Poem

Finally a little light.

Finally, a peaceful night. 

To those of you who spurned each platitude,

And in the trenches with great fortitude,

Stood with me and chose to fight,

With time and patience, prayer and might,

My words cannot express the magnitude

Of my affection and my gratitude.

Bridge the Gap

Sometimes, evangelism seems like such a chore.  Do we have to spend the entire afternoon knocking on doors so people can tell us to get lost?  Do we have to sit at this booth all morning hoping someone will want to know more?  How many more fliers do we have to distribute?

Sometimes, evangelism seems to others like an assault or a deception.  People who aren't churched have described how they feel more like targets than people, as if we only want to know them so we can put another notch on our Bible.

Have I knocked on doors?  A few times.  Have I talked to people just to evangelize them?  Nope.  I'm way too lazy for that.  But do I (or does my family) share the Gospel?  You bet.  And most of the time, even the unchurched actually thank us for the experience.   How's that, you say?  They *thank* us?

Many years ago, when we married, we decided we were going to be fertilizer, to be Christ in this world as much as we could.  We have never worked specifically with the intention of making other Christians.  Instead, we have just lived our Christian lives unapologetically and unpretentiously wherever and with whomever we find ourselves.  And I've been told more than once that our family has the gift of evangelism.  I still marvel at that, and yet the people speak for themselves.

Let me tell you a little about our family life.  We have three teenage boys.  They are quite normal in every sense of the word.  We have our problems, our kids fight, our house is a mess, and our yard is the embarrassment of the street.  Our pool doesn't work (so we put a couple of couches in it where the boys can hang out).  Our paint is peeling.  Tiles are coming off the walls in the bathrooms and we haven't managed to collect the money or energy to remodel them.  There's cat fur from one end of the house to the other, and more days than not, we share a kitchen with the ants.  Our house is most definitely "lived-in."

In addition to a consulting practice, we both teach (one in high school and one as an adjunct professor at two local colleges), we are active in Boy Scouts, and all five of us (parents and children) are avid gamers.  One son is at a local community college and the other two are in high school.  Three of us play multiple instruments (guitar, flute, saxophones, and lower brass).  Four of us sing, and the two high school boys are in two vocal ensembles each in addition to their instrumental music obligations.  I also dabble in drawing and painting, and in various places around you will find bags or boxes or shelves of colored pencils, charcoal and graphite, water colors, pastels, markers, or whatever the latest interesting medium is.  Our house is much like we are:  messy, eclectic, and very, very full.

But often we find our sons' friends making themselves at home.  A couple of them even have keys.  It is not unusual for me to wake up to discover three or four or more guests have spent the night, strewn about couches, beds, futons, and computer desk chairs like our cats, napping wherever they found a little space to get horizontal.  School friends, scout friends, church friends -- as a parent, I have never found our lives boring. 

I rarely know what I'm going to wake up to on Saturday morning.  They stay up all night, go on wee-hours treks to the local Denny's or 7-11 or Wal-Mart, and cook (or bake) everything from homemade mac and cheese to fortune cookies with prom invitations inside them.  We run a daytime teenage taxi service.  All of us engage in quite colorful language more often than we probably should, and we laugh a lot and tease and joke.  You will even occasionally smell the (legal) "medical" marijuana my son and his friends will use.  We argue (and debate -- one of my sons is an accomplished debater), we get our pride wounded, and we annoy each other with frequent and predictable regularity.

Even more odd is that very few of the visitors who find themselves at our home are churched.  One is LDS.  One is Christian, but his family is going through some really hard times, and he finds himself at home with us.  Most of them will tell you they don't go to church, or haven't been since they were a little kid.  A couple of them are gay.   Some have one parent, some two, some three or four with remarriage.  All of them are most definitely teenage boys, and we have the phones, computers, consoles, and internet bandwidth to prove it. 

How does this translate into evangelism?  We just are who we are, and we do what we do, and whoever comes over is along for the ride.  I have very few rules in my house ... no girls in the bedrooms, nothing illegal, and if you stay the night on Saturday night (even if that doesn't involve sleep), you go with us Sunday morning, because I don't want to miss Sunday School or church because someone doesn't have a ride or can't figure out what they want to do.  When we go, you go to Sunday School even if you don't like it, and you have your fanny in a pew when the worship service starts.  We pick up an elderly grandparent on Sundays as well, and because the care providers serve lunch early, we have to go to some kind of lunch every single Sunday if Grandma is going to eat.  That means that we wake up whoever is there, roll them into the car (or sometimes two or even three cars), and off we go. Usually we aren't done till two or three in the afternoon after some random kind of food we've never tried before.

Oddly, there really isn't any pressure.  I've made it clear to my kids that I don't want to have to sort everything out Sunday morning, so if their friends stay, they go with us, and everyone understands that.  They're free to stay or not.  When we go to church, they aren't subjected to pressured sales tactics, guilt trips, or emotion-laden altar calls.  They usually all go up to the altar for communion, and we don't tell them what to do, but I've noticed that they tend to sort themselves out pretty well.  Those who would consider themselves believers generally partake, and those who don't don't -- and we don't judge.  No inquisition.  No dictating.  You go.  You behave like a courteous human being.  That's it.  Then we all go to lunch, where we pray over the food and otherwise act like a relatively normal human family. 

Does that even qualify as evangelism?

I would generally think it wouldn't, but more than once I've found that kids who come want to come back.  They like the other kids.  Even if they don't care about God, they aren't miserable.  As parents we are very, very human, but we are faithful and affectionate (if sometimes cranky and argumentative), and the kids all somehow sense the difference between the fighting that leads to fear, disruption, alienation, or even violence, and the fighting that leads to sharp tones, annoyance, frowns, and lots of eye-rolling.  More than one has described our house as a safe and healthy (if not particularly sanitary) place, and they all feel welcomed and comfortable.  As a church we are equally messy and imperfect but also equally unpretentious and faithful, and the kids sense that as well.

