How do you think about the people around you? How do you see them? How do you speak about them?
There’s been so much that’s gone on in the last month that has burdened and overwhelmed me. So much that I wanted to say but didn’t know how to–or whether or not my words would contribute anything useful or new. I’ve tried to stay out of the online hot-take business (with mixed success), but I think a lot of my thoughts lately are boiled down to this key issue:
When you stop seeing your ideological opponents as human beings worthy of dignity, it makes it a lot easier to justify treating them as sub-human in your speech and actions, both directly and indirectly.
People from my ideological/theological camp talk about the dignity of human life a lot, specifically when it comes to the life of the unborn. But I worry that much of that language is shown to be mere rhetoric when the way we speak to and about our enemies (either political or theological) is degrading, demeaning, and dismissive. (Depending on whom you ask, that makes me a squishy, raised-pinky, “nuance”-obsessed liberal, which is HILARIOUS.)
Labels and categories can sometimes provide a helpful shorthand in conversation, but I wonder if we lean so heavily on those that they start to become personas or avatars to absorb our attacks. It’s easy to make fun of “leftists” or “Trumpists” when you’re thinking about a generic stereotype instead of your parents or siblings. You can take shots, make jokes, dismiss their concerns. But when you start putting names and faces to the labels, it should become a bit harder to be so calloused and contemptuous.
“Should.” But we both know that with practice, we can become very comfortable labelling and smearing even the ones we purport to love with such invective.
“You’re just a…”
“Well of course you disagree, you….”
“Well, if you’d quit listen to all those…”
When Jesus said that in the end times, a person’s enemies would be the members of his or her own household, I don’t think the reason for this was supposed to be who’s on the national ballot or where we stand on cultural hot-button issues.
…I don’t have some great epiphany coming here. I hope you’re not expecting one.
Instead, can I just encourage you to take a few moments and run a mental audit of how you have spoken about people lately, including/especially those you disagree with? Ask yourself, “Am I able to disagree with this person/group while still treating them with dignity, as image-bearers?”
And don’t answer too quickly in the affirmative. I know that my knee-jerk reaction to this is, “Of course I do!” If it’s the same for you, maybe take a second and think carefully about it. If you’re feeling especially bold, ask someone close to you if you tend to speak of those you disagree with in minimizing or dismissive terms.
Perhaps one good step toward addressing some of the bitter divisiveness and tension in our homes and communities is by recognizing that we’re more than our political team-jersey–and the same is true of those on “the other side.”
Look, I’m not calling for some kind of kumbayah, let’s-all-hold-hands-and-sing-Imagine sort of utopian dream, because that won’t ever happen, nor should it. There are serious issues than need to be discussed. There are divides and differences of belief that can’t be ignored or patched over. It’s right and good to disagree, even disagree strongly, about issues of first importance. But if we can’t at least look each other in the eye and say, “you matter,” I think it says a lot about our own hearts. And for those of us who seek to follow Jesus, it may say something mortally serious that we just can’t ignore.
I have to admit, I’m taking the national debate over abortion pretty personally.
I have been pro-life (or anti-abortion, if you prefer) all my life. I was a child when my parents were able to adopt a little girl who was scheduled to be aborted in George Tiller’s mill, but God’s providence intervened. She is now my sister, and I can’t imagine my childhood without her in it.
I’ve participated in peaceful protests. I’ve educated myself on alternatives and support services for pregnant women, and supported such services with my time and money in the past. And while I haven’t had the opportunity yet to take a more active role, my wife and I have talked about and are still talking about foster care in the future. (We were actually in the midst of foster-care training when we found out about Baby #1, a few years ago.)
I have seen lots of discussion on social media about “women’s rights” and “women’s bodies,” and whether or not “blobs of cells” or “blobs of tissue” have the same rights. I’ve read comments of prominent politicians arguing about how a 6-week-old embryo can be destroyed because it’s hard for women to know whether or not they are just “two weeks late on [their] period”–as if the living being within the womb is an after-thought. I saw recently that national newspapers referred to a fetal heartbeat as mere “embryonic pulsing” (what an perfect example of Orwellian newspeak).
Whenever I see those comments thrown around, I can’t help but think back to this:
That’s my second daughter, at 12 1/2 weeks of development. A human being, with a head, limbs, a speedy little heartbeat–and at that point, no human rights, as she was still legal to abort in more than 40 states.
Even now, at 33 weeks along, my wife could travel to New York or Illinois or several other states, and our daughter (currently around 4-5 pounds, full of energy, doing flips and kicks, lungs expanding and contracting, mouth swallowing, heart still pumping away) could be medically disassembled, ripped literally limb from limb, brain matter sucked out, skull crushed, in the name of “choice.” This is “health care,” after all.
Those who oppose my views talk about the rights of women. Scroll up and take another look at that picture. Take another look at that little girl.
What about her rights? What about her bodily autonomy? When do we grant her humanity?
