If this post is problematic to you, please blame Emily Hunter McGowin. I tried to not have enough time, but she suggested I write it anyway. Another video about Jesus went viral last week. Called “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus” (aka, Jesus>Religion), it appeared in my Facebook news feed regularly for several days. I’m not a great fan of the “Spoken Word” genre so I didn’t watch it, but could grasp enough from comments to figure that a great number of people were being blessed by it. Then, as sure as the sun rises in the east, another link began appearing in my Facebook feed promoting a blog response to the video. Comments on Facebook ranged from the innocuous, “Here’s another view on the Jesus>Religion video,” to fully supportive, “If you’ve seen the Jesus is greater than religion video then you need to read this.” The post, entitled Does Jesus Hate Religion? Kinda, Sorta, Not Really was a critique of the video essentially arguing that, despite its good points, the poem was erroneous. After a lengthy critique, author Kevin DeYoung concludes with a direct appeal to writer/performer Jefferson Bethke, You have important things to say and millions of people are listening. So make sure as a teacher you are extra careful and precise (James 3:1). If you haven’t received formal theological training, I encourage you to do so. Your ministry will be made stronger and richer and longer lasting. I encourage you to speak from the Bible before you speak from your own experience. I encourage you to love what Jesus loves without tearing down what he also loves and people are apt to misunderstand. I encourage you to dig deep into the whole counsel of God. Thanks for reminding us about Jesus. But try to be more careful when talking about religion. After all, there is one religion whose aim is to worship, serve, know, proclaim, believe, obey, and organize around this Jesus. And without all those verbs, there’s not much Jesus left. At some point after DeYoung’s essay, my friend Trevin Wax tweeted this: “Excessive critique on the part of leaders will squelch the passion of the next generation.” I have no idea what sparked the thought, but with it I utterly agree. Leaders have the weighty responsibility of shepherding their flock with integrity, love, compassion and wisdom. If discretion, as the old saying goes, is the greater part of valor, then, I would say, deference is a great part of wisdom. Specifically, deferring to the Holy Spirit rather than jumping headlong into every perceived controversy that arises. Since the advent of the written page, I suppose, people have had the tendency to launch critiques at things with which they disagree. The existence of printed historical polemics bear witness to this. Many are needed, some are crucial and some are a waste of everyone’s time. Since the advent of the internet, it is not only possible but incredibly easy to publicly critique people with the exact same results. The primary difference being instead of a hundred or so of the intelligentsia as an audience, literally 10’s of thousands to millions may be able to read. When the critique is needed this is a good thing. When it isn’t? Well… Romans 14:1 is most appropos to this discussion. Paul addresses the issue of dealing with Christians who are not mature, and who may not be right where they need to be in their particular stage of spiritual maturity. What was his counsel? “As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions” (ESV). “Accept the one who is weak in faith, but don’t argue about doubtful issues” (HCSB). “Now accept the one who is weak in faith, but not for the purpose of passing judgment on his opinions” (NASB). An application specific to this discussion is: Don’t level criticism at a weaker brother simply because he has a different opinion than you. The book of 1 John portrays spiritual leadership as a parent, specifically as “fathers.” One of the critical components of parenting–and spiritual leadership–is knowing when to let your kids make their own mistakes. By extension this means that spiritual leadership is identified by a wisdom that chooses to defer critique, preferring instead to let the Holy Spirit do the work of maturation. One person asked the question, “Shouldn’t this kid be open to some sharpening?” Sharpening only takes place by those close to you. Judgment is all that can take place from afar. When we look at the life of Jesus it is clear that His words of critique and rebuke were virtually always leveled at either 1) the Pharisees who had set themselves up as judges and arbiters of spiritual truth, or 2) His disciples who were on a crash course of being the earliest foundation stones of the Church. Paul’s and Peter’s harsh criticisms were addressed to false teachers, slackers, and those who had abandoned the faith. In fact, Jesus exhibited more patience with lost people (the woman in adultery and the Syro-Phonecian woman, for example) than some Christian leaders give to young believers. Christian maturation is a long, rocky, laborious process. It is given to fits and starts, lulls and spurts. Only God is wise enough to know all things related to the spiritual growth of His children. Sanctification does not flow along the length of a 1-size fits all wall chart. Did he deny the faith? No. Question the fundamentals? No. Deny the gospel? No. But by the response of some you’d think He had done all that and proposed adding Lassie to the Trinity. I’m not sure where all the grace went from some who supposedly cherish the “doctrines of grace” as the best expression of biblical theology. When critique and the spiritual equivalent of visiting the proctologist are what is to be expected when following the leading of the Spirit, then Trevin’s analysis will hold true. Young believers will stop attempting
“I Have a Dream,” speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. [VIDEO]
One of the greatest speeches ever given, King’s speech is worth watching regularly. The text is below the video. I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children. It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges. But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest