful, freedom-filled relationship with Him through repentance and reconciliation.

This Holy Week, as we celebrate both the crucifixion on Good Friday and the resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday, know that God loves you and sees you right where you are. The cross of Christ has spoken. Its verdict: you are forgiven in and through Him. The life of Jesus and His interactions with people serve as a permanent reminder that life isn’t about what you or I deserve. No past, present, or future thing that you do can separate you from His love.

Life is not about what we deserve. It’s about what He has done for us.

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:38-39, ESV

References:

Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Study Bible. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2011.

Republicanism ≠ Christianity: Ending the Conflation of Christ’s Church with Political Party Affiliation

Christianity is not Republicanism. Republicanism is not Christianity. The two are not synonymous nor interchangeable: a person does not have to be one in order to be the other. Yet, that is largely the picture that is presented and believed both in and outside of the American Church today. This issue spans across the Catholic-Protestant divide but I think most specifically is present in the Protestant Evangelical Church. This problem needs to be called-out and needs correction.

Notice, I did not say that this idea is taught, written, or explicitly stated anywhere (although I know it is in some places), but I have observed that it is believed. Beliefs, even deeply held ones, can be fostered in the individual heart of a person and the collective heart of a people without ever being formally taught; sometimes these things are simply observed, felt, or understood without the influence of any explicit statement.

Christianity is also not synonymous with the Democratic Party, nor any other political party, nor being an American, nor patriotism, nor democracy itself. For too long, Christianity in America has been somehow confused with some element of being an American. In recent years in the U.S., the conflation between Christianity and the Republican Party has grown strong. This supposed synonymity between the two needs to end. Here are some reasons why:


Problem # 1: Political parties and Christianity are fundamentally different, so Christians cannot hope or expect a political party to have an agenda synonymous with the kingdom of God.

Christianity and Republicanism do not share the same basic tenets and we should not expect them to. Christianity is centered on the person of Jesus Christ; the prophecies He fulfilled and His miraculous life that evidence His legitimacy as the Messiah; His death and resurrection; His will, purposes, and kingdom being brought about in the earth; and His sacrifice being God’s chosen and divine method of atonement and salvation for humanity.

Republicanism is not centered on those same things, so its pursuits will inevitably be different. It is a human-made political institution concerned with earthly governance. It, like any other political party or institution, for any and all good it might do, is still totally susceptible to the agenda of mankind and its propensity toward corruption, greed, sin, and brokenness. This is not to say that Christianity is unsusceptible to many of these same problems, nor is any political party all bad. Neither of those statements would be true. However, the origin of Christianity is rooted in Christ—the origin of the Republican Party is not.

If you looked at the social media posts and Facebook feeds of many American Christians, you might find yourself hard-pressed to find any kind of distinguishing line between which of these two is of greater importance to them: political party affiliation or allegiance to Christ. The implication is not that there is no crossover between faith/religion and politics, nor that total separation between them should be expected or even desired. I would argue that the two being totally separable is humanly impossible; i.e., that any system of belief, whether it is oriented around God or not, can be wholly separated practically and psychologically from one’s political views and voting choices—and, again, I don’t think it should be. The expectation of that idea from both the secular and religious side is an unrealistic one, and one that is often aggressively biased in each’s inability to see its own fiery agenda in expecting the other side to be devoid of what makes the other different and unique.

The high-level notion of the separation of church and state is likely healthy for both sides. In addition to this issue being specifically mentioned in the First Amendment, centuries of European history show us how both the state and the church can be manipulated and harmed by the other. However, that distinction does not necessarily equate to personal voting choices and party affiliation being devoid of beliefs, whether those beliefs are theistic or atheistic. For Christians, the idea of “kingdom culture” being infused in all that we do is critically important. Challenging the notion of the sacred-secular divide, or as Emile Durkheim and later Mircea Eliade referred to it, The Sacred and the Profane, I think plays a major role in the overall teaching of Jesus. Godly influence in government is deeply important and needed. But Christians cannot expect governmental law to serve as a substitute for encounter with God and relationship with Him, which brings us to the next point:


Problem # 2: When Christianity and political party affiliation become so strongly intertwined, there is often an unexamined expectation that the legislation of morality can catalyze the needed change in the human heart that only the grace and kindness of God can bring about (see Romans 2:4)

