Culture – Page 7

On Thanksgiving

November 26, 2020 by Dan Olinger

Here’s my annual Thanksgiving post.

Even in tumultuous times, we have much to be thankful for.

Photo credit: Wikimedia

After the Storm

November 12, 2020 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

In the American West, where I grew up, the sky is big. The land in Eastern Washington is flat, and the horizons are long and low. As a result, you can see a thunderstorm a-comin’ for a long ways. You can see the sheets of rain falling from the thunderhead long before it reaches you, and in the summer I used to enjoy sitting out in the pasture and just waiting for it. Then it would arrive, the warm rain, and you could get completely soaked and not care—indeed, you could relish it as a delightful experience.

The aftermath was enjoyable too. There was the decrescendo of the storm, the petering out of the patter of the rain; the petrichor; and the calm silence, all the quieter in contrast with the recent rage.

If we learn anything from the life of Jesus, we learn that he is sovereign and active in the storm as well as in the peaceful, pastoral scene we think of when we hear him called “the Good Shepherd.” We learn that he accomplishes his will as certainly and easily in the storm; we might even say, if I can do so reverently, that he does some of his best work precisely at those times.

We’ve been through a storm, haven’t we? We’ve been surrounded by chaos, much of it intentionally designed; we’ve been told by people we trust that we need to be angry, agitated, active, desperate; that Those People are evil incarnate, and irremediably dangerous, and if we don’t stop them, It’s All Over.

God has graciously designed us humans so that when the situation turns desperate, we’re able to cope with it in surprising ways. There’s adrenaline, which can empower a man of average build to lift a car off someone. There’s the flight response, which enables us to get outta here faster than we ever thought possible.

But adrenaline’s a dangerous drug (so to speak), and we don’t do well as drug addicts; we don’t thrive under constant chaos and ongoing pumped-up responses to perceived threats—real or exaggerated.

We’re made for peace—peace with ourselves, peace with one another, peace with God.

The storm can be exciting—the adrenaline rush can be stimulating and energizing—but we’re not designed to live there.

In the face of the greatest storm in cosmic history—that day when the heavens were darkened, the Godhead was rent, the sins of the world crushed the Creator himself—Jesus had a surprising message for his friends.

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful (Jn 14.27).

Peace in the storm, with a view to long-lasting peace after the storm.

So how shall we, as disciples of Christ, live after the storm? Paul writes to Jesus’ disciples in Thessalonica,

⁹Now as to the love of the brethren, you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves are taught by God to love one another; ¹⁰for indeed you do practice it toward all the brethren who are in all Macedonia. But we urge you, brethren, to excel still more, ¹¹and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands, just as we commanded you, ¹²so that you will behave properly toward outsiders and not be in any need (1Th 4).

After the storm, peace. Excel at loving one another. Get all stirred up about leading a quiet life. Mind your own business. Make something. Be a wholesome, productive, contributing part of the community.

Especially given that much of the recent storm was of our own making, how about if we just live quietly, peaceably, faithfully for a while?

You know what Paul talks about right after this? Jesus’ return (1Th 4.13-18). It’s coming. What say we focus on how the Good Shepherd will deliver us, rather than on fighting transient earthly opponents with carnal weapons?

Photo by Paul Carmona on Unsplash

How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 12: Gratitude

November 5, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father (Col 3.17).

It’s no accident that we come to the end of this relatively lengthy series two days after the US presidential election. Now, regardless of the election’s eventual outcome, it falls to us to decide how to respond to its results—to decide whether we’re going to live in peace with our so-recent political opponents, whether we’re the “winners” or the “losers.”

Paul concludes the passage we’ve been studying with a call to thankfulness, or gratitude. Everything we do, he says, should be done for Christ and in gratitude through him to the Father.

I’ve written on this idea before. And so has Paul. Have you noticed that three of his four admonitions in this paragraph include thanksgiving?

We live out peace in connection with thankfulness (Col 3.15).
We encourage one another with thankfulness (Col 3.16).
We do all things with thankfulness (Col 3.17).

This is a pervasive concept in biblical thinking. God has been unimaginably good to us—so good, in fact, that literally everything evil about the world pales in comparison.

What do you have to be thankful for?

No matter who is president of the US, or which party controls the Senate or the House of Representatives or the Governor’s Mansion or the County Council or the Mayor’s Office,

You’re living far better, in measurable ways, than 90% of the people in the history of the world.
There’s plenty of air to breathe—even if you have difficulty breathing.
Purified, drinkable water still falls from the sky—even if it falls at inopportune times.
Food still grows right out of the dirt.
The sun gives us light and warmth every day, without fail.
There is beauty to be seen and heard and appreciated all around us—in birds, in flowers, in rocks, in waterfalls. Even in morning glories, the bane of my childhood weed-pulling experience.
God is alive, and great, and good, and engaged in our world, and directing all things to a certain conclusion that is, he assures us, good (Ro 8.28).
If you’re a believer, you are regenerate (doubly alive), and forgiven, and befriended, and cared for, and loved, and escorted to that good end.
And you are endowed with a mission, a purpose to live, one that you are well equipped to carry out, one that will certainly succeed, and one that will eventuate in perfect relationships and perfect glory.