Most of our sons' friends call us mom and dad, and if they're with us, we love them just the way we do our own kids.  We don't coddle them.  We don't tolerate things we find truly offensive.  Quite a few of them have been shocked to hear f-bombs dropped (yes, even occasionally by the grown-ups) without comment because words are just words, but misusing God's name is disrespecting him, and that, I will not tolerate.  When I have to tell someone this, they are often surprised, but always quick to be respectful.  We're this strange bridge between the world and the church where everyone is welcome so long as they all play nice.

And in the end, isn't that what evangelism really is?  The evangelist is nothing more and nothing less than a bridge between the world and the church, where people in the world can encounter Christ and Christians, and Christians can get to know people from the world and be their friends.  True evangelism isn't door-knocking or stadium crusades or pressured sales -- it's loving the world as Jesus did and befriending it, sacrificially if necessary.  It's called a sanctuary for a reason.  We simply provide sanctuary for anyone who wants to come.  Rest, welcome, food, safety, a laugh (or six), maybe even a bawdy joke or two, and prayer before meals together and Sunday morning expeditions as well, because that's just who we are.  Jesus didn't challenge us to figure out how to be the salt of the earth or the light of the world.  It's not something we do.  It's something we ARE.

So love the people around you.  Really LOVE them.  Care about their pains.  Hug them when they hurt.  Joke with them and beat them at computer games.  Laugh at the cats with them.  Cram too many people into the car so they all have rides.  Cheer for them at their concerts and tournaments.  Don't shine it up and put a bow on it so they think you're "good" Christians.  Let them see real humans who really sin and trust in a real Savior.  Bridge the gap.

De-Served?

     In recent days the debate over "gay rights" was refueled by bills before state legislatures dubbed "freedom of religion laws."  The poster child in many of the debates was a Christian couple who had a bakery. They were sued because they refused to bake a cake for a gay couple's wedding. As has happened at every juncture in this controversy, the debate has grown heated.
     As Christians, how should we think about these issues? Unfortunately the arguments on both sides are often ill-informed or overly simplistic.

     Any number of comparisons might be drawn on either side. Would we think it acceptable for a bakery to refuse to bake a cake for a minority couple's wedding? Would we accept the argument that a company could refuse to hire an otherwise-qualified applicant merely because they are female? Of course not.
     On the other hand, could we insist in good conscience that a Jewish printer be forced to print signs for a neo-nazi rally under threat of lawsuit? Would we be willing to require that an African-American tailor take a job sewing hoods for a Klan event? Only the most callous or fanatical among us could answer yes.
     Who's right? Can there be any winners in this contest of laws and wills and morals? And which of these comparisons is most appropriate?
     In the first scenarios, someone is being discriminated against because of an indisputably innate physical characteristic that doesn't otherwise impair their ability to pay for services or perform the work. Some argue that sexual orientation is no different -  that people are born with one sexual orientation or the other.
     In the second set of scenarios, someone is forced to ply their trade in support of something they find deeply offensive. Should anyone who owns a business be forced to support something so morally repugnant to them, so violating of their consciences, even if that event will not impact them personally?
     The argument over whether being gay is by nature or by choice will likely rage for years to come.  All humans are born with sinful inclinations, but all humans also choose their actions. It's possible that both sides are equally right (or equally wrong), so how can this be resolved?

     Sadly, it seems unlikely that either side of the debate will ever be willing or able to walk a mile in the others' shoes. It's too easy for some Christians to wag an accusing finger at the advocates of homosexual rights and insist that they shouldn't be required to condone sin, because hating the sin is always easier than loving the sinner. It's also too easy (and often astonishingly hypocritical) for the LGBT community to hide behind inflammatory epithets like "bigot" or "homophobe" because nobody wants to hear that someone considers their choices morally unacceptable. Sadly, both sides end up succumbing to the same disease - an inability to show compassion (or even tolerance) for someone whose convictions differ from their own.
     One might hope the homosexual community could show the tolerance and acceptance it craves, but at this point that is a remote possibility. Christian-sounding groups have burned too many bridges, and high-profile activists on both sides have drawn lines that entrench them in perpetual, angry intolerance. While anything is possible with God, it appears to be a remote possibility that either side will soften their hard hearts.

     This issue, as with many others, seems destined to remain part of the ammunition with which the church is assaulted and persecuted. From John the Baptist, who was beheaded because he preached against Herod stealing his brother's wife, to Henry VIII, who split the church so he could get the divorce(s) he wanted, people will go to great lengths to defend their sin from the word of God. We should expect no more and no less.
     Against this, God's word calls us to a different path. We are called to do what others cannot - forgive as we have been forgiven, love our enemies, and pray for those who persecute us. We are called to follow the perfect example of Christ, to eat with sinners, and even if we were qualified to cast the first stone, to withhold it instead. Unlike the world, we are called to love as we have been loved, sin and all. We are called to always be ready to explain our hope with gentleness and patience, not skimping on Law or Gospel, but persisting in love. It's an almost impossible demand, and the world is not called to this, but we are.

     So, what of our couple who refused to bake the wedding cake for the gay couple? No doubt they were as well-intentioned as the Jewish printer or the black seamstress, and they truly objected to what the wedding cake would symbolize and celebrate, and according to God's word, rightly so.
     But did refusing to make the cake serve God's purpose? What was the goal? I don't know anyone who takes the presence of a wedding cake as a sign of the bakery's sanction of the marriage. Why, then, should baking this couple's cake imply approval of their partnership? Would the baker also refuse to make a cake for the wedding of a couple who divorced their previous spouses to marry each other? Would they even ask? Would they refuse to bake for a couple that had lived together before marriage? If the purpose is to not condone sexual sin, why pick on the gays and not the adulterers or the fornicaters? Singling out one sin and ignoring the others means the message is lost in the noise of inconsistency and hypocrisy, doing little good and great harm.

     Sometimes the Christian's best witness is setting a silent example and turning the other cheek. I have had three different gay friends ask me how I could be a Christian and also be their friend. I always give them the same answer: I don't think God approves of your choices, but when I get done cleaning out my own closet I'll have time to start on yours, and that isn't likely to be for a very long time. The humility of recognizing and acknowledging that we are no less sinful than the gay or lesbian in front of us advances God's kingdom farther and faster than strident condemnation ever will.
     How, then, can we bear witness, be faithful, and love our sinful neighbors as Christ loved our sinful selves? That is a thornier question. If the couple were to bake that cake, would they be loving their neighbor or betraying their Lord? If we don't put God's disapproval of their lifestyle in their face at every opportunity, are we living the Gospel or merely abandoning the Law?