Human law is necessary for society to have regulation, structure, and order and, as mentioned before, what people vote for inevitably will and should reflect their personal values. Many times, though, I have observed fellow Christians live with the expectation of societal adherence to a godly standard by people who have no relationship with God—by people who have not encountered, acknowledged, or believed in Him yet. The point isn’t that godly standards are to be abandoned or ignored or that people apart from them are incapable of good (see Romans 2:14), but the fulfillment of those standards in totality is only fathomable and achievable through the empowerment of God Himself and the work of Christ. A key part of this discussion inevitably becomes the argument between moral relativism and absolute truth, which is in desperate need of more discussion, but a subject that, for the sake of present argument and brevity, needs to be examined at a later time.

Put another way, there is an expectation of outward change to be brought about in the lives of people, through mandate by human government, without the necessary and precursory work of the indwelling Holy Spirit which spurs inward change first, then results in outward change. This is part of what the Apostle Paul referred to in Romans 12:2 as the renewal process of the mind which brings about transformation (Holy Bible: English Standard Version).

Both in and outside of politics, what is so counterintuitive about this expectation is this notion: if God, a perfect being, uses kindness and love as His method of wooing broken and sinful hearts into repentance, wholeness, and relationship with Him, then why would we, as imperfect beings, attempt to use anything else—including, worst of all, hate—to try and bring about the same result? We see the worst examples of this sad and illogical reality displayed on posters, written in online rants, and heard in angry shouts by parts of the Church.

Why is this the case? Plainly, I think the reason is fear: fear of the seemingly ever diverging agendas of the modern American Church and secular society, the latter of which seems to be entering more and more into a post-Christian era. What the consequences of that divergence will be may be the single biggest contributing factor in the recent strengthening of the entanglement between Republicanism and Christianity. More on that in the conclusion.


Problem # 3: Christians are the hands and feet of Jesus, not the government. Christians miss a major part of their purpose when they rely too heavily on the government to meet the needs of people.

In strong connection to problem number one, I think the American Church has become somewhat lazy regarding servitude: more explicitly, the reality that Jesus requires His people to be His hands and feet to the lost. It seems governmental intervention has allowed American Christians to become complacent, to a degree, in meeting the needs of hurting people (and that does not just mean throwing money at problems). For that issue to change, Christians have to be willing to roll-up their sleeves, get their hands dirty, and serve the needs of their communities in such a way that the Church takes a major part of the weight off of the government’s shoulders in caring for the well-being of needy people.

If Republicanism really wants the small(er) government that it claims to long for, is the Church ready and willing to step in and fill the need where government program has provided? If the conflation of Republicanism and Christianity is brought to an end, are we, as Christians, ready to embrace that consequence? This is what James had to say about the matter in the New Testament: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (James 1:27, ESV). That is not a suggestion, but a powerful definition and requirement of what life is to look like for Christians in terms of servitude. The implication is not that the Christian Church currently is doing nothing, but that there is much more in need of being done.

At the heart of this issue lies the ever-present issue of identity and how it is shaped, which brings us to problem number four:


Problem # 4: For Christians, faith needs to inform political views, not the other way around.

Anything that we, as people, identify with naturally constitutes part of our identity. When political party affiliation, though, has primacy in relationship to the believer’s identity in Christ, that is when problems occur. Identity in Christ must always supersede political party identification. It has to serve as the trump card (no current presidential pun intended) in what gets to inform Christians, first and foremost, about about who we are, the value that people have, the decisions we make, and the way we conduct ourselves. There are times, flat-out, when voting, thinking, and acting in light of one’s political party affiliation, be it the the Republican Party, the Democratic Party, or anything else, can be totally contrary to the kind of life and example to which Christ called His people. The Christian confession is that Jesus is Lord, not a political party, nor a flag, nor the ground in which the flag is planted.

Let me pause for a moment to clarify something important in all of this: the point is not that a political party cannot reflect biblical values in one area or another. It also does not mean that there is anything inherently wrong with love of country, patriotism, and democracy. I am deeply grateful for the men and women who have served, fought, and died to protect the very freedom that allows me to express these words upon this digital page—that is an important and necessary disclaimer. I have many friends and family members who have served or are currently serving in the armed forces of the United States. I am not unaware of the cost to protect my freedoms and yours, nor do I take it for granted. The point is simply that what Republicanism (and being American, for that matter) and Christianity stand for are not the same, and they can’t be construed as such without grievous consequences.

If you’re reading this and you still feel that the democracy we collectively hold so dear has been spat upon, remember these words of Jesus in John 18:36: “‘My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from this world’” (ESV).

God’s governance is that of a kingdom; His reign, that of a king. Democracy isn’t now and won’t ever be God. It’s time we stop treating it as such.


Problem # 5: When we confuse Christianity and Republicanism, we run great risk of misrepresenting the character and heart of God (especially to people who don’t know Him) by ascribing to Him qualities that are far from His nature or what He condones. 

This is the big one, and the one that I feel is currently most important to correct. When Trump bragged about grabbing women by their genitals, or is consistently quick to anger, vulgar, overtly greed-filled, and lacking kindness in action towards those with whom he does not agree, I want all of my non-Republican friends to know, those actions don’t represent the heart of Christ, nor is that kind of behavior condoned by God—even if, yes, God can still sovereignly use a sinful person to accomplish His purposes. That is accomplishable, truly, by God alone. (And for those reading this who don’t know where they stand with God, I know that idea seems mystifying at best and plain stupid at worst from the human perspective. That is something we can dig into more at another time.) However, that does not mean that God endorses what Trump does or doesn’t do. Moral reprehensibility is redeemable, but it isn’t defensible.

That is the great tragedy that I have witnessed under the current presidential administration and one of the great risks we run when allowing political identity, again, to rank prime in relationship to identity in Christ: we find people, callously and flippantly, condoning, dismissing, and even embracing truly indefensible behavior, like Trump having sex with a porn star while his wife, Melania, was pregnant, paying off the woman, and later denying it once the situation came to light. That behavior is indefensible. It’s time Christians and specifically Christian Republicans start getting real and honest about that.

I know plenty of Democrats and people of other political party affiliation who have great difficulty even considering Christianity as a “spiritual option” and further pursuing its possible truth because of the interchangeable nature it seems to have taken on with the Republican Party. Both the media and the Church have perpetuated that falsehood. Think about that for a moment—if you’re a Christian, that should grieve you: the idea that the reality of God and searching for Him isn’t even considered because of what His existence has become associated with. That is hard to write and harder to swallow, but it’s true. That truly is a tragedy.


Conclusion

So, what are Christians to do with this problem? First, we can start by calling a spade a spade. We do no justice to the image of God and its representation to people when we defend immoral behavior by Republicans because we have erroneously deemed the Republican Party to be the contemporary banner of American Christianity. If we can fight for the lives of unborn children, we must also call sexual assault wrong. If someone spots an instance of hypocrisy in the conflation of Christianity with the Republican Party, embrace that criticism with any truth that is present. Call immoral behavior immoral. Don’t ignore it because it is easier and more convenient than drawing a dividing line between American politics and the Christian faith.

Secondly, as a wise friend reviewing this piece reminded me recently, if one of the goals with this article really is to bridge a gap of understanding between believers and non-believers, Christians and non-Christians, the spiritually aware and the unconvinced, we need to not only correct what Christianity is not about in light of American politics, but more importantly make known what Christianity stands for, and not just in word but in action. There always seems to be more need of that.

We can start that process by praying for our nation’s leaders, regardless of party affiliation. That is something that, despite multiple instances of biblical instruction, Christians often seem to wrestle with when someone from an opposing political party holds governmental office. We see Jesus give a beautiful example of simultaneously honoring God and human authority in Mark 12:17 when He is asked about whether it is “lawful” to pay taxes. He clearly shows that honoring God and people is not mutually exclusive: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (ESV). 

In regard to fear being a major motivating factor in the entanglement of contemporary American Christianity and the Republican Party, for Christian Republicans, the questions in this line of reasoning seem to be, “What would happen to Christianity in America were Republicanism to not preserve it? What about the lives of unborn children? What about freedom of religion?” The latter two questions are important: human issues need to be fought for across partisan lines—which also includes issues often raised by the Democratic Party—and all people should be able to worship freely as the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution declares (conversely, it also states that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion” [U.S. Constitution, amend. 1, sec. 1.]). Those things are worth fighting for. However, in response to the first question, with any potential there is for some good part of Christianity and what it stands for to be preserved under so-called political protection, there is equally high potential for the image of what Christianity most importantly represents to be tainted—Jesus Christ Himself. The heart and face of Christianity in the U.S. needs to be brought back to its foundation in Christ and wrested from any kind of political grip.

