Lament – Only Visiting this Planet

Push Back

At church this morning, I learned that three of our congregants died from Covid-19 in the past week, one of whom was a missionary in Columbia. The disease is ravaging the Charlotte metro-area where I live as well as much of the American South. Vaccination rates here are significantly lower than other parts of the country and given that the Delta variant is as contagious as the chicken-pox, I’m not surprised that our hospitals and ICUs have filled to the breaking point. Throw in a category-four hurricane, and we face a potential meltdown in medical care.

Frankly, I’m baffled. Things have changed so much since last December when the first Pfizer vaccines received emergency authorization by the Food and Drug Administration. (Pfizer was given full FDA approval just last week.) I myself was one of 30,000 participants in the Moderna Covid-19 vaccine trials, something that I wrote about earlier this year. In retrospect, I’m glad that I participated despite the initial risks. I learned so much from doctors, immunologists, and medical professionals about Covid-19, its effects, and the drive to create a safe and effective vaccine to protect as many of our citizens. They have done such good, even sacrificial work providing vaccines that have stood up to scientific trial after trial, and we have excellent scientific evidence that supports their efficacy. Is the shot risk free? Nothing is risk free, but the chances of major illness or death from Covid-19 is far greater than from getting the Covid-19 vaccines.

Yet, thousands throughout the American South are getting very sick and even dying from Covid-19. A few days ago, I started hearing that some people were taking Ivermectin (essentially a horse de-wormer) to treat Covid-19 as opposed to getting the vaccine shot. In the last 48 hours, I read about three individuals, folks whom you would think are sensible adults, die from Covid-19 after trying to stop the disease with Ivermectin, a drug cleared for use in animals. My heart breaks for their wives and children. What would possess people toward off-label usage of a horse de-wormer? Add to that the scores of people who have contracted Covid-19 after refusing the vaccine who plead with others from their hospital beds for vaccinations. Three months ago, I was angry about this. Now, I can only respond with sorrow and despair.

Cheers and Applause?

One of the social groups most resistant to vaccination are those who identify as evangelical Christians. Two days ago, the National Religious Broadcasters fired one of its vice-presidents because he spoke positively about the need for people to be vaccinated. A few days ago, evangelical megachurch pastor Greg Locke called the Delta variant a hoax and the vaccines a government plot. According to the Washington Post, “If ‘you start showing up [with] all these masks and all this nonsense, I will ask you to leave,’ Locke, 45, told scores of Global Vision Bible Church parishioners during his sermon on Sunday. His statement was followed by cheers and applause.”

Cheers and applause in the face of a deadly disease. Let that sink in. I thought Christians were supposed to be about the gospel of life. Locke and many of his fellow megachurch pastors seem more inclined toward a culture of death. Given that like Global Vision Bible Church, the National Religious Broadcasters is located in Nashville, I’m wondering if the evangelical culture of death is now headquartered in central Tennessee. I’m not surprised that many look at this and think, “if that is evangelical Christianity, I want no part of it.”

Well, neither do I; and I hope you don’t either. What’s driving this? First, celebrity culture has infected American evangelicalism, and so-called “evangelical leaders” and megachurch pastors view themselves more as spiritual gurus and empire builders than pastors who provide for the care of souls. Then, an inability to think and act biblically and theologically has made many congregations more American than Christian. Add to that the expressive individualism grounded in the idea that we are responsible to “construct” our own reality and find “our own truth.” We like tyrants who make us feel good. Finally, most media has been reduced to entertainment and exists so that in the words of Neil Postman we can “amuse ourselves to death.” Connect those and the spiritual disaster taking root in evangelical Christianity is easy to grasp.