     Perhaps the question must be answered on an individual basis. It's entirely possible that not all Christian bakers should give the same answer, or even that any one Christian baker shouldn't give the same answer to every couple. Our witness needs to be as individual as the individuals we witness to. 
     The administration of Law and Gospel is a pastoral decision, not one that can be made legislatively and applied uniformly. Therefore neither church nor government can or should dictate one response for all circumstances. No pastor can reasonably pass uniform judgment on those who choose to bake, and under our Constitution with its Bill of Rights guaranteeing freedom of religion, no U.S. government should force someone with an established religious conviction to violate their consciences.

     And just as Muslim extremists have brought rejection and persecution to Muslims in the U.S., so Christian extremists are bringing rejection to U.S. Christians. The Taliban and Westborough Baptist are unfortunate bedfellows, bringing great harm to both friend and foe.
     This leaves Christians in a lose-lose situation. If the bakery bakes that cake they are assaulted from one side, and if they don't they are assaulted from the other. Despite Constitutional protestations to the contrary, freedom of religion is rapidly becoming a thing of the past.

     So what do we suggest the bakery do? The only advice I have to give is to pray - a lot - and when they follow their consciences, to be prepared for the backlash, from whichever side it may come. Whether it comes from one side or the other, Jesus' words remain true: "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."  (Mt. 5:10-12)

The New Science?

     Perhaps we as "modern" Christians have not given enough consideration to witchcraft, paganism, and even the occult.

     Now that I have your attention, let me warn you that what follows comes from a tiny bit of experience, a little knowledge, a fair bit of pondering, and a boatload of speculation.  I offer this for discussion, not education.
     Secondly, let me reassure you that this isn't a defense of that which the Bible truly teaches to be evil.  We are to leave the dead to be brought back by the Lord, not the occult. We are to discover our futures as we live them out. And demons are still not our friends and definitely not to be trifled with.
     Finally, this is not an argument for modernistic or liberal theology.  Jesus is still the second person of the Trinity.  He is still the only way, truth, and life.  The Bible is still God's inerrant and infallible word.  Right and wrong are still right and wrong, and the world still needs the Gospel as desperately as ever.

     All that said, I would still suggest that we may not have given enough thought to other "spiritual" phenomena.  Think back five hundred years or so.  Science was in its infancy.  The church insisted the Bible taught that the world was flat and the earth was the center of the universe around which the sun revolved.  Today, few if any of us are threatened by talk of the planet earth and its place in the solar system.  Similarly, while we may not agree with every "scientific" proclamation, most don't see science as anti-Christian, and the notion of a scientist who is Christian generally doesn't end in excommunication or imprisonment.
     Nor have we swallowed science whole or made it God, and the fact that some outside Christianity have made it their God doesn't generally move Christians to the opinion that all science is evil.  Rather, we have largely come to the (I believe correct) conclusion that it is a tool, and like any other tool, it can be used or misused.  Certainly worshiping the creature rather than the Creator is never good, but if some people wrongly worship snails, that doesn't make the snail evil.  It is still just a snail, and as Scripture tells us, everything God created is good if it is recognized as his gift and received with thanksgiving. That some people revere cows does not leave most Christians with the conviction that beef is of the devil.  Mostly, we have learned that the physical things of this world are themselves spiritually neutral, even good gifts, and it is our actions that are sinful, not the less-than- or non-sentient things around us.
     We've made peace with the world that is seen and measured, but I would suggest that perhaps our relationship with the less tangible world is still quite young and undeveloped. Let's look at an easier example first.  Would (or should) we immediately conclude that ESP is evil?  No doubt its long affiliation with charlatans and occultists leaves most people dismissive if not condemning, but must we conclude that those with unusual mental abilities are evil?  What if clairvoyance, telepathy, or telekinesis are merely gifts humans have, and we are talking about something we simply haven't adequately studied?  Perhaps they're neither angelic nor demonic, but merely talented, with a talent that can be used for good or evil.
     
     A more careful examination of Scripture muddies the waters even more.  Consider 1 Samuel 28. The witch of Endor that called Samuel's spirit back to speak after his death on that basis correctly identified the man before her as Saul, and the spirit of Samuel she called up out of the earth prophesied for the Lord then as he had in life.  Certainly Scripture repeatedly condemns mediums and spiritists, but clearly it's not because there is no reality in what they do.
     In Numbers 22 we meet Balaam, to whom we are told the Moabites brought a "fee for divination."  Still, God used Balaam the diviner to deliver his own message, and we are told that he sought God's will.  What are we to think of Balaam?
     The Magi were astrologers.  They studied the heavens for signs and portents, and then followed one star in particular, because they were convinced it must mark the birth of a king. Do we condemn them for divining from the stars or commend them for following the one star for which they are remembered?
     Consider the transfiguration.  Some believe the glow of the transfiguration was Jesus' perfect, glowing aura.  They are also quick to point out that early Christian artwork shows full body "halos" and only later did halos become crown-like.  Do we think it impossible that some can see these auras?
     Joseph and Daniel interpreted dreams and signs.  Do we automatically assume that those who claim to interpret dreams today are crazy, lying, or demonic?  Has interpreting dreams become evil since Daniel's time?
     In addition, there is an important distinction to be made between knowledge and action. When Adam and Eve ate the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, that did not mean it became OK to do evil.  We know how to clone mammals, but that doesn't mean we should go and clone humans. We may know of things that we are clearly told not to do.  Did the medium really call up Samuel?  Yes.  Does that mean we should call up the spirits of dead people or patronize someone claiming to be a medium?  Certainly not.  Learning to discern between fact and fiction is not enough.  We must then discern between that which God says is good and that which he forbids.  Even today, there are some who call themselves Christian who believe God has forbidden transfusions, or medical care of any kind, or even machinery or electricity. Who has correctly discerned God's will?