A major part of the image of God is at stake in conflating Christianity and any political party or agenda. We can present a road block or a road map to encounter with God with how we, as Christians, represent Him. Please recognize, it is extraordinarily difficult for people to separate the represented thing from its representation. Remember who is God and what is not. Represent Him well.


References:

Eliade, Mircea. The Sacred and the Profane; the Nature of Religion. Translated from the French by Willard R. Trask. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1959.

Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Study Bible. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2011.

U.S. Constitution, amend. 1, sec. 1.

God, Gravity, and Reason: Examining an Intersection of Logic, Belief, and Fallacy

Almost all of us, believer and non-believer alike, have encountered some presentation of God that we find difficult to swallow. Maybe it’s something about what we think God has done, what we assume He must be like based on X, or maybe it’s the age-old question of how to reconcile the problem of evil with the existence of God that makes us question the possibility that He exists. Whatever the hangup has been, you are not alone. However, assessing the truthfulness of something based on its personal likability is a logically-flawed and potentially dangerous road.

Often times, we stop examining the possible truth and validity of something at the point we decide we don’t like it, in this case, the possibility that God exists. Instead of shaping what we believe based on a thorough examination of the truth claims surrounding God, using faith, evidence, reason, and authority, we cease to consider whether He exists simply because we don’t like what we think we know about Him.

Generally speaking, our objections about God fall into two categories: those that pertain to His nature (or at least how we perceive it), and supposed proofs that we feel negate the possibility of His existence. The second group, proofs, is not what is under the microscope, here. (And, just for the record, actually proving that God does not exist is impossible.) What I want us to examine are the areas in which we have let personal objections about God hinder us from pursuing the possibility that He exists.

Even when something other than God is in question, we often fall prey to this logical fallacy. As well-informed and unbiased as we would like to think we are, we often don’t believe in the ideas, truth claims, and bits of reality that we find unlikable, unfathomable, or disagreeable, without deep consideration for whether those things are real or true or not.

In our age of reason, we are still creatures driven by feeling, emotion, and intuition.

In the last year and a half, we’ve seen this phenomenon acutely displayed on a large scale in the political world. If you’ve been paying even a small amount of attention to politics in the U.S. recently, you’ve probably heard the terms “fake news” and “alternative facts” thrown around. These terms denote competing truth claims that simply can’t all be true. Certainly, “fake news” has been demonstrated to be a real issue with serious consequences; however, it’s clear some individuals want to decide which bits of information are presented to the public based on how likable or advantageous that information might be, not by how true or accurate that information is.

In these instances, we seem to be somewhat aware that the likability of truth doesn’t change its reality. However, outside of this arena, we, as people, are plagued with this fallacy of thought in everyday life. God, as a being to be believed in, is perhaps more affected by this issue than anything else. Let me show you what I mean with an illustration:

Let’s say you find it unfair that the nature of gravity dictates that objects in space are constantly being pulled toward some large mass, like the earth or sun, against their will. You may choose to say, “I just can’t accept gravity. It’s so selfish. It’s always trying to pull things toward itself.” Be that as it may, if you then walked outside and decided you wanted to fly, upon jumping into the air, you would quickly discover that the reality of gravity exists, regardless of your dislike for it, as you’re pulled back to the ground.

Basically, external realities are not negated by our lack of belief in them, nor are they created by our belief in them, for that matter.* And, disliking the nature of something, real or perceived, isn’t good enough reason to not believe in it. And not believing in real things does have real consequences.

*Note: The realities that we create for ourselves psychologically by our beliefs and perceptions is another important subject, and one well-worth discussing, but a subject for a later time.

Now, to be clear, gravity is not an entirely tangible thing. It is much like the wind in that while we cannot see the wind itself, we see the effect of it all around us. God is observable in a potentially similar way, but I do not expect the non-believer to hold that God’s existence is as observable in nature as the wind. The believer may look at a mountain range and say, “How can you look at that beauty and not believe in God?” The non-believer may say, “I just see the result of colliding tectonic plates.”

