Conviction or Condemnation?

When I was in college, pastoral ministry students had a sarcastic ministry title that we conferred upon people who made it their business to create in others a false sense of shame. We called it the ministry of condemnation. When that title was pronounced over someone, it meant that (s)he had slipped out of the role of confronting sin and into the dark art of manufacturing guilt where none was properly present.

Dig deeply enough into any human’s good works and you will find a shadow of imperfection. That is true because human beings are imperfect. Imperfect people do imperfect works, even when they do what they do with the best intentions and give best effort. If you look for the flaw, the flaw is all you will see. If you look for beauty, you will see the beauty that encircles the flaw.

I am imperfect. That neither alarms nor discourages me. Actually, it comes as no surprise to me. I made confession of it a very long time ago, so when folk call it to my attention, I am less than shocked. I work at Christian discipleship, and I do believe that I am moving on toward perfection, but if the gang in the backseat keeps chanting “Are we there yet?” the answer is a confident “NO.”

Conviction is cleansing. It is a walking out of darkness so that the clear light falls over us. It has a liberating quality about it that refreshes the soul. Every true disciple craves, and even seeks, conviction. To know our own faults so that we can make a pure confession and be restored is a priceless spiritual gift.

Condemnation, on the other hand, is a murky mess that clings to the soul, reducing its buoyancy and rendering it ineffective. While one rises from conviction restored, one can only wallow in condemnation or walk out of it. It is the mud that clings to our feet as we extract ourselves from unhealthy arrangements. Given time and distance, the mud dries and turns to dust. That is why Jesus told us “And whoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when you depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust of your feet.”

I know that we, as disciples, cannot deliver the grace of God to those unwilling to receive it. I also know that God uses a variety of ministry methods to appeal to different people, and that there will always be folk who are not drawn to, blessed by or transformed under my ministry. I will not fault those to whom my ministry does not speak. I do what I can. God will send others to do what I cannot.

I will always open my spirit to the Holy Spirit’s pure light of conviction. I will always listen to a friend’s concerns, and consider a differing perspective alongside my own. I will always reach for the higher calling. I do not run from the genuine confrontation of sin in my own life. I welcome it. But I really don’t have time or energy for condemnation. If I look down and see that my feet are getting dusty, I am going to shake it off.

Create in me a clean heart, O God;
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence;
and take not thy holy spirit from me.
Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation;
and uphold me with thy free spirit.
Then will I teach transgressors thy ways;
and sinners shall be converted unto thee.

Psalm 51:10-13 (AKJV)

The Stranger at the Gate

It is difficult to read the many perspectives on the problem of mass human migration without internalizing the conflict between the clashing points of view. We know that people move en masse when persecution, repression, war, poverty or natural disasters force them to acknowledge that their once-loved home no longer exists. They must move to survive.

We feel compassion.

We also know that the stress placed on available resources, social safety nets and infrastructure in the welcoming community can be devastating. It is one thing to give ten percent of our income to feed the poor, but another, entirely, to be required to offer up all but ten percent, and to become the poor. We can afford to welcome the stranger at the gate into our homes as a guest at our table while (s)he sorts out living arrangements, but we do not want to give the house and the table to the stranger and become the displaced person sleeping by the gate.

We crave simple answers like “Resolve the situations that trigger a mass exodus, and things will reverse, or at least stabilize.”  But that solution will not work once the trigger has been pulled. The blood of martyrs produces a lasting stain. It is difficult for the survivors of such persecution to return to their old way of life with any real sense of security. People cannot move back to homes that no longer exist or take up work in factories reduced to rubble or in burned-out, polluted fields. There may be no welcoming place to go, but they must go somewhere. We know that.

It is tempting to say that what we need is some plan for the redistribution of wealth, but mandated generosity is just theft dressed for dinner, isn’t it? Robin Hood was not (is not) our messiah. In an attempt to force the absorption of the flood of refugees, we imitate the oppressive regimes that initiated the disruption. Societal upheaval was the root of the problem. How can it be reinterpreted as its solution?