American Christianity has lost much. We no longer think about important theological ideas like “common grace” and “general revelation” (how God makes himself known through his creation). We have given in to the idolatry of politics. When I was a young man in the 1970s, I remember how evangelicals spoke and sometimes acted harshly toward those mainline Christians who brought politics into church. We thought they had bought into what Jacques Ellul termed “the political illusion.” Guess what. It wasn’t long before American evangelicals were seduced by the same things that the mainline struggled with–power, prestige, money, political favor, empire building. As the political left became more secularized, the Christian right jumped in and pursued all of the things for which we criticized the liberals. From there, it becomes easy to abandon the centrality of Christ.

Push Back Against the Culture of Death

So here we are. Many of us are so anti-government that we embrace the lie that everything the government touches turns to evil. That ideology is far from the teachings of Jesus and the New Testament writers. Biblical truth is alien to the fashionable conspiracy theories trafficked on Cable TV news and in the propaganda from politicians and political parties that fill our social media feeds and our mailboxes. This kind of propaganda views the Delta variant as a hoax, fires people for rightly encouraging people to get safe and effective vaccines, and chooses horse de-wormer as some kind of magic bullet.

We push back in several ways. I think we start with a proper grasp of common grace and general revelation. God has chosen to allow humans to discover things like electricity, nuclear power, airplane flight, and medical knowledge. These are all good gifts from a merciful God who desires that human beings (including you and me) should flourish. Yes, these good gifts can be used for great evil as evidenced by nuclear weapons and the horrid work of the Nazi doctors in World War II. They are not evil in themselves, but because of the fall described in Genesis 3, they can be used for great harm.

We stress in our lives and our churches the centrality of Jesus Christ. Partisan politics has no place in congregational ministry. A few years back, I started reading about congregations (more than you think) who made partisan politics almost a litmus test of faith. Followers of Jesus with different political views were isolated from their congregations because they did not support the strong political views of their pastors and leaders. I see their Facebook posts and the sorrow and anguish in their words. Biblical preaching and pastoral care are replaced with pressures to conform.

My advice to those who express these concerns is twofold. First, speak to the church leaders about your concerns. If they refuse to listen, then take the second step: Find another church where Christ is central. Christ loves Democrats, Republicans, Libertarians, Green Party members, Independents, and the apolitical; and any congregation that anchors partisan politics in its life and ministry engages in sin.

And we push back by gently encouraging those we know and love to get vaccinated to protect themselves and their loved ones. That means we need to understand the fears and concerns of those who are hesitant or opposed to the vaccine. That involves conversing with them. To do that, we need to understand the strong evidence for getting vaccinated (for example, the risk of dying from Covid-19 is far, far greater than the risk of dying from the Moderna or Pfizer vaccines), as well as what is behind the conspiracy theories (which is usually some media darling’s personal agenda).

I’m pushing back because I’m tired of seeing families left in grief and mourning when we have the vaccines and mitigation strategies necessary to stop Covid-19. I’m pushing back because I’m frustrated by conspiracy theories and propaganda dividing our congregations. I’m pushing back because the arguments made by many anti-vaxxers are just like those that pro-abortion advocates use to justify their brutal acts. (“My body, my choice.”) And, I’m pushing back on behalf of many faithful pastors and leaders who are not celebrities, but called by Christ to preach and teach the Scriptures and care for souls like mine who struggle to follow Jesus every day. Hopefully, I push back with care, concern, and grace for others. We speak the truth, but as Paul writes, we “speak the truth in love.” Push back with me today armed with the gospel and Christ’s love for the world, one person at a time.

Let Liberty University be a Lesson in Unchecked Power

A guest post from Karen Swallow Prior

This week, I wanted to write a reflection on the disastrous events at Liberty University, events that have played out in front of all of us on the national media and have created anger among evangelicals like myself who are engaged in Christian higher education, and ridicule from those outside of the Christian faith. Then I read Karen Swallow Prior’s blog post and decided that she said what I wanted to say far better than I could. Hence I share Karen’s post with you.

Karen is a scholar of Literature who taught English literature for over 20 years at Liberty University. Hence, she writes as one who has been affected by the seven-year struggle at LU that finally led this week to the ouster of Jerry Falwell, Jr. She writes not only about LU, but about its larger impact on American evangelicalism. I know you will appreciate her work.