     Let me offer one more less threatening example before moving into more frightening territory.  We've learned that many actions of "shamans" or "witch doctors" actually have roots in science and psychology.  Concoctions often have medicinal substances among their ingredients.  Rituals often have intense psychological consequences that make a very real difference.  Mostly we've learned to ferret out the truth and separate it from the merely superstitious, but the admixture of superstition doesn't remove the medicinal properties of the concoction or the psychological effects of the ritual.  Do we reject the good gift because some have built false worship around it?

     With the slightest nudge, this proposition broadens into unnerving territory.  Alchemy used to be thought occultic, and perhaps for some it was, but now we recognize in it the seeds of chemistry.  Astrologists likely assign more meaning to the heavenly bodies than they're due, but they made great strides in observing the heavens.  What if things we soundly and roundly (and even appropriately) condemn have a basis in morally neutral facts?
     Having caught the scent, follow the trail wherever it leads and the trip is likely to be treacherous.
    Certainly we don't consort with demons or worship the devil, but is every remedy in "witchcraft" evil?  What if a token, a brew, or the burning of an herb has a real effect?  We don't worship nature either, but what if there exist previously unproven energies that can, in fact, be accessed?  We may not be comfortable with a lot of what Edgar Cayce said, but can we ignore the evidence (even within the historic, orthodox church!) that auras exist and that there have been (are?) those who can see and interpret them?
     Even more unnerving, what if some "fortunetelling" devices are not demonic but natural in ways we don't understand?  Is there some sort of Heisenberg-esque reality behind tea leaves or Ouiji boards?  Do the lines on our palms naturally reflect facts about us in ways we don't understand?  Do changes in the astronomical arrangement of heavenly bodies have subtle but poorly understood effects on our lives?

     Christians often accept and welcome what are, on their surface, stranger concepts.  What effect does a blessing or the laying-on of hands have?  How is there a real sense in which bread and wine become body and blood?  What difference does water or oil or the speaking of words make?  We readily accept the incomprehensible in our own faith -- Perhaps, though other faiths may be misguided, there are underlying realities that are worth studying.

     The issues are multi-layered and sometimes lacking in clear information or direction. That said, these things do seem to demand that we really understand them, discern their origins, and sort the good gifts of God from the evil to be shunned.  If we don't do the work now, we might just find ourselves teaching that the unseen world is also flat.
     This is not a plea for universalism, acceptance of pagan religions, or participation in the occult.  Rather, it is a plea for open-minded study.  Perhaps in the 21st century, we can avoid the egg on our faces from insisting that the sun revolves around the earth because God said so, and instead use what we know to help guide the alchemists of our day into the chemistry of tomorrow and the shamans and Reiki healers of our day into the hospitals of tomorrow, all while standing uncompromisingly on the foundation of the apostles and prophets.

     Ready?  Discuss.

On the Pointy End of the Fence Part 3: A Balancing Act

     How do feelings fit into our faith?  Some people base everything on their feelings and experiences.  They decide what is true based on a "burning in the bosom" or their "sensing the Spirit."  Others reject feelings entirely and act as if they have no place in our faith life at all.  In some churches, even just an "Amen" or lifting of hands to God is frowned upon as a breach of propriety.
     Scripture doesn't reject our feelings and experiences as invalid or inappropriate.  God's Word is full of examples of intense emotions expressed to God.  Crying and dancing, kissing the hem of Jesus' robe or washing his feet with tears are commended and rewarded, not rejected or condemned.  It is natural and appropriate that God's infinite majesty and bottomless love should provoke powerful feelings and strong responses.
     That said, feelings cannot serve as the foundation of our faith.  Contrary to some postmodern thinking, truth isn't different for each person and does not depend on our feelings and experiences.  Our feelings and experiences can serve as hints or pointers, but ultimately, for the word "truth" to have any meaning, it must be objective and not subjective.
     The question then becomes, "What are the proper roles of feeling and experience in our faith life?"  Dangers arise on either side should they become out-of-balance.
     If we allow feelings to become the substance of faith, spiritually we're just chasing the next cool experience.  Religion becomes a drug, and we spend our lives seeking the next and better high.  When the good feelings elude us, we are left looking for our next emotional fix.  If this is faith, it should not surprise us when people move on to sex, drugs (and rock 'n roll), or anything else that can push them to the next intense experience.
     There are good reasons to value feelings but, out of balance, they can wreak havoc. First, consider some reasons to forego the hype in favor of substance, to allow facts to rule feelings.

1.  Feelings are ephemeral.
     How we feel changes with a multitude of factors, ranging from the sublime to the irrelevant.  It's like the weather in Chicago: If you don't like it, wait five minutes.
     Think back.  How many times have you been moved by something priceless -- the love of God moves you to joy, a success encourages you, a sunset gives you a quiet smile -- and then it evaporates when someone cuts you off in traffic you can't afford something you need or want, or someone brings you low with a thoughtless comment.
     On the flip side, how many times has sadness at a profound loss, guilt or shame upon hearing the law and recognizing your sin, or loneliness when you can't be with loved ones been abruptly lifted by a stroke of good luck, a compliment, a joke, or a song that brings something else to mind?  The most profound of feelings can be changed by hunger, the weather, or an off-hand comment.  Feelings are not stable enough to be relied on for truth.

2.  Feelings are unanchored and subjective.
     When feelings can change so quickly and for such trivial reasons, they are not anchored in truth.  Feelings are absolutely dependent upon perspective and perception, not facts and evidence.  Even worse, feelings vary by personality type, life circumstances, or worse yet, mental illness.  Will taking prozac change the spiritual value of the preacher's sermon?  On the contrary, it changes us, but it does not change the truth.  If faith is based on anything less than objective facts and evidence, our God is our latest amusement, crush, or medication.  Feelings are, at best, an elastic yardstick from which you can extract any measurement at will and not a valid way to measure truth.