Let’s walk back to compassion.

In this age, we are seeing a massive societal unsettling. We look to Scriptural passages like this one in Luke 6:38 (NLT) “Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back.” with hope for the future. The key to dealing with the enormity of the challenge before us is not legislative or political. It is spiritual. We need a revival of compassion and a call to willing generosity.

We also need open eyes to recognize the villains in the mix, because they will be there. Among the strangers at the gate there will be assassins and suicide bombers. Some come to share our bread, and some come for the express purpose of poisoning it. There is evil in the world. We cannot afford to deny that.

What is your calling in this moment? What is mine? There are strangers at the gate, and our little children and aged parents are looking to us to provide both hospitality for the strangers and security for the family. How will we meet this age’s expectations? How will we honor God in the meantime?

Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Hebrews 13: 1 

The Snark Factor

Sometimes, when I am reading Scripture, I get the distinct impression that the Lord, the apostle or the scribe penning the words was not just smiling, but actually chuckling a little. I love to preach on the parables of the absurd – those where the Lord raises situations that are so profoundly unlikely as to border on the impossible. I am convinced that those stories were crafted to be unforgettable because of their internal unlikeliness. (In a deeply paternalistic culture, a younger son demands his inheritance from his still living father, and gets it? Yes, that’s going to happen.) We remember these passages easily, not because they happened or could happen, but because they are outrageously unlikely.

As much fun as it is to reflect on the parables of the absurd, I think I enjoy passages with a high snark factor more. In these snippets of Scripture, the writer deals the reader a playful jab. It is light and mildly sarcastic, just enough to lighten the mood and fix the conversation in the memory. These passages make us laugh at ourselves, and we need that so much more than we think we do.

This is one such passage:

Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself. Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important. Galatians 6:1-3 (NLT)

Sometimes we pull out the middle section of this passage, and make it about hardship or poverty. We hear this sentence, “Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.” applied to benevolence efforts all the time, but that is a borrowed reference. If we want to use the mandate correctly, it is about rescuing a brother or sister from sin.

That’s a fair point, but not the point I want to make today.

It is another statement in that same pericope that makes me laugh. Then it makes me repent. It is this one: “You are not that important.”  

Really, Paul? Was it not enough that you warn me about thinking too highly of myself? Was it necessary, after reminding me of my responsibility to hold my fellow believers accountable with gentleness and humility, to say bluntly “You are not that important.”?

I know you were chuckling when you dictated that. I am guessing that your scribe giggled, too, and then asked, “Do you really want me to write that in the letter? You know, somebody there is going to take that personally.”

I hear you, Paul. “Let them. They might resent it at first, but they won’t forget it. And they shouldn’t. It’s true, isn’t it?”

Yes, Paul, it’s true. It is a shade snarky, but it is true. God help me never forget it. I really am not all that important in the scheme of things. But fulfilling the law of Christ is, and that means holding others (and allowing others to hold me) accountable.

Behavior Gap

Many denominations within The Church are racked with confusion and division right now.  We think we know why, but most of us act on the assumption that the surface explanation is valid. It is not. The division in the post-modern congregation is not racism, gender misunderstandings or views on sexual preferences. Our primary problem is the gap between what we think we believe and what we (functionally) show that we believe.

The fissure is developing along the line of scriptural authority, but it is not a clean line. Why not? One does well to believe that the Holy Bible is inspired and authoritative, but that makes virtually no difference in the individual adherent’s life if the one who believes scripture has full authority has no personal grasp of the content of scripture. In that case, the Bible is reduced to a magical book in the hands of the wizard the adherent follows. Those adherents are not disciples of Jesus, filtering the content of each passage through the Lord’s teaching, but are dancing along behind the wizard, swallowing whatever is poured out to them and going where they are led.