I especially appreciated these words:

“As a conservative evangelical (and one who recently left Liberty University after 21 years of teaching there), I understand the conflicted, ambivalent relationship evangelicalism has and has had for 300 years with institutional authority. Evangelicals establish institutions with as much experience and finesse as a seventh-grade boy at a school dance.

“But this is not a drill. Churches, schools, universities, all Christian ministries steward in the name of Christ the most precious things in all of creation: human bodies and souls.

“That’s a lot of power. It’s even more responsibility. When power goes unchecked, all hell breaks loose.”

Here is the link to her excellent post where you can read the whole thing.

https://religionunplugged.com/news/2020/8/27/let-liberty-university-be-a-lesson-in-unchecked-power?fbclid=IwAR1juE-IYml7Hdpv0wMOVc-FPEtsZ2kID2RxdY_bCY_QjAYbz7RIsuGkSLE

Tule Fogs and Lament

Week three of the great isolation is nearly complete. The novelty has worn off, and we’re confronted with realities that seemed impossible six weeks ago. And, we have that nagging in our stomachs telling us that all of this has just begun.

Growing up in Northern California, several times a year we would experience what weather geeks called “tule fogs,” times when the fog was so thick that you could not see even six feet in front of you. I remember a time when Renee and I were driving from LA to San Francisco on Christmas morning 1981 for dinner with friends. We ran into a tule fog near Bakersfield, and it was so dense that you could not see three feet in front of the car. We crawled to the next exit and waited it out in an overflowing Denny’s parking lot where everyone else had the same idea.

These last three weeks have felt like a California tule fog. We are forced to drive blind without any sense of where we are, where we are going, and what the path ahead looks like. We are disoriented and unable to get our bearings. All around us we find sickness, death, job loss, and we wonder if we’re next. It is easy to wonder where God is in all of this.

I’m not here to offer cheap platitudes or easy bromides. I don’t claim to offer a magic Bible verse or theological argument that will suppress our anxiety and fear. Frankly, anyone who tries to offer things like that should be ignored. Instead, I think Holy Scripture points us in a radically different way. That way involves sorrow and lament. I agree with N.T. Wright when he writes that at this time, the way of lament is the best, perhaps the only authentically Christian response we can make.

Lament is found throughout the Old Testament, but especially in the wisdom literature (Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes). It is seen in the cries of prophets like Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Even Jesus laments over Jerusalem in Matthew’s gospel and in the Father’s absence as he suffers on that Jerusalem cross.

Lament is what we do when God seems absent. Lament is how we respond when we find ourselves in sustained times of suffering, isolation, even death. Lament recognizes that evil is truly evil, and not a mere illusion that we see on our screens. Lament is what we express when justice seems absent. Lament is what we do when the future disappears right in front of us.

A lot of Christians, especially evangelicals, have a difficult time with lament. We’ve been conditioned to think that we must always show victorious Christianity, lest others think that there is something wrong with us or that somehow God is not to be trusted. American culture teaches us to strive for “your best life now” and even many Christians have bought into the lie of prosperity. No, we don’t do lament very well.

Perhaps it is time for us to learn. This is a season of deep sorrow, one that should drive us to our knees in dependence on the Triune God. This is a time when we should mourn the suffering and isolation that has come upon millions of our fellow human beings throughout the world. This is a moment when we offer our plaintive cries. “I say to God my Rock. “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy? My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, “Where is your God?” (Psalm 42:9-10).

As I write Easter is less than two weeks away. This year, we will mark the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ in a season that few of us in Canada and the United States have ever known. Perhaps we will identify more with Good Friday this year. We will lament not only our present world, but the very death of our God and Savior. But for us, it is always sorrow and lament tinged with hope. Way out in the distance, I can hear a faint roar. Aslan is on the move, and he is coming one more time to Narnia.