3.  Feelings are isolating.
     The modern diseases of alienation and interpersonal disconnection are a direct result of reliance on feelings to evaluate reality.  Feelings are almost certain to be out of step with someone near you, and frequently completely the opposite of all those around you.  If it's Christmas and you're depressed when everyone around you is glassy-eyed at the candlelight, beautiful carols, and quaint story of no room at the inn, does that mean Jesus is therefore not God incarnate?  If you don't feel the way they do, does that make the message untrue?  And if what's true for you is what you think is true, then you are very much alone in it, because what's true for someone else is likely different.  Feelings are not the Church's one foundation or the tie that binds, they are sinking sand and Elijah's lonely cave.

4.  Feelings are impotent.
     If you choose your faith based on the good feelings you experience, what happens when they change?  You are left with empty hands and heart.  If faith consists of what makes you feel spiritual, what happens when you feel tempted, discouraged, or angry?
     A feeling-based faith has no power to support or change us in the emotional storms of life, when we desperately need someone to throw us a tangible, objective life ring.  How many people, when offered comfort, have a hundred and one reasons why it doesn't help or won't work?  Tossing a drowning swimmer or a falling climber a lifeline doesn't help if it's not anchored to anything.  In times of struggle, feelings have nothing to offer us and no power to change us.

5.  Feelings are contradictory.
     "Mixed feelings" is a common term for a reason.  Our feelings are mixed most of the time, not always half-and-half, but rarely pure.  If feelings are the foundation of faith, is it only half-true?  How can we have any assurance?  If feelings are the basis on which we make decisions, when it really matters, how can we have any confidence in them?  Is it any wonder they change so quickly when they were mixed to begin with?  If it's all about how you feel, you may never fully escape the nagging doubts and second-guessing.  If truth is based on feelings, there is no truth.

     Now, all of this is NOT to say that feelings have no value.  God created emotional creatures, and to divorce ourselves from emotions is to abandon that which makes us alive and human and to lose our weather vane, our traffic signal.  We ignore feelings at our own peril!

1.  Feelings are signals.
     No, feelings don't determine right and wrong or good and evil, but they help us sense where or when to look deeper.  Whether physical or emotional, pain's purpose is to let us know that something is amiss.  Itches prompt us to scratch, and feelings should prompt us to ask hard questions.  They prompt us to go to the doctor, where facts and evidence can be collected to arrive at a diagnosis.  They are important symptoms, but they are not the disorder itself, and while treating the symptoms is not a cure, ignoring them isn't either.

2.  Feelings can motivate.
     We can be chasing feelings we desire, such as safety, affection, pleasure, satiation, or belonging.  We could also be avoiding unpleasant feelings like shame, guilt, pain, loneliness, or fear.  In either case, feelings push us to things we might not do otherwise. They can ignite us or hold us back.  Often they submit to the will, but not always.  Feelings may not tell us what to do, but desire or discomfort can make us need to do something.

3.  Feelings are an appropriate human response.
     God intended us to feel, created us to feel, and calls us to feel.  Joy and grief, resolve and compassion, affection and anger are all things God asks of us in different circumstances.  Jesus, the perfect demonstration of God's will, felt loyalty and angry refusal. Jesus was moved with compassion in the face of suffering people and resolute in the face of temptation.  Jesus felt affection for little children, his mother, and the disciple whom he loved.  Jesus wept.  Perfect, sinless Jesus sweat blood and cried out in agony.  Feelings are part of God's intention for us.

4.  Feelings facilitate communication.
     Mad, sad, and glad are part of our fundamental human vocabulary.  We may speak languages incomprehensible to one another, but still read fear, fury, joy, sadness, pride, and pain in faces without a single word.  Texts are one thing, but a phone call where you can hear a person's voice is another, and a face-to-face meeting where we can observe body language is yet another level of communication.  Words can mean different things, often distinguishable only by inflection or body language.  They form an instinctive, non-verbal, universal human language.

5.  Feelings enrich our lives.
     Our ability to feel makes the difference between dull numbness and life lived in vivid color.  Those who have ever had their emotions numbed by medication, shock, or grief have described themselves using phrases such as "half alive," "half awake," "walking around like a zombie," "not really there," etc.  When a portion of our body is numbed, we say it is "deadened" because it feels less than fully alive.  Just as God created humans to feel, when we don't feel we are less than fully alive.
     There is also an intimate connection between the arts and human emotions.  Much in the fine arts is, at its root, expressive, and the art that we admire most is that which touches us most deeply.  Master musicians are not computers, but living, soulful, passionate people who pour themselves into their performance.  An educated and thoughtful ear can readily hear the difference between a master musician and the quantized, auto-tuned, or entirely computer-generated.  It's just not the same.  This is true of all of life:  A life devoid of feelings is a life half lived.

     In the long run, can emotionless faith be any faith at all?  Only the hardest of hearts remains unmoved when shown the incredible things God has done for us.  If they don't move us to feel, have they moved us at all?  Faith without feeling is barren, dry, and cold -- Is it any wonder that churches without feeling are empty too?
     God made us human, feelings and all, and God doesn't make mistakes.  He gave them to us for a purpose, so should we not bring those feelings to the Lord along with the rest of us? However, as with any good gift, things go south pretty quickly when we misuse them.  Keeping each in their proper roles is how we walk between the dual perils of robotic faith and roller-coaster feelings.  It's a balancing act.

1.  Feelings are not truth but can point us to the truth.
     Things are not right merely because they feel right.  They are objectively true or they are mere placebos.  That is why we examine, discuss, and express feelings, but we turn to God's word for truth.

2.  Feelings are a response to God's word but do not interpret or judge it.
     Just because you'd rather have warm fuzzies than fire and brimstone doesn't mean that God just hugged it out with Sodom and Gomorrah.  Just because a murderer feels the world is better off without her victim or a molester believes he is loving the child he violates doesn't make their feelings truth or their behavior acceptable.  And just because you've convinced yourself that you weren't born to be heterosexual or society accepts any consensual sex doesn't mean God won't judge homosexual sex or fornication as sin.  God will be worshiped and obeyed on his terms, not yours.