What do we say that we believe? If we look to Scripture to self-define, we believe the words of Paul in 2 Timothy 3:16-17 (NASB)

All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.

But sometimes what we say is fully eclipsed by what we do. If we believe that the Holy Bible is authoritative, we will read and study it. If we do not read and study scripture, I would argue that we do not really believe what we say we believe. If we believed that our souls depended on obedience to our calling into grace (discipleship) we would be actively learning the will of God and actively applying what we learn to our behavior.

How can a young man keep his way pure?
By keeping it according to Your word.

Psalm 119:9 (NASB)

If that is not what we are doing, it does not matter what we are saying. We will dance along behind whatever wizard leads us. Willing ignorance disembowels our belief-set. 

Jesus led a handful of disciples who would become shepherds of the sheep. The crowd followed, but not as disciples. Sheep are far more easily swayed than are disciples. We who are called to grace through faith in Jesus must choose whether to be sheep or disciples. If we are sheep, we hope we have the right wizard to interpret our magical book. If we are disciples, we will crack the Book and do the work of following faithfully. Then we will lead with compassion those sheep who follow us, turning as many as we can into disciples along the way.

Psalm 1 addresses the issue for us:

How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
And in His law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in its season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.

The wicked are not so,
But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the Lord knows the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.

Crack the book. Do the work. Live what you believe. 

The Higher Mandate

We constantly balance obligations. We have an obligation to spend time with our families, but if the neighbor’s house catches fire while he is sleeping in his bed, our obligation to wake him and get him to a place of safety outweighs our promise to read to the children. A book can be laid aside and picked up later. The flames will not wait.

Mandates function on a continuum. Some outweigh others. We have a mandate to offer hospitality to strangers, but if the stranger at the door is wanted by the police for questioning in an armed robbery / homicide, the mandate to respect civil authority takes precedence. All it takes to figure that out is a little calm thinking.

Some situations are not quite that transparent. Would you run a red-light to get out of the way of an ambulance running lights and sirens? Well, it depends. Is the cross street clear of vehicles and pedestrians? Is there any other safer option?

It is one of the most difficult questions facing the conscientious person of faith: how does one consistently obey the higher mandate? When every option on the table seems to breach a law, code or principle, how do we know which option to choose? Are we doomed to stand morally paralyzed while the situation unfolds around us?

Anyone who offers you a simple answer for this complex situation is either a fool or a liar. What is required in such a situation is spiritual clarity and discernment. I can’t tell you how to respond, but I can give you some tools to access discernment when you need it.

• First, calm your soul. God is not surprised or alarmed by the trial set before you. The One who called you to this situation will lead you through it. It is entirely possible to do the right thing.
• Next, filter the voices speaking to you, both externally and internally. The clamor of advice and command will eclipse the still, small voice if you let it. Don’t let it. Let the Scripture you have internalized through devotional reading, study and meditation run through your mind. It is a living Word, and it will come to you when you need it most. Listen for the ring of truth in the moment.
• Finally, embrace the possibility that doing the right thing may involve sacrifice. Sometimes, doing the right thing is costly to us. Noted clergyman Jim Elliot reminded us “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” If the only way that we can do good and prevent harm to others is by risking harm to ourselves, can we consider that risk acceptable? Perhaps the greater question is “Can we do otherwise?”

How do we prepare for crisis moments? We spend time in prayer and in the study of Scripture. We spend time in the company of faithful people. We spend time alone, learning to listen internally and developing a sense of our own mission and vision. We practice the art of an internal silence that invites God to speak into or lives.

Trials will come. We will face moral confusion and clashing obligations. Even in those moments, clarity is possible. Discernment is a spiritual gift worth seeking and cultivating. Ask God to build it into your soul today, and then brace for that construction.

As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written, “You shall be holy, for I AM holy.”  1 Peter 1:14-16 New American Standard Bible