Angry, Ranting Fundamentalists

One of the most effective, yet illegitimate ways to marginalize the position of your opponent is to set up a straw man of your opponent, and to universally characterize that opponent with your shoddy misrepresentation of him.   This seems to have become one of the most effective ways that people have taken to discourse in recent years in order to discredit the ministries of the straw man that has become known as the “angry, ranting fundamentalists.”  Now, to be clear, let’s make two simple admissions from the get-go.

Admission #1: There is such a thing as an angry, ranting fundamentalist. We all know what he looks like, don’t we?  He cares more about externals than internals.  He spends more time on divisiveness than doctrine. He exhibits little to no grace in his interactions with others.  He’ll gladly compromise exegetical integrity and hermeneutical accuracy in order to get his point across.  His lines of separation fall quickly along the debatable paths of music, dress, bible versions, etc. This is the guy that we’re all familiar with, because he comes to our mind immediately when we consider the distasteful subculture that lurks beneath the surface of the network of angry, ranting fundamentalists.

 

Admission #2: Nobody wants to be characterized as an angry, ranting fundamentalist.  Even those whose opinions on doctrine and deportment line up very closely with the movement known as fundamentalism want little to do with the title, because a straw man looms in the forefront, blocking the way to any legitimate claim to the label.  This is understandable.  In fact, it’s more than understandable.  It may even be better understood to be embraceable.  It’s high time, anyways, that we consider allegiances to Christ to be more important than allegiances to labels.  In that way, perhaps the straw man known as the “angry, ranting fundamentalist” has been a service to the church.

So where am I going with this? Not long ago, a friend of mine sent out a series of tweets that really got me thinking.  In those tweets, he accurately exposed the ironic similarities between angry, ranting fundamentalists, and those who try so desperately to distance themselves from them.  His comments challenged and convicted me, and so I’ve expanded on them with one simple purpose. I want you to think and ask yourself this question: In your noble, admirable pursuit to distance yourself from the straw man of the angry, ranting fundamentalist, is it possible that you’re acting just like an angry, ranting fundamentalist?

Here are at least eleven ways that you could know.  If there are more, don’t shy away from passing them along to me and I’ll add them to the list.

      If all you can seem to focus on is angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If you find it necessary to publish your views so that others can take sides with you or against you, then you are adopting the time-tested strategy of an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

      If you resort to anger and ranting against angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If you find it necessary to impose your views on a text in order to make a point about angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If all of the issues in your mind that place you at odds with angry, ranting fundamentalists are viewed through a black and white spectrum, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If you adopt an “us vs. them” mindset about angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If the issues that place you at odds with the angry, ranting fundamentalists find more place in your preaching than in the preaching of angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If your discoveries related to biblical truth and Christian liberty cause you to think that you are better than the angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If you feel the need to shame others into adopting your beliefs about angry, ranting fundamentalists, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

   If your posture towards angry, ranting fundamentalists is one that finds no love and appreciation for any part of the ministry of an angry, ranting fundamentalist, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

If you’re quick to separate from, and slow to reconcile with an angry, ranting fundamentalist, then you just might be acting like an angry, ranting fundamentalist.

Romans 8:28 - Cliché or Comfort? (Part One)

Clichés are an unfortunate inevitability.  For example, if you’re a Boston Red Sox fan like I am, you’re nauseatingly familiar with the phrase “we’ll get ‘em next year!”  Sadly, however, most of the time it seems like clichés ring hollow.  They provide little to no satisfaction when it comes to meeting the real needs that they are intended to address, and both the user and the hearer gain little benefit out of the exchange.  For instance, last fall when the Red Sox fell out of playoff contention with an epic September collapse, highlighted fittingly by a blown save against the Orioles, and a walk-off homer by Evan Longoria of the Rays in the space of about two minutes that cemented their fate, I wouldn’t have wanted to hear the phrase “we’ll get ‘em next year!”  In fact, I remember crawling in bed next to my wife who was nine months pregnant at the time, and telling her that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue my love-affair with New England sports.  I told her I couldn't bear to bring my son into this cold, dark world.  Seven months later, Chase inhabits a New England sports-themed nursery. Obviously my steely resolve quickly faded, but the original point still stands. At times, clichés are a bummer.