3.  Feelings are a tool in relationships but not the basis of them.
     Marriages built on feelings often fall apart because feelings are ephemeral.  That so many people today equate love with romance or infatuation instead of commitment is one factor feeding the rising divorce rate, increasing numbers of children born to single moms, and a great deal of pain.  Romantic love is pleasant, even enchanting, but real love is a far more serious -- even deadly serious -- proposition.   Most Christians can recite John 3:16, but have we really listened to it?  God gave his Son!  When Paul says husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church, that's deadly serious, and just as Christ loved us and gave himself for us while we were yet sinners, husbands' commitment doesn't end when she's grouchy or not as pretty as she used to be. Habakkuk and Good Friday put that in sharp focus.

4.  Feelings are natural and appropriate but are to be controlled.
     Yes, Jesus wept over Lazarus.  He also wept and sweat blood in Gethsemane.  Abraham certainly loved Isaac, but when God told Abraham to make him a burnt offering, he obeyed.  Scripture didn't say, "Be angry, but do not sin unless you're furious!"  Feelings aren't bad, but often we need to act in spite of them.  As many combat veterans will tell you, courage isn't lack of fear, it's being afraid and still doing what needs to be done. Uncontrolled emotions translate into violence, impulsiveness, short-sighted choices, and failure.  Following feelings without reason or restraint eventually leaves us inconstant and empty.

5.  Feelings can be enjoyed but not relied on.
     As Martin Marty wrote about, summertime faith is nice, but sometimes winter catches us, cold and bleak, when rainbows and sunshine are nowhere to be found.  The things we can rely on  -- God and his objectively true word -- are constant and unchangeable.  If we are only faithful because it feels good and right, what happens when life just hurts?  What happens when we live with pain or a disability, when someone we love deeply dies, when we fail miserably, or when our heart is broken?  All we have been promised is that we are not alone in our trials, and that in the end God will wipe all those tears away.

     Keeping things in balance is a challenge, and sometimes, even though we're pulled to one side or the other, the right thing to do is to stay on the fence.  It is not a comfortable position to sit on the pointy end of the fence, but it is often the correct one and the wisest one.

On the Pointy End of the Fence Part 2: Counting to One Three Times

It is always a challenge to teach about something that lies beyond human reason or experience.  It's even more of a challenge to teach something when it is never explicitly stated in scripture.  However challenging, it is still necessary, and the fact that it is beyond human reason or experience and never explicitly stated may make it uncomfortable but does not make it untrue.  This challenge goes a long way toward explaining why the Athanasian Creed is so much longer than the others, and why it is spoken in church once a year, if ever.  Repetitive, almost song-like in nature, its many verses go something like this:  "The Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God; and yet there are not three gods but one God."

Formally called the doctrine of the Trinity, this one point goes a long way toward dividing the orthodox from the heterodox, the true from the false, the Christian church from the cult or sect. Many heresies (false teachings), both ancient and modern, result from wrong-headed attempts to reconcile what scripture teaches about the godhead with human reason. 

In its simplest form, teaching about the Trinity can be summarized in four simple statements, offered here with a few places where the ideas can be found in Scripture.  And so begin many wrong paths and one right one.

1. The Father is fully God.  On this one point scripture and reason agree so thoroughly that it requires no list of passages or arguments beyond the most basic. (1 Cor. 8:4-6) If you believe that God exists and that the Bible is at least in some sense God's word, you acknowledge God as Father.  It is the most instinctive and primitive presence, the starting point, and the one person of the Trinity clearly accepted by Jews and Christians alike.   

2. The Son is distinct from the Father, but is fully and equally God. The Father shows the distinction between Father and Son at Jesus' baptism and again at the transfiguration, "This is my beloved son with whom I am well-pleased." (Mt. 3:16-17, Mt. 17:1-5) Jesus not only claimed to be separate from, distinct from the Father, he demonstrated it simply by teaching and praying. "Father, if it be your will, let this cup pass from me." (Mt. 26:36-46) "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (Lu. 23:34) And finally, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." (Lu. 23:46)

That Jesus is "very God of very God" requires a little more study.  Because Jesus was fully human, and because scripture describes him as "begotten," (Jn. 1:18, Jn. 3:16-18) it is tempting to view Jesus as a second-tier deity, a created being, or merely a prophet. However, Paul emphatically rejects this (Col. 2:9), and Jesus' own statements don't leave us that option. Multiple times, Jesus claims to be God. (Jn. 8:48-59, Jn. 10:25-34, Jn. 14:1-14) Indeed, as he stood before the Sanhedrin on trial, the high priest questions him and declares his response blasphemous because he claimed to be God. (Mt. 26:62-66) How can Jesus be a prophet if his claims about himself are false?

3. The Holy Spirit is distinct from the Father and the Son, but is fully and equally God. That the Spirit is God is rarely a matter of debate. Peter explicitly calls the Holy Spirit God. (Acts 5:3-4) Rather, detractors commonly argue that the Holy Spirit is no separate thing at all. Is your spirit separate from you? They maintain that it is that unseen spiritual aspect of God, part of God, just as your spirit is part of you.

Unlike with humans, however, the Bible talks about the Holy Spirit being sent and acting independently (though always in perfect harmony with the Father and the Son). We can't send our spirits to go lead or teach. We don't talk about what our Spirit will do when he comes, but Jesus told his disciples what the Holy Spirit would do when he "arrived." (Jn.14:26, Jn. 15:26) Whether you, like the Eastern church, say he proceeds from the Father, or whether, like the Western church, you confess that he proceeds from the Father and the Son, in that statement you declare that the Holy Spirit is distinct from the Father and the Son and is truly God.

4. There is one God. On this point the canonical books leave no room for doubt. Old Testament and New Testament, the Scriptures are unambiguous. From the singular "us" and "we" of creation (Gen. 1:26-27) to the great declaration in Deuteronomy ("Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One." - Deut. 6:4), from the one Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the great commission (Mt. 28:18-20) to Paul's majestic proclamation of, "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all," (Eph. 4:4-6) both Jews and Christians (and even Muslims) are absolutely monotheistic. Those who stray from this, such as the Mormons (LDS), either change the very words of the Bible to suit them or add books that say what they want to believe.

Here is not the place to detail all the myriad ways people get this wrong.  The topic is too complex and there are too many to cover. That said, every one of the ways this goes awry begins with the same mistake -- putting human reason above Scripture.  Reason is an invaluable and indispensable tool, to be sure, but deity, by its very nature, surpasses human understanding.  If we can fully comprehend God, our God, as Phillips once said, is far too small.