See, that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s about acknowledging her humanity. It’s about recognizing that that little “blob of cells” that had an “embryonic pulsation” as early as 6 weeks into development is a human being, endowed by her Creator with inalienable rights. It’s about believing and defending the truth that this little girl–my daughter–is fearfully and wonderfully made.
For me, this national discussion isn’t about controlling women’s choices or women’s bodies. It’s not even about political power plays or left-vs-right bickering.
It’s about demanding the recognition that my daughter, like all unborn children, is still a human being.
And when you refuse to do that, I take that very personally.
(Baby #2, back in February, at 19 weeks development. Babies at this stage are still able to be murdered legally in Texas.)
You see a post, comment, or video on social media that you find frustrating or offensive. Perhaps the person is making straw-man arguments against your deeply-held belief, or they’re making statements that are fallacious or silly on the very face. Perhaps you can see such behavior or ideas as the direct result of a cultural or ideological worldview, and you want to demonstrate that “THIS” offending statement or action “is how you get” some other, much worse thing.
Yet, instead of writing a post or thread or story about the subject, you choose to say nothing.
You decide to say nothing because: 1) you don’t actually know the person in question, or the commentators involved; 2) this isn’t a national story or part of a cultural discussion being had–it’s a niche event; 3) it would be difficult to develop a thoughtful commentary or response in a handful of sentences; and/or 4) you realize that doing so may get you a few supportive shares and likes, but may also usher in as much or more backlash and arguments, requiring further clarification, follow-up, and almost inevitable blocking/banning.
So you read the comment, shake your head, and move on with your day.
Here’s a question to consider, reader: By choosing a course of non-interaction, what have you lost and what have you gained?
Feel free to discuss below. Or not–I leave it up to you.
[N.B.: I’m a bit busy this week. I will respond to all comments (even disagreements made in good faith), but it will not be right away. Thank you for your patience.]
Yesterday, I talked about the bad news that comes before the Good News: that God’s wrath will one day be poured out against all sin and unrighteousness of mankind; that religious practice is useless at taking away our sin or giving us sufficient good standing before a holy God; and that every one of us stands guilty of breaking God’s commands and failing to worship Him as we ought.
But then I also said that, for those of us who embrace these truths and come to Jesus in complete desperation and dependence, we are made into new people.
The Good News of Jesus’ death and resurrection is good news for sinners who confess that they need a Savior.
So how is the Good News especially good for those of us who believe in Jesus?
Here are 4 ways Christians can rejoice in the Good News:
1. God loved us before we were good.
Our natural instinct is that we must earn God’s favor by doing good works, and that our good works will give us merit in God’s eyes. But the Gospel says that before we were sinners, Christ Jesus died for us—not for righteous people, not even for good people, but for filthy, rotten, rebellious, worthless, sinful people (which are the only kind of people that exist, truth be told). It wasn’t our good works that captured God’s attention or earned his affection. God chose to rescue sinners who didn’t deserve to be rescued, and sent Jesus the Son to live as a perfect, righteous man, to die in the place of unrighteous people, and then to rise again victorious over our great enemies, sin and death. God demonstrated His love by rescuing us. So now we who love God do so precisely because He loved us first.
What does this mean for you, Christian? God initiated a relationship with you while you were still in your sins. He rescued you and adopted you as His child. So now, do you think your sin is going to separate you from that love? Do you think the work of Christ is so limited that your sins as a Christian will undo what Jesus has done? By no means! If you have sinned, repent and be restored to right relationship with your Father, because we are called to obey God; but know that those who have truly come to Jesus will never be cast out, and those who repent will be forgiven and cleansed of all unrighteousness.
2. Jesus saves children of wrath by grace through faith — not by their works.
Remember, you were spiritually dead in your transgressions and sins. You were not weak, you were not wounded–you were spiritually dead. D-E-A-D, dead. You were opposed to God, destined for destruction, facing His righteous wrath. But God who is rich in mercy made us alive together in Christ, the text says. God’s mercy initiated this relationship, and He saved us by grace through faith. Remember, grace means we received something we didn’t deserve–and that is the only sensible way we can view the love of God.
We are not saved by our works–remember? Our best deeds are still stained by sin! How could we, who were spiritually dead and unable to produce any true righteousness of our own, ever bring about our own salvation? We can’t! Instead, it is the gracious gift of God, received through faith–a faith that shows us to be the spiritual children of Abraham, the man of faith. Abraham believed God’s promise that through his line would come blessing to the entire world, and when Abraham believed, it was credited to him as righteousness. We then who believe the promise that God will save those who call upon the name of the Lord, that faith opens the door to our redemption. And even that faith is a gift from God, not a work from us! How could it be anything else? How can spiritual corpses believe, unless God enables them to do so?