In comparison to the example of gravity, in a similar, yet more abstract way, we often express these same kinds of objections against God in almost mantra-like form. I don’t know how many times in conversation I’ve heard someone say something along the lines of, “I just can’t believe in a God who would _____,” or “I just don’t think that God would care about _____,” or “Because of _____, I just can’t believe in God.” In these instances, the objections are about the perceived nature of God, not about whether He actually exists. However, a personal hangup with His nature often hinders us from considering the possibility that He actually exists.

The funny thing about these statements, too, is that they subtly indicate a poorly examined bias that almost all of us carry in some form or another, believer and non-believer alike: we think we can, with complete validity and authority, know with certainty something about God based on subjective belief and intuition. This is indicated by some form of the phrase, “I just think,” or “I just feel,” or “I just believe.” Doesn’t sound familiar? Walk into any college classroom in America and ask students what they think about God. You’ll be inundated with responses that repeat the phrase, “I just, I just, I just.

In our age of rationalism, naturalism, materialism, and empiricism, we still fall prey to accepting much of what we believe to be true about existence based on intuition, totally in contrast to the god of science that we have erected because of our love of testability and tangibility. To clarify, I am not saying that nothing can be intuitively known. I do think intuition can have a valuable role in what we know and understand; I do want to highlight, though, the inconsistency and even hypocrisy of how we often think when shifting gears from one subject matter to another.

Ultimately, our objections about what we don’t like, understand, or want to believe about God often act as our biggest obstructions to believing in Him and accepting even the possibility that He exists.

Those objections, whatever they may be, shouldn’t keep us from considering the possibility of whatever thing is in question, but they do. When we allow our perception this place of influence and authority, our ability to understand becomes the standard by which some truth claim must be measured in order for it to be true; in other words, rather than appealing to a standard with greater potential for credibility than ourselves, in order for something to be true or real to us, it must be personally palatable or understandable.

If we were to look at this logical fallacy in terms of an equation, it might look like this:

truth claim + our dislike = rejection of claim (without necessity and/or deep assessment)

Using another example, if you or I don’t understand conceptually how quantum mechanics work, the unpredictable nature of quantum mechanics (as mind-boggling as it is) does not cease to exist because of our lack of understanding, and we would be silly to think that it would. But, as was said before, this is often how we treat the possibility of God’s existence: if we dislike something we think we know about Him, we stop considering whether He actually exists—not because of some proof—but because of personal dislike or lack of understanding.

Put simply, God’s existence is not contingent upon human belief. If we are to seriously consider the idea that He might exist, we have to actually examine the truth claims surrounding Him—really pursue knowing Him—not merely reduce Him to a device of human invention (as posited by the sociological reductionist view of religion that we, in the Western, post-Enlightenment world, so readily and uncritically accept).


Conclusion

This issue of belief and what constitutes good reason to believe in God is altogether complex. So, rather than trying to deal exhaustively with this concept in a single piece of writing or provide a cure-all remedy to the deep and prevalent logical fallacy we’ve examined, my intention is to cause us to ask more questions. And, ask ourselves specifically where this flaw has been given a place of influence in our lives. Then, uproot those affected areas.

At this point you might be asking, “What does constitute good reason to believe, then? We’ve examined a major part of what shouldn’t keep me from believing, so what’s on the opposite side of the coin? Why should I believe?” Well, even for matters of God and the supernatural, a combination of faith, evidence, reason, and authority must all be considered. It is a common misconception by both believers and non-believers that evidence somehow nullifies faith (or that evidence is simply absent in matters of faith). Plain and simple, faith is not an evidence-less thing. For the believer, the presence of evidence does not make faith less faithful. And for the non-believer, you may be surprised by the body of evidence in support of the existence of God. (For a couple of good introductory resources on the matter, check out the short list below.) But, to be clear, while faith is supplemented by evidence, it certainly does not stand alone on it.

Among faith, evidence, reason, and authority, perhaps the least discussed of these four is authority. In essence, it is a standard of some kind that has greater credibility to inform and influence in a subject area than one’s self. In follow-up entries, I want to explore together this notion of authority, the issue of competing religious claims, the importance of testimony and personal experience in encountering God and the supernatural, and examine the synthesis of faith, evidence, reason, and authority that does constitute good reason to believe.


1 Rota, Michael. TAKING PASCALS WAGER: Faith, Evidence and the Abundant Life. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press,   2016.
2 Strobel, Lee. The Case for Christ. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2016.