Almost without exception, attempts to logically harmonize these four statements within the confines of human understanding involve undermining or rejecting one or more of them. Three of the most common examples are subordinationism, modalism, and polytheism.

• Subordinationism: Belief that one person of the Trinity (generally the Son) is a created being or somehow inferior to the Father.  (Ex. Jehovah's Witnesses)
• Modalism: Belief that the Father, Son, and Spirit are three faces or "modes" of the one God, rather than three separate persons.  (Ex. Oneness Pentecostals)
• Polytheism: Belief that the Father, Son, and Spirit are all gods, and that while we may worship only one god, there exists more than one god.  (Ex. Mormons)

It's clear from the examples given that these are not merely ancient heresies.  In each case, the group named self-identifies as Christian (it isn't) and actively tries to draw people out of orthodox churches and into their heterodox group.

The larger lesson, however is the danger of setting even reason over God's word.  While C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity does a wonderful job of helping the reader get their mind around the notion of the Trinity, even his incredible intellect can't fully explain or prove it.  God's being and nature are far beyond our merely human minds, and insisting that everything must make sense to our human intellect is putting ourselves in the place of God -- creating an idol out of our intellect.

Make no mistake: This is not an argument for check-your-brain-at-the-door-Christianity. Reason is a precious tool God has given to help people understand what he would have us know from nature and his word. But, as with any good thing, when we set it in the highest place, the place that belongs only to God, we make it into an idol and we become idolaters.

So, like scientists, honest theologians will sometimes have to simply report observations they can't explain. Sometimes, like scientists, honest theologians must confess that there are limits to their understanding and they just don't have all the answers. Sometimes honest theologians, like scientists, have to admit that what they are saying is theory (adiaphora) and not law. In the end, we are obligated to teach what is in the Scriptures whether or not we can explain it, prove it, or even fully understand it.

Like grace alone and universal grace, this is another point of theology where we must not take one side or the other, but must remain, as it were, on the fence. Trying to make God's nature conform to human reason by rejecting the unity or the trinity of God won't work. God's word doesn't make it comfortable for us to explain the truth to those who worship human intellect, but Scripture demands that we take the logically uncomfortable position of maintaining both that the Father is God, the Son is God, the Holy Spirit is God ... and that God is one. 

On the Pointy End of the Fence Part 1: The Single-Sided Coin

Most Christian theologies or systems of doctrine would like to be known for taking scripture at its word, but clearly not all of them can be right. In an attempt to compare competing views, it is often useful to focus on one issue (or one issue at a time) and see how it plays out in each. Of the most immediate importance and instructional value is the doctrine of justification (how we are saved) and its practical application.

Scripture teaches that God loves the world and everyone in it. It also teaches that we cannot save ourselves, but that God in his mercy has saved us despite our efforts and intentions.  It would seem that these are both merely stating the obvious ... until we ask the one question that causes so many to abandon the Gospel: If grace is universal and we are saved by grace alone as a free gift, why isn't everyone saved? It is at this point that what the Bible teaches has sometimes been called a single-sided coin - The statements are true, but logical conclusions are not.

To begin, consider a few passages from scripture:

John 3:16 - "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."  Here we are not only told that God loved the world, Jesus goes on to say that "whoever believes" will not be condemned but saved.  That grace is given freely to all who would have it -- to all who believe.

2 Corinthians 5:14-15 - "For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again."  Let's hear that again:  "And he died for all, that those who live ..."  Paul makes it clear that, though Christ died for all, not all lived.  Grace is universal:  Eternal life is not.

Romans 5:18 - Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men."  In a sense this passage really forces the issue. Those on the fence, as well as those fallen off either side, would all readily agree that Adam's fall brought condemnation to each and every human that ever lived (except Jesus, of course).  How then can anyone justify the assertion that the bringing of life to "all men" refers only to a subset of humans?

1 John 2:2 - "He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world."  In this passage, John specifically refers to the elect as distinct from "the world," and he clearly states that Jesus' atonement was not limited to "our sins" but included the sins of "the whole world."

Scripture seems pretty clear on this point - God's grace is offered freely to all men. His grace is universal - Christ died for the sins of the whole world. The Christian, the pastor, and the evangelist can say to every single person, "Christ died for you."  

Some climb off on the Calvinist side of the fence, declaring their conviction that all doesn't really mean all, and "the whole world" doesn't include everyone. Instead, they adopt the teaching more formally known as "particular atonement" (the P in TULIP), in which Christ did not die for everyone, but only for the elect, denying universal grace.

Calvinists frequently cite Romans 9 to support their teaching of particular atonement. While this seems to make sense on the surface, a deeper look at the passages in context tells a more complex story.

If someone were to summarize Romans 9 in one sentence, it might go like this: Israel may be Abraham's biological children, but the REAL children of God are those who believe and trust solely in Jesus Christ.

Imagine a father making his will. He has three sons, the first two biological, and the third adopted. The oldest, despite the father's constant and persevering attempts to reach him with love and affection, has disowned his father, and they have been estranged for many years. The father leaves his estate to his younger two sons, one biological and one adopted, and leaves nothing to the one who has rejected a relationship with his father these many years. Does the father not have that right? Could you blame him?

If we asked why the estranged son didn't inherit, few people would blame it on the father. The child estranged themselves - they ought to expect nothing.

On the other hand, can the younger two take credit for their inheritance? The father could have easily left his estate to a friend, a charity, even a puppy. The father is under no obligation to include any of his children in his will, but he does so, not because they have earned it in some way, but out of a deep and abiding love he has had for his sons since they arrived, tiny and helpless.

So it is with God. As illogical as it might seem, if we don't inherit eternal life it is because we have estranged ourselves from God due to our lack of faith, and if we do, it is purely out of God's love and mercy and not because we have done anything to deserve it. If we are condemned, it is because of a unilateral estrangement on our part, and if we are saved, it is thanks only to a unilateral love and mercy on God's part. Rather than denying universal grace (or grace alone), Romans 9 shows how both are true and necessary.