What does that mean for you, Christian? We are accepted by God because of what Jesus did, not because of what we do. We receive Jesus’ righteousness, credited to our bankrupt account, by putting our faith in Him as our Savior and our Substitute and our Risen King. The works you do are done as a tribute to God’s mercy, not a payment to appease Him. The sacrifice of Christ was not loan consolidation, to give you a lower and more manageable monthly payment of good works; it was complete debt forgiveness, as the impossible amount you owed was stamped “PAID IN FULL” in red letters. We receive that amazing grace by faith.
3. Jesus saves us from the condemnation of the Law.
Throughout the book of Galatians, the apostle Paul is trying to address confusion that has been introduced to the believers in Galatia. There were some (called Judaizers) who convinced the believers that, once they became followers of Jesus, they had to become fully Jewish as well, following all the customs and rituals of the Jews and the Jewish Law. Paul tells the people in no uncertain terms that this is not only folly, it’s spiritual suicide. He asks them why, since they received Jesus by grace, they must now continue in Him by following rituals and legal standards?
Do you hear what Paul is saying here, Christian? You who were once fully and completely guilty according to the Law, you have been justified by Christ. You have been declared “not guilty” by God the righteous Judge, on account of Jesus, who bore the due penalty of your sin and paid it in full. Nothing more is owed against that debt, and the condemnation you once faced does not threaten you any longer.
4. The Holy Spirit empowers us to live out our new identity and obey our new Lord.
Let’s take a look at that Romans 8 passage again. If we are now in Christ, we are no longer condemned under the Law. Because of what Christ as done for us, we can now walk in the Spirit rather than according to our flesh, our old sinful nature. This means we are able to walk according to the will and commands of God, rather than being driven by our own natural desires and compulsions. We are now able to please God in how we live, because it’s His Spirit at work in us, remaking us into the image of Jesus.
Not only do we have the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, who lovingly convicts us of sin and reminds us of the truth of the Scriptures, but that Spirit is also a reminder and a guarantee of our hope of resurrection. As Jesus was raised bodily, so we will be raised bodily on the last day. On top of all this, the Spirit Himself confirms that we are God’s children. He gives us a spirit of sonship, so that we may call the God of the Universe, the Judge whom we once had feared, “Our Father.” We are no longer slaves to sin, bound to obey its desires. We are children of God, rescued from bondage, carrying the hope of resurrection with Christ, and given the Holy Spirit as a reminder of our inheritance with Jesus.
Hear this, Christian: We have been given the Holy Spirit who convicts us of sin to bring about repentance and enable us to walk in a way that pleases our Father. We are no longer slaves to our sins, chained to our old way of life. He whom the Son sets free is free indeed. Walk in freedom, by the power of the Holy Spirit who lives within you, so that you may walk as children of light.
There you have it. Four reasons why the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus’ death and resurrection, is exceedingly good news.
If you are not a believer in Jesus, I must tell you that theseglorious truths do not apply to you. As it now stands, nothing will shield you from the righteous wrath of God against your sins. I am not being arrogant, friend; I’m telling you only what the Bible tells you. There is yet time to repent of (that is, to turn from) your life of sin and self-service, and to look to Jesus the risen Son of God and believe on Him–believing that He is who He said He is and did what He said He did. You don’t have another moment promised to you. Don’t presume upon the patience of God. Think on these things. If you want to discuss it more, feel free to email me (the4thdave at gmail dot com) or comment below.
If you are a believer in Jesus, however, then these and many more promises are yours in Christ. As we make our way through (what is called by many) “Holy Week,” the week in which we commemorate the death and resurrection of Jesus, I encourage you to think on these things as well. Consider that the Crucifixion and Resurrection are signs to you of the love God had for you before you knew Him, and the grace He extended to you so that you may now call Him Father. My hope is that these truths will help you sing a little louder this Sunday.
About 5 years ago, at lunch after church, a friend invited me to sit with her and another girl. They asked if I could take a few minutes and explain what it meant to be “saved.” The only place I could think to start would be answering the question, “Saved from what?”
That conversation and others like it have affirmed in my mind the vital importance of helping non-believers understand the Bad News.
No, that’s not a typo; I’m very serious. If people do not seriously consider the Bad News, then the Good News (that’s what “Gospel” means) won’t mean what it should. Without the Bad News, the Good News won’t seem as good or as compelling.
Bad News for People Who Like Good News
So what is the Bad News?
1. The Creator and Judge of the universe is storing up righteous wrath against His rebellious creation.
No one likes talking about the wrath of God. Everybody’s on board for the love and mercy and grace of God, but the wrath of God is the theological equivalent of a long record scratch in any conversation. However, the Bible doesn’t shy away from it.
The story the Bible tells is that God created the universe and everything in it, including mankind. However, our first parents rebelled against God’s rightful authority, choosing to disobey His command and be their own gods. Because of that, every one of their descendants has been born with the natural bent toward rebellion against God. All of us desire to sin, and all of us willfully commit sin. We not only sin deliberately (sins of commission), but we also fail to do what God has commanded and give Him the honor and glory He deserves (sins of omission). We deny the plain truth of the God who made us and give our worship to created things. All the evil and suffering of the world is the fruit of humanity’s sin. And because God is a just Judge, He must punish lawbreakers. So His great wrath is being saved up for the last day against all wickedness and law-breaking.