Sadly, clichés sometimes find their way into our Christian walk.  They can come from well-intended messages, sincere counselors, and even verses of Scripture that, when divorced from their context and separated from authorial intent, ring with a hollowness that was surely never the intention of the inspiring Holy Spirit.  Perhaps no Scriptural cliché has been (over)used as much as one of the dearest passages of Scripture that we hold in our New Testament. In Romans 8:28, Paul finishes his discussion of the future glories that await those who suffer well by saying “And we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.”  Inspired by my current personal journey through Romans as well a coinciding lecture from Dr. Greg Mazak in a course that I am currently enrolled in at Bob Jones Seminary, I would like to take the next series of blog posts and focus on this phenomenal text of Scripture.  Together, we’ll answer some important questions that come from this text in order to unearth exactly what Paul’s argument is.  Our intent will be to abolish any cliché nature that this text may hold, and to bask in the glory of what the Holy Spirit intended for us to understand from this magnificent verse.  We’ll answer several key questions including who this passage was intended for, what the “good” promised in this verse refers to, and what God’s ultimate purpose is.

Prior to taking the class mentioned above, I had already decided to spend the summer in Romans, encountering several key passages head-on, and learning from this doctrinally rich book.  Providentially, I had been reveling in this text the week of Dr. Mazak’s lecture on this passage, with no prior knowledge of what he would be teaching on. Thankfully, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief when I discovered that his much more profound exegetical work squired up quite nicely with my feeble attempts to make sense of what Paul was trying to convey.

Romans 8:28 should never be a cliché. It carries too much tremendous weight to ever ring with the hollowness usually reserved for the genre of the cliché.  I’m really enjoying my study, and I hope you’ll join me in this journey.  I’m excited to share what the goodness of God has allowed me to be learning.

Grace to you.

A Warning against Sub-Christian Messages in Preaching

From Brian Chappell in his formative book, Christ-Centered Preaching, pg. 274:

"A textually accurate discussion of biblical commands does not guarantee Christian orthodoxy.  Exhortations for moral behavior apart from the work of the Savior degenerate into mere Pharisaism , even if preachers advocate the actions with selected biblical evidence and good intent.  Spirituality based on personal conduct cannot escape its human-centered orbit though it aspires to lift one to the divine."

Jesus, be at the heart of every message that I preach.  May your presence alone bring hope for change.  I would do you the greatest of disservices if I were to exhort change based upon any other factor than you, and you alone.

Encounters

I’ve been away from this forum for a while, so I figured that the best way to get back into the swing of things would be by posting a bunch of content that isn’t even original to me.  This is the third “Encounters” segment that I’ve done since I started the blog.  The goal is to pass along some information that’s come through my Google Reader feed that was of particular interest/help to me.  I hope you enjoy.

                                                                                      

Is There an Office for Pastor’s Wives? – Jonathan Leeman answers a question that I didn’t even know that people asked until I heard of a church where a pastor’s wife “resigned” from her position as the pastor’s wife, effective immediately upon her husband’s resignation.  While there may not be an official biblical “office” for the pastor’s wife, it has been my privilege to enjoy watching one such wife (my mom) fulfill God’s calling for her in this position with unbelievable grace.

Recognizing Bigotry  - This post comes from one of several atheist blogs that I subscribe to in order to keep up to date with what’s going on in their world.  The author attempts to bemoan the apparent bigotry that they (atheists) face at the hands of Christians.  After reading this blog for several months now, all I can offer is this: “Hello pot, meet kettle.”

The Post-Christian Condition – Incredible article by Al Mohler on the effects of secularization on society. Mohler uses the example of the Anders Brievek trial and the region of Scandinavia as a whole.  This argument is pretty much identical to the one that I had the privilege of hearing Ravi Zacharias make when he visited Clemson University last month and lectured on intolerance.