Rather than turn to Calvinism, others climb off on the synergistic side of the fence, reasoning that if one is saved and another is damned, justice dictates that there must be some difference between the two by which one merited, accessed, or obtained grace and mercy and the other did not. Rather than discarding universal grace, they instead discard grace alone, turning faith into a human work. Among the synergists you will find both Catholics and so-called "American Evangelicals" - the Council of Trent alongside the Four Spiritual Laws. However, if universal grace is undeniable, grace alone is even more so.

Ephesians 2:8-9 - "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast."  Here Paul says that it is by grace, but lest anyone misunderstand, he goes even further.  He says that we were dead (and therefore helpless to do anything for ourselves), and then we were "made alive" -- a specifically passive role.  Then, lest we still cling to our egos, he emphasizes that this is not something for which we can take any credit.  It is not of ourselves.

Romans 3:21-28 - "But now a righteousness from God, apart from the law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short if the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. ... Where then is boasting? It is excluded. On what principle? On that of observing the law? No, but on that of faith. For we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from observing the law.  In the same breath Paul again makes clear both universal grace and grace alone, and then makes a point of saying that faith is not a work of the law either.  Especially when considered alongside Hebrews 12:2, which asserts that it is not us but Jesus who creates and perfects our faith, we can only conclude that faith cannot be something for which we can take credit or by which we bring ourselves into the kingdom.

Romans 11:5-6 - "So too, at the present time there is a remnant chosen by grace. And if by grace, then it is no longer by works; if it were, grace would no longer be grace."  Here Paul states what should be obvious:  If it is by works, it cannot be by grace.  If we mix even a drop of Law into the Gospel we have hopelessly polluted it, because then grace is no longer grace and Christ's work on the cross is declared insufficient.

Galatians 2:15-3:14 - "I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?"  Paul says those who think observing the law gets them anywhere are foolish, and does not even leave room for us to claim cooperation in our salvation farther down the road.  This book is perhaps Paul's most emphatic denunciation of synergism, where he later goes on to say of those who would demand that Christians be circumcised that he wishes they would go the whole way and cut it all off!

Scripture also seems pretty clear on this point. We are saved by grace alone. Christ died for us while we were still sinners, and, while we were still his enemies, reconciled us to God. This reconciliation is a gift, given as to a corpse, for which the corpse can take no credit. There is no work, no action, no step we can take to obtain that for ourselves.

Walther speaks eloquently to this error.  "However, people imagine that, after Christ has done His share, man must still do his, and man is not reconciled to God until both efforts meet.  The sects picture reconciliation as consisting in this, that the Savior made God willing to save men, provided men would be willing on their part to be reconciled.  But that is the reverse of the Gospel.  God is reconciled.  ... (L&G, p 136).

In another place, Walther writes, "By ascribing to man some share in his own salvation, we rob Christ of all His glory.  God has created us without our cooperation, and He wants to save us the same way.  We are to thank Him for having created us with a hope of life everlasting.  Even so He alone wants to save us.  Woe to him who says that he must contribute something towards his own salvation!  He deprives Christ of His entire merit.  For Jesus is called the Savior, not a helper towards salvation, such as preachers are.  Jesus has achieved our entire salvation.  (L&G p 40)"

"Faith is demanded of us, not in order that there might be at least some little work that we are to do, as otherwise there would be no difference between those who go to hell and those who go to heaven.  No;  righteousness is of faith in order that it may be of grace.  Both statements are identical.  When I say: 'A person becomes righteous in the sight of God by faith,' I mean to say: 'He becomes righteous gratuitously, by grace, by God's making righteousness a gift to him.'  Nothing is demanded of the person; he is only told: 'Stretch out your hand, and you have it.'  Just that is what faith is -- reaching out the hand. (L&G p 79)"

"Moreover, in the postils and devotional writings of all modern theologians you may find the doctrine that man is made righteous in the sight of God and saved by faith.  But by faith they understand nothing but what man himself achieves and produces.  Their faith is a product of human energy and resolution.  Such teaching, however, subverts the entire Gospel. ... What God's Word really means when it says that man is justified and saved by faith alone is nothing else than this:  Man is not saved by his own acts, but solely by the doing and dying of his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the whole world.  Over against this teaching modern theologians assert that in the salvation of man two kinds of activity must be noted:  in the first place, there is something that God must do.  His part is the most difficult, for He must accomplish the task of redeeming men.  But in the second place, something is required that man must do ... he has to believe.  This teaching overthrows the Gospel completely. ... Faith is not an achievement of man. ... Believing the Gospel would be, in truth, and immeasurably great and difficult task for us if God were not to accomplish it in us. (The Proper Distinction Between Law and Gospel, pgs 268-270)"

Holding both truths - grace alone and universal grace - in the face of this question is a difficult position to take. Standing on the word of God in this case isn't just sitting on the fence, it's sitting on a picket fence. It makes for uncomfortable seating, to be sure, but if we are really to trust in God's word over human reason, that is where we must stay, pointy ends and all. This ends up being a stumbling block (1Cor. 1:23) and a rock of offense (Rom. 9:32-33), and it is the point at which most Christians part company with the word of God. Sadly, whichever side of the fence they fall on, in the end, all that matters is that they have fallen. In the final analysis, neither Calvinists nor synergists are left standing on the word of God.

How, then, can someone address this simple question of how to reconcile these two scriptural teachings with the fact that some will not be saved? Perhaps we can't. Not only do we not have perfect understanding (1 Cor. 13:12), even perfect understanding might well surpass human reason. As it is, the best we can do is to lay out what scripture says, interpret it on its own terms, and apply it to the best of our ability.

Numerous passages testify to God's love for all the world, though it often goes unrequited, and to the fact that we can do nothing to save ourselves.  It requires no cherry-picking of passages or out-of-context proof-texting to support the notions of universal grace or grace alone. So, along with Paul we must confess that there is no difference. All are equally helpless in their sins, and all are equally atoned-for.

As soon as we start passing judgment on God's word, we have replaced the living God with the idol of our own reason.  It may be uncomfortable, but in the end, the only secure place to stand is on the word of God.

2 Timothy 3:14-4:5