You may think, “Come on, Dave, is one little sin that serious?” Well, James the brother of Jesus writes that anyone who keeps the whole law of God yet fails in one small piece is still considered a lawbreaker, as if he had broken all of it (James 2:8-11). In the Old Testament and the New Testament, the people of God are told to be holy as God is holy, perfect as God is perfect. A perfectly righteous and just God cannot turn a blind eye to sin. It must be punished.
That’s pretty bad news—but it gets worse.
2. Religious practices and good behavior won’t take wrath away.
If you grew up religious or moral, you may feel pretty good about yourself, compared to the rest of humanity. You see the evil and cruelty of mankind reported on the nightly news and think, “I’m glad I’m not like those people.” Well…the Bible says differently. Even the people of Israel, who were given the Mosaic Law and the prophets and the writings of Scripture were still guilty of breaking that law over and over. Those outside the people of Israel didn’t have the written law, but they had the law of the conscience—God’s law written on their hearts. Yet our consciences cannot keep us on the narrow path; we make excuses for our behavior, or find ways to justify what our consciences and God’s Word clearly call sin. If you grew up in church like I did, you might try to convince yourself that exterior righteous deeds are sufficient to please God, but your righteous works will do nothing to take away the stain of your sins. Even your righteous deeds are like filthy rags.
“But surely, Dave, there are good people in the world, even outside of your narrow religious belief system. You can’t pin all this on them. What about the noble Muslims and devout Hindus and God-fearing orthodox Jews and good, moral people of no faith at all? Are you saying that all of them are going to Hell?”
Fair question. Okay, let’s check what the Bible says. *looks* Uh-oh…
3. Everybody’s guilty.
Everybody. Every single one of us. We’re all lawbreakers before God. Even the tiniest infraction makes us guilty, and if we’re being really honest, we know that we’ve done much, much more than that. What the Bible actually teaches is that none of us are “basically good, deep down.” We are in fact by our very nature “children of wrath.” What the Law of God, revealed in the Bible, has done is show us the depth of our sin and our rebellion against God.
Despite all that, you may still consider yourself a good person. Okay, do you mind if we test that?
Have you ever told a lie? What do you call someone who tells lies? (A liar)
Have you ever taken anything that doesn’t belong to you, no matter the value? What do you call someone who takes things? (A thief)
Have you ever looked with lustful intention on another person who is not your spouse? Jesus said that one who looks with lust has committed adultery in their heart.
Have you ever used God’s name flippantly as a curse or exclamation? That’s called blasphemy.
How are you doing? Still a good person? Or, if you’re like me, have you admitted that you’ve been a liar, thief, adulterer (in heart, if nothing else), and blasphemer?
Let’s be gut-level-honest, you and I: If that’s all true, how can we honestly claim to be “good” people?
And if God is a just judge who punishes sin, do we really expect Him to just “be a pal” and overlook our many sins?
At this point, reader, we have a choice:
If we reject what Scripture has said about our true nature and standing before God, then let us go on with our lives. Let’s eat, drink, and be merry. But keep this in mind: on the last day, we all will give an account before the God of the Universe, the One who judges justly. If we decide to stand on our own merit in the face of that Judge, we will receive the full measure of justice. Considering we have already demonstrated that we are lawbreakers, how do you think that will go?
However, if we accept what Scripture says about our true nature and standing before God, we must admit that each of us are by nature sinners and deserving of God’s wrath against our rebellion. And for those of us who recognize the Bad News that we are facing a divine wrath we have earned…there is also Good News.
Good News for Sinners who Need Good News
What is that Good News? Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came to save sinners. God the Son stepped into time and space and chose to be born as a human being for the specific purpose of paying our debt. He lived the perfect life you and I couldn’t, by completely obeying God’s Law, and then died as a sacrifice in our place to pay for our sins. The wrath we deserve was poured out on Him for our sake. The justice of God was satisfied, and the mercy of God was revealed, in the cross of Jesus.
And then, 3 days later, Jesus rose again from the dead, defeating death itself, demonstrating that His sacrifice satisfies the righteous demands of God’s Law, and forever declaring that He is Lord of all creation.
Friend, if you know you are a sinner, and you have never turned from your sinful rebellion, confessed that you need God’s forgiveness, and believed in Jesus who died and was raised for your sake, today is the day. There is no time to waste.
My email address is the4thdave at gmail dot com. If you want to talk about this, shoot me a message.
Tomorrow, we’ll revisit the Good News that comes from the Good News! See you then!
What a difference a weekend’s non-stop news cycle makes.
I was going to write a post about the latest internet debate last week, concerning razor advertisements, implications of toxic masculinity, and the necessity of teaching young men virtue. (Of course, by the time I had started to put some thoughts together, several writers of higher calibre had already written excellent pieces in that vein, so I left off.)