What’s Wrong with Theistic Evolution – Kevin DeYoung deals with the problems of embracing Theistic Evolution by highlighting the eight problems that Wayne Grudem finds with a very faulty system.  I’m sure the list could be expanded a hundred-fold.

Is There Anything Wrong with Drums and Guitars in Church? – I tweeted a quote from this excellent post by R.C. Sproul Jr. just yesterday.  I’ve thought for a while now that we are asking many of the wrong questions when we evaluate the “right” kind of music for worship. I’m not a music apologist, and I won’t attempt to be. I will observe, however, that if we are really going to make the argument that form doesn’t matter, we had better check our brains at the door. The arguments that we make shouldn't be made against types of instruments or musical styles, but against the banal, shallow, and worldly mindsets that we have brought to the table. If we are desensitized Monday through Saturday, how can we expect to have discernment on Sunday? 

                               

Ask, Seek, Knock

As the child of a pastor, I suppose that I've taken my father's pulpit ministry for granted for the better part of my life. I was keenly aware of the countless hours that he would spend in his office pouring over the text with a heart of love for his congregation, but seldom was I aware of the responsibility that was mine as a partaker of those messages.

As I've entered into my seminary training, my appreciation for Dad's handling of the Word has increased exponentially. Often times I'll find myself shooting him an e-mail with a question regarding a particular text, and I can always expect a carefully worded response that takes into account the original languages, authorial intent, and context of the passage. Usually the response that I receive lines up fairly nicely with some of the better commentaries that I have been consulting, and serves to further confirm my conviction about the passage in question. My appreciation for Dad’s exegetical work, however, goes much further than just the help that I can get from him on particular passages. I regularly listen to the messages that he brings on a weekly basis, and I’m always left with an incredible blessing, and a new appreciation for the passage that he meticulously worked through that week. I always enjoy the fruits of Dad’s labor.

That brings me to the point of this entire post. A week ago, Dad brought one of the most Christ-centered, grace-saturated messages that I’ve ever heard from Matthew 7:7-11 as he continued his journey through the Sermon on the Mount that can be found here. It was truly a life-changing perspective for me on a familiar text. I won’t spoil it for you, but let me encourage you to give it a listen by clicking on the link above. I can’t imagine that you’ll be disappointed.

How Would Jesus Blog? (HWJB)

For better or for worse, internet blogging is here to stay. The mantra that once heralded blogging as a sad waste of time has largely been dropped, and many who formerly stood in opposition to the medium have now discovered the benefits and have even embraced it as their own. However, there is still much about internet blogging that is a sad waste of time. In recent months I have had the opportunity to scour more blogs that I would probably ever like to in my lifetime, and have come away largely disgusted at much of the product that I find. Emotionally-driven tirades, logical fallacies, and un-Christlike speech have been the calling card of much of what I have come across, and yet I’ve largely remained silent (these two posts notwithstanding). My reasoning for my silence is simple. First, I am a firm believer in allowing individuals to fight their own battles for themselves, and in many cases I believe that their silence sends a deafening message to their critics who would to have the opportunity to engage in discussion and consequently drag them down their sad little road. Second, I can tend to become much too emotionally involved in situations about which I opine. This emotional involvement does little to advance the cause of Christ, and I’ve had far too many occasions upon which I’ve looked with hindsight and thought “Man, I wish that I hadn’t posted that.”

That said, when I opened my Google Reader this morning, I saw red. I came across a blog to which I subscribe, and was introduced to a blog-post by a local-church elder that screamed of anything but Christian conduct. This writer engaged in emotional tirade, ad-hominem attacks, and the preponderance of demonstrably false information. He openly attacked a fellow believer, stating that he “didn’t like him,” made a confusingly inappropriate allusion to a sickeningly deviant act, and followed lines of reasoning so scatter-brained that I’m fairly confident that he even confused himself by the end of the post. And did I mention that he is the leader of a local assembly? I can hardly imagine him printing his blog post off and reading it verbatim to his congregation this Sunday morning. No way, no how. I was angry, sad, and confused. I wondered, as I stared at my computer screen, “What would Jesus blog?”