Then I spent Friday and Saturday with some other men from church thinking through discipleship at home and in the church, and Sunday with my church family and friends. As I slowly got back online yesterday evening, another outrage had replaced the last outrage–this time, regarding the issue of racially-based disrespect and (later in the day) media narrative bias. Some people who were quick to repost the initial reporting began stumbling over themselves to walk back statements and reassess the latest available information, while others were doubling-down and disregarding any other data points or newly-available information.
One could point the finger of blame at social media for the flare-up of such stories, but then again, if not for alternative outlets beyond the “big three networks” and the cable news channels (ever the bulwarks of, um, “fair and balanced” reportage), we would not often get additional data points that challenge the way stories are framed.
Yes, there’s the ever-present danger of “fake news” and false leads (as was demonstrated when a young man was apparently misidentified as the infamous “smirker” and was hashtagged, stalked, harassed, and doxxed over the course of a few hours). On the other hand, if you limit yourself to what the “officially verified” and check-marked set report, you still may not get the full story. (After all, what’s the good in listening to only one verified source of “real” news when that source is Pravda, comrade?)
Suffice it to say, social media was abuzz with the reaction, the counter-reaction, the reactions to both, and the finger-wagging and tongue-clucking pointed in various and sundry directions. I got sucked in, reading about the drama, forming opinions on second- and third-hand accounts, until I realized I was doing the same thing everyone else was–feeding on the drama as an outside observer.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how I engage with social media and how that engagement affects me.
Some of that thinking has been helped by recent books (Jonathan Leeman’s How the Nations Rage, Andy Crouch’s The Tech-Wise Family, and Senator Ben Sasse’s excellent book Them). Some of it has grown from observations in myself and others, through the ebbs and flows of social media’s outrage spin cycle.
I’ve arrived at a few conclusions about how I need to change my social media use, which I will think through and share over a few posts in the coming weeks. Here is the first:
I am choosing to minimize the amount of rage-baiting in my feeds–both in terms of what I write and what (and whom) I read.
I doubt that term’s original, but I haven’t heard it used much, so I’ll claim it. “Rage-bait,” like “click-bait,” is an attractive invitation to engage–but specifically to engage in order to get angry.
Ben Sasse talks about “nut-picking” in his book Them–the practice of finding an extreme example of bad behavior or ignorance in another ideological tribe and holding it up as an example of that whole group. I think a lot of us are guilty of this, even without realizing it. We post and share stories that incense us, but if we were pressed, I doubt many of us would honestly say that “Wacko #5” is truly representative of the millions of people we would classify in the same ideological tribe.
But man, Wacko #5 gets us those sweet, sweet clicks, doesn’t he…
I want to resist the temptation to rage-bait. That doesn’t mean there aren’t things that deserve our outrage; on the contrary, there are realities that rightly require attention, comment, and even strong rebuke. It may not be healthy to fly to the opposite extreme and live in blissful ignorance of real-world concerns and issues, if we want to be good citizens and neighbors.
The problem is, to borrow a phrase from The Incredibles: If everything is outrageous, then nothing is outrageous.
Internet outrage becomes white noise. It’s barely a blip. One outrage sweeps in after another like waves lapping the shore, and we are all awash in it–partly because we choose to accept it and engage in it.
It doesn’t have to be this way. We can choose to distinguish which issues are worth discussing, and which ones we can just ignore. In other words, we don’t need to go off every time someone is wrong on the Internet. We can just shake our heads, close the browser window, and move on.
(And if there are specific people or sites in our feeds that are light on information or content and heavy on rage-bait, maybe the best response is to click that “unfollow” button. But that’s a discussion for another time.)
So here’s my challenge to you, reader: Take a step back and look at what you post and read on your various social media feeds. Consider the posts and tweets and shares that provoke you to anger the most. How much of it is actual issues-focused interaction…and how much of it is rage-bait?
Does the rage-bait actually make you a better citizen? A better neighbor? A better person? Or does it just make you angry?
(Reposted and expanded from this post way back in 2004.)
It was fall, and school was just getting into full swing. My senior year of college, full of 400-level classes and theater and a girl with whom I was utterly smitten.
We, she and I, were getting lunch. Walking from the school cafeteria counters to the beverage island in the middle of the dining hall. Two small cups of Dr. Pepper, one of chocolate milk, balanced on my plastic tray, trying not to spill.
The nearby television was tuned to MTV, as Kurt Loder (or someone similar) was discussing the death of Aaliyah, the R&B star who died in a plane crash just a few weeks before. She and I chatted about the tributes and the memorial services that dominated the airwaves.
She mentioned that she heard one announcer say that Aaliyah’s death would be our generation’s “where were you when” moment. Our parents would have the Kennedy assasination, our grandparents would have Pearl Harbor, and we just had Aaliyah. I thought that was a bit of an overstatement (no offense intended to the dead), and that it would be pretty sad if the death of a pop singer were “the” landmark news moment of our lives.
She agreed. “I was more impacted when Kurt Cobain died. There were girls at school who cried all day, when they found out.”
I didn’t share that memory; my upbringing was devoutly devoid of pop music. But I understood and agreed, “Yeah, clearly Cobain had more of an impact.”
We sat at the table, watching the large-screen TV in the caff, and the topic shifted to homework and other things.
That was Monday.
The next morning, my roommate Josh and I were getting ready for the 9:30 class we both had (Children’s Theatre? Scenic Design? Something in the theater building.)
I was perched on my dorm-room desk chair, Mr. Rogers-style, about to pull on my socks, when Josh uncharacteristically turned on the TV (something he never did in the morning). And I saw it. I saw the world change in an instant.
I saw a mighty city in flames. I saw the great tower shudder. I saw the smoke and debris.
Then the image of the second plane vanishing into the side of the second tower. To this day, I don’t know if that was a live video or a replay, but either way, it felt sudden. Jarring.
I sat slack-jawed and half-socked, unable to move. Josh dropped down on his bed, stunned. I heard him gasp. We sat silent, in our small dorm room on the small campus of a small Baptist college in the wide plains of middle America, and we watched in horror as Americans were murdered en masse.
After about ten minutes, I awoke from my shocked state. “I…guess…we need to get to class.” Josh nodded. I finished getting dressed, and we walked together in silence from the dorm to the communications building. On our way, we met our professor speeding toward and then past us, calling over her shoulder, “Meeting in the black box.”
We walked into the small theater, and saw the other students huddled in the seats, in twos and threes, some crying, some consoling, all speaking in hushed tones. We sat. I could think of nothing to say. I was numb. Hollow. As if my spirit had been pulled from me. Mrs. B, the other theatre prof, stood and said a few words. She said that now was a time to pray for our country, and for the families of the victims. We didn’t know how many, but we knew that countless were affected. We didn’t know what would happen next. We were afraid.
Our professor said that class was cancelled, and that we should spend the day praying. We prayed together as a group, and then dispersed. I walked out the glass doors of the building onto the recessed porch, half-stumbling. Some had been wondering aloud if this was the beginning of a war. I wondered the same thing. How many more cities would be attacked? Would there be a retaliation? Would there be a draft?
Most of us ended up in the student “commons” building. There were a few hundred, all huddled around a large-screen TV, watching in silence. Many faces were tear-stained and puffy, drawn with horror.
I stayed there for most of the day, watching the same images over and over. Then the first tower fell. Later, its sister followed.
We could forget about Aaliyah and Kurt Cobain. We had our “moment.” Every one of us now had our story.
So many things we felt. So many things we wanted to say. Now, so many years after, we’re still trying to find the words.
It’s at this point in the original post that I concluded with a rousing “they didn’t just attack New York or DC–they attacked all of us” speech. And that’s still true. For one glorious, all-too-short moment, the partisan bickering was tabled in favor of bowed heads, clasped hands, and “How are you doing, neighbor?”
And now we’re here–17 years later. We’ve defeated Bin Laden and Saddam, and new terrorists and warlords have risen up to take their places. The War on Terror hasn’t ended; it’s just changed location and shape. Truth be told, it’s been largely forgotten by many Americans–white noise in a distracted culture.
Meanwhile, we’ve had three presidents, all of whom were/are vilified by their opponents and defended fiercely by their allies. I’m not going to argue over who was better or worse (though I do find it interesting how one went from being portrayed as literally the second coming of Hitler to now a beloved and even fondly-remembered statesman in some circles–the benefits of perspective, I guess).
In some ways, it feels like this country is on the verge of fracture, though I wonder sometimes if that’s really just social media and cable news talking. Then again, moderation has fallen out of fashion. On the street corners and in the marketplace, everyone speaks in chyrons.
I don’t have answers, either. I’m still trying to find the words.
If there was a single silver lining on that dark day 17 years ago, perhaps it’s this: For one brief moment, we remembered what we had in common, and we realized that there was something more vital, more fundamental than the petty, partisan bickering that was already so deeply ingrained in the national conversation in the summer of 2001.
[This may or may not become a recurring segment on the blog, but hey, it could be fun, right? Meanwhile, the #FridayFive will return next week!]
I’m So Excited, I’m So Excited, I’m So–Scared!
I’ve never been very entrepreneurial. I’ve always been the dedicated worker bee, doing the “smart” thing, the “safe” thing.
However, I’m on the verge of starting a side-hustle (to supplement my income, not replace it), doing work as a freelance writer/editor/proofreader. I feel both a growing eagerness to get after it and a nagging worry as I realize how much I don’t know about all this. I want to dive right in, but I don’t want to be a buffoon and do damage to someone’s else’s work.