First, I’m not even sure that Jesus would blog. Not in the way that it was done this morning, anyhow. Sure, I could see Christ utilizing current technology in order to discourse with people regarding matters relating to church health or the furthering of the kingdom, but I’m fairly certain that He would never use His web domain as a place to attack others in the universal body of Christ, no matter how justified He might feel in doing so. I had breakfast with a friend in Indiana last week, and he said something that really made an impact on my thinking. While discussing the topic of blogging about other people, he said, “Chad, do you know why I don’t do it? For three reasons. First, I have relationships with people. If I want to find out the truth on either side of an issue, I have people that I can go to who can assure that I get correct information, and even if I disagree my relationships will not allow me to go there. Second, I have a thriving, active ministry. I’m responsible to my family, my ministry associates, and the church of God that my ministry serves. Those who spend time blogging about other people largely don’t have an active ministry. Third, I have a vision. I feel as though I know what God wants me to do with my life, and blogging about people is not one of them that fits into the big picture. Chad, people who blog about other people are usually going to be deficient in at least one of those three areas.” Jesus was not deficient in any of those areas. I can hardly imagine the Lord sitting down at the end of a long, hot day, and typing away furiously about Judas, Peter, or John. Sure, he spoke out against the religious leaders of the day. He did it with venom and fire that is seldom seen in the pulpits of America today. But such speech is massively different then the speech that I read this morning. Christ called out those who were confusing the very gospel that he came to earth for. Many of today’s blogs? Not so much. Christ’s words were useful for the edification of those whom He called. The blog this morning? Not at all. In fact, contrasts between the two are much more apparent than comparisons. Jesus might have blogged, but He wouldn’t blog about other believers.

Second, Jesus would blog about the truth. Jesus, being the truth, would have no other option than to stay consistent with very identity, and write about things that are truthful. Arguments based on how things “seem,” or centered around how the author “feels” are not truth. They are speculation, and when stated dogmatically they can easily be lies. Blogging about truth involves careful research, and having the ability to admit that when opinions sharply differ, you just might not know all of the facts of the issue that you are dealing with. Jesus might have blogged, but he would have blogged truthfully.

Finally, Jesus would have blogged in a spirit of humility. Perhaps that’s what has bothered me the most in the past few months. There is no humility in leveling accusations that hold no water. There is no humility in acting as if yours is a perspective of omniscience. There is no humility in looking back on issues and situations, and pontificating as if you would have handled everything to a theological, pastoral, and ethical “T.” Jesus might have blogged, but he would have blogged in a manner cloaked in humility.

There are far more than three observations that could be made. I am well aware of that. Perhaps the scariest part of all of this? We are all susceptible to the scintillating thrill that seems to come from bashing other people in an online forum. We are all susceptible to the error of feeding untruthful information to our online audiences, sometimes perfectly innocently. We are all susceptible to the devastating sin of pride. God help us.

I came away from this morning’s experience profoundly thankful for the power of the gospel that gives me the grace-filled enablement to desire to blog a little more like Jesus.

An Open Letter to the Internet Justice Vigilante Crowd

Dear Internet Justice Vigilante,

Please be advised that your disposition betrays your motivation.  Behind the frighteningly unrealistic facade of "justice, truth, peace, and love" lurks a heart of arrogance, hatred, and hypocrisy.  E-mail in-boxes, blog comments, and Facebook posts betray the ironic fact that you have become the very thing that you so desperately hate.  Yours is not a true agent of change.  It never will be.  You cannot be taken seriously, for your methods of shedding light on emotionally charged situations betray the fact that yours is not the way of the cross.  You're not open to dialogue, reason, or logic, and since you already have everything figured out anyways, I'll not attempt to go on any further.

Grace and peace to you. 

Chad 

(No relation to "C.P. Traveler," "@NotChuckPhelps," or any other of the courageously anonymous defamatory handles circling the internet these days)