All this nervous energy has me a bit scattered. I signed up for Lynda’s online education resources, and immediately bookmarked 37 courses to check out before the 30-day free trail expires. I’ve checked out 10-12 books from the library on side hustle basics, resume writing, grant writing, freelance writing, editing technique, and plot structure and development for fiction writers. I want to watch and read all of it NOW, RIGHT NOW, so I can work right now.
This is not counting the usual “boring” stuff, like my day job. And my family. And sleep.
It feels like I’m caught in a riptide of my own making, dragging me further to sea, into deeper and deeper waters. If I don’t recognize the tide’s pull, I’ll very soon be in over my head. No one wants that.
Not Even For A Klondike Bar
A few nights ago, I suddenly stopped negotiations with a potential client, turning down a project that I had been pursuing for a couple of days. Why? Because I found out that the proposed manuscript would be full of pseudo-Christian theology, and it just didn’t feel right to say yes to that.
Don’t get me wrong–saying “no” was hard, too. This would have been my first paying gig! Nevertheless, I would have been miserable working on it. Even if only 10 people ever read it (a definite possibility), I would have felt partly responsible for confusing or even leading astray those 10 souls.
Maybe I’m over-reacting a bit. But I don’t think I am.
I believe every freelancer has to answer this question for themselves: What are my limits–not just morally, but professionally? What kinds of projects am I willing to turn down?
I can name a few things right off the bat that get a hard-pass from me:
Other people’s homework. It became immediately clear that several people seeking work are looking for “substantial editing” on their unfinished school assignments. Uh, no. I don’t do that.
False religion or lousy theology. I just don’t feel comfortable working on things that contradict my core values. That’s not to say I would limit my work to the precise theological/worldview positions I hold. But when something is blatantly outside the bounds of what I believe to be true, it’s hard for me to work on that. For example, yesterday at my day job, I had to edit instructions for a meditative yoga program, chanting, namaste, the whole nine–and it felt…gross. If I have the ability to choose my clients (and I do), I want to avoid things like that.
Sexual content. Exactly zero shades of grey for me, on this question. Just…no.
Ghostwriting. There is a market for it, to be sure. But helping someone take credit for my words as if they were alone responsible is lying, plain and simple. If I haven’t been able to write a book for myself, I certainly won’t write a book for someone else.
My goal is to help people sharpen their ideas and express their perspectives, even ones I disagree with, as clearly and effectively as possible. But I have to feel good about the work I’m doing, or it’s not worth it to me. I’d rather deliver pizzas with a clear conscience than bank huge fees and feel ashamed of the results.
Question of the Week: Do you have any advice for me as a rookie freelancer? Do you know of any pitfalls I should avoid? Please let me know in the comments below!
Unsuprising confession: I own a lot of theology books. In fact, I own a lot of theology books I haven’t read yet. Okay, possibly hundreds. I own possibly hundreds of physical and digital theology books that I haven’t read yet. (I say “possibly” because I haven’t bothered trying to count them.)
It’s my fault, of course. I’m easily distracted by the new and shiny, and my trusty, old To-Be-Read shelf waits patiently for my attentions.
Maybe you’re like me and you want to read ALL THE THINGS, all the time. You flit from book to book like a hummingbird, which is great for beach reads but not really useful for the weightier matters of theology. You think you can bop around with Calvin or John Owen? Get outta here with that noise.
Fact is, as disciples of Jesus who are seeking to grow in the faith, we want to absorb as much edifying truth as we can, but many of us don’t have a lot of spare time to do it. That’s where the good folks at Top Christian Books have stepped in to address that need with their new subscription site, Accelerate Books.
The stated goal of Accelerate Books is to provide “a digital tool for Christian leaders designed to accelerate your learning through book briefs.” It was launched primarily with pastors and seminary students in mind, but can be useful and beneficial to anyone from lay church leaders to homeschooling moms to new Christians wanting to learn the core ideas of the faith.
For a monthly subscription rate of $11.99, Accelerate Books provides new summaries of Christian non-fiction books (mostly from a Reformed theological perspective) that can be read and digested in under 15 minutes. Each book brief gives a general overview of the book’s main thesis, highlights two or three main ideas presented in the book, and then summarizes each chapter in a sentence or two, along with some pull quotes. Some of the book briefs may include infographics, animations, or MP3s (features that the TCB team is taking their time to roll out, in order to ensure quality).
There are currently 9 books available in the Accelerate library, by authors like Tim Keller, RC Sproul, John Piper, and others. More titles are scheduled for release in the coming months, along with improvements and additions to the current selections.
While the program is still in the “beta testing” phase, and not all the features are operational at this point, it’s plain to see that the layout and design of the homepage and book briefs are clean, clear, and easy to navigate. As time goes on, the TCB team is sure to add even more value to the platform.
The question remains: Is this service is right for you? Well, that depends.
Accelerate Books is great for:
Providing “executive summary” style briefs of books that I don’t have the time or great desire to read slowly: This includes books that may have useful information, but aren’t high up on my list for whatever reason.
Determining if a book is worth diving into later: After reading the book brief for Voddie Baucham’s Expository Apologetics, I immediately put the book on my Amazon wishlist. From what I understand, this is not uncommon for Accelerate users. This platform provides a means of previewing future book purchases.
Quick absorption of information: Because each brief distills the book down to its core outline, you can quickly absorb the basic arguments and ideas at a glance. This is great for business/productivity books, but I’m admittedly a little unsure on how this works for theology.
Research/reference for writing: If you’re writing a manuscript or academic paper, you can find out quickly if one of the books in the Accelerate library applies to your point of study. This can allow you to skim the book’s main points or follow up with the full version for more context.
In short, Accelerate Books can be a very useful tool!
However, the platform does have some limitations. It may not be helpful with:
Absorbing devotional material: While Accelerate Books may be excellent for information transfer, it will not leave room for you to meditate on truth the way that a more thorough, thoughtful reading does. Moving slowly, even paragraph by paragraph, through a challenging text gives the heart more time to grapple with its ideas. If you’re anything like me, your online reading habits have been trained by hundreds of ‘listicles’ to skim over bullet points without stopping to chew on them.
Developing a fuller understanding of a topic: The summaries are just too short for that. If you’re wanting to really dive into, say, Sinclair Ferguson’s examination of the “Marrow Controversy” in The Whole Christ, the book brief will give you the bones of the discussion, but there’s not enough meat for you to come away with a deep grasp of the issue.
Working through more complex argumentation: Due to the nature of the briefs, in particular the reduction of chapters to a sentence and a few short quotes, I’m not sure this approach would be helpful for working through Calvin’s Institutes or the works of Edwards or Owen. Some books should not be distilled that much. (However, I’m happy to be proven wrong. Your move, TCB.)
Essentially, this format is helpful for quick reviews and busy readers but may not be able to stimulate extended thoughtful consideration.
Would I recommend the Accelerate Books service?
Possibly, if you have the means and you understand the limitations of the platform. I was given a membership in exchange for the review, and I fully plan on using it because the opportunity to “preview” books is valuable to me. However, when it comes to deep study or even devotional reading, I will return to the full version of the books–even if it takes me forever to get around to reading them!
Many thanks to Accelerate Books and the folks at Top Christian Books, who generously provided me with early access and a lifetime membership, in exchange for an honest review. (I hope they don’t regret that.) The opinions above are my unbiased review of the resource.
“What am I supposed to do with my life? What is my calling? Is there a specific path I’m supposed to follow?”
These questions plague us. They first creep into our minds as adolescents when we are forced to consider life outside of our family’s home. They nag at us when we begin our first part-time job or when we plan for university education. They scream at us as soon as we complete graduation exercises or walk into our first day of “grown-up” employment, staring down the barrel of adulthood.
There are stacks of books published every year full of bromides and aphorisms about “finding your path” and “being true to yourself.” There’s a cottage publishing industry devoted to helping people pursue their dream/destiny. Of the writing of books about purpose and self-fulfillment, there is no end, even (especially?) in Christian publishing circles.
Perhaps a better question is, “Does each of us have a set of common roles we must fulfill or callings we can pursue?” One very helpful answer to these questions can be found in Gene Veith’s excellent volume, God at Work.
In God at Work, Veith discusses the often-ignored doctrine of vocation, or the callings that God puts on our lives as believers. It’s important to note that callings here is plural; Veith explains that every Christian has several roles to fulfill throughout their lives, and that these may change through different seasons and situations.
Veith begins by discussing how Christians have considered the doctrine of vocation throughout the history of the church. He contrasts the medieval attitude of “calling” being restricted to holy orders with the Reformers’ teaching that all people are called by God to do good, to serve and love their neighbors, and to honor God in any station of life. This, then, becomes the lens through which the rest of the book is discussed: How do we as Christians honor God and love and serve our neighbors in all the vocations of our life?
The first arena of vocation that Veith discusses is the one most often associated with the doctrine of vocation: the workplace. Here, he explores the nature of work in the aftermath of the Fall of Man, and how the Gospel of Jesus redeems and renews work for Christians. Next, Veith looks at our roles in the family unit, and the nature of our calling as spouses, parents, and children. The next two chapters examine our callings as citizens of a secular nation and citizens of a heavenly kingdom (expressed on earth in the local church), and how we should embrace and not shrink from both of these roles.
Veith closes out this slim volume by considering the difficult questions of vocation, including standing firm in ethical challenges, bearing up under hardship, and stepping away from vocation when it is appropriate.
I must admit, I have had an uninformed understanding of the doctrine of vocation for most of my life. While my thoughts on vocation were not necessarily limited to the workplace, they certainly weren’t as fleshed out as they ought to have been. Veith’s approachable and engaging examination of the subject challenged me to consider with new eyes my roles in the world as a follower of Jesus and ambassador of the Gospel. I heartily commend God at Work to you and hope that you will be as encouraged and challenged as I was in reading it.