There’s not a government or official in all the history of all the universe who can negate or even endanger any of that, or who can compete with that for any of my confidence or my fear.

God is great. God is good.

Let us thank him.

And let us live out that gratitude with a confidence and joy and grace that makes even our “enemies”—who are, when all is said and done, our fellow images of God and the ordered objects of our grace—to be at peace with us (Pr 16.7).

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 11: Encouragement

November 2, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God (Col 3.16).

We live in the light by living out love (Col 3.14) and peace (Col 3.15).

But we need to go a step further.

I suspect that a lot of people would prefer to keep to themselves and mind their own business. Especially these days, we see a lot of confrontation and shouting and volleys of snarkitude—what we used to call “flame wars” back in the early days of the internet—and some people say, “You know what? I am so done with that.”

Someone I know often says, “People are the worst.” And theologically, that’s true (Rom 3.10-18).

But that’s only half the story.

People are also in the image of God (Gn 1.26-27; 9.6; James 3.9). And like God, they are not solitary persons; as God is in eternal fellowship among the persons of the Godhead, so we are designed as fundamentally social creatures; one of the first things God said about the first human is that it was not good that he should be alone (Gn 2.18). And following his eternal plan, God is in the process of gathering, from every ethnicity and nation, a people for his name—a large assembly that no one can number, united in corporate praise to God.

Sure, there are introverts, and they’re not inherently less godly than extroverts.

But a solitary life is not in our genes, or in our cards. We’re designed for relationships.

And the “friends” or “followers” we see on social media are not often healthy patterns for those relationships.

Paul says in our passage that as we grow individually in our relationship with God—which we do initially through the “Word of Christ”—we necessarily move outward, interpersonally, with what we’re learning. It’s not enough to hold our relationship with God close to the vest, as “a very private matter”; part of our growth is interacting with other believers about what we’re learning.

There are at least two reasons for that.

First, as a long-time teacher, I know that the best way to learn something is to teach it. As a simple example, I minored in Greek in college, and I’ve used it repeatedly in the years since: in my work in publishing back in the last century, and in my private study, and in my teaching at BJU since 2000. This year I volunteered to teach a section of Greek 101 to meet a scheduling need—the first time I’ve ever taught Greek.

Boy, am I learning a lot.

I’ve been capable in Greek for many years. But now I’m realizing how many details I’ve lost over the years because I just didn’t have any reason to recall them.

Leaps and bounds. Just by teaching 101.

You’ll understand your relationship with God significantly better if you’ll describe it to others. I promise.

There’s a second reason to share your faith with other believers: they’ll reciprocate. That may involve telling you what they’ve learned, thereby adding to your storehouse of understanding. It may involve encouraging you in the difficult times, cheering you through the rough spots. It may be as simple as listening to you and really hearing you. There’s a benefit in that.

And so Paul says we should be “teaching and admonishing one another”—and he specifically names our worship together as one of the ways we do that. We’re not just “friends” on some social media platform, trying to impress others with how delightful our lives are, or to shame them into thinking—and voting—the way we do. We’re partners, colleagues, in the great work of God in gathering and developing a people for his name.

We seek to achieve that goal before any other.

Part 12: Gratitude

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 10: Peace

October 29, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful (Col 3.15).

From love (Col 3.14), Paul turns his attention to peace.

We all say we want peace, but very few people actively behave in ways that make peace more likely.

There are reasons for that.

In the first place, there are people who pursue peace in all the wrong ways. They think we’ll have peace if we just refuse to fight—but because they don’t take into account the presence of evil in the world, their actions end up increasing the potential for violence rather than lowering it. “If wishes were fishes … .”

In other cases we see people who talk about peace but don’t live by their own rules. Those of us of a certain age well remember the “peace movement” of the 1960s, and the violence wrought in the streets of Chicago during the 1968 Democratic Convention by “anti-war” protestors. And the protestations of “peace” by the leaders of the USSR, which was, as one pundit put it, “the peace of the graveyard.”

This sort of thing can lead to cynicism. An acquaintance of mine, visiting Greenville, questioned the name of our “Peace Center for the Performing Arts.” “Peace?” he said, with a hint of a sneer. I explained to him that it was named for Roger C. Peace, a Greenville newspaper publisher and philanthropist. That seemed to settle him down.

So now we have to make excuses for naming things for peace. Stinkin’ pinko commie freaks.

All of this is just distraction.

The fact is that God is a God of peace (Rom 15.33; 16.20; Php 4.9; 1Th 5.23; Heb 13.20). It’s the essence of his character. (And yes, he’s a God of war as well [Is 59.17-20]; as “The Greatest Generation” has shown us, often those who have seen combat are the most eager for and delighted in peace.)

It should be no surprise, then, that God has brought peace between himself and us (Ro 5.1) and that he brings peace to his people (Ro 1.7; 8.6; 15.13). But interestingly, he has not promised us external peace; in fact, Jesus told his disciples that they would have tribulation (Jn 16.33; cf Mt 10.34) and even persecution (Lk 21.12), and that as history progressed there would be troublous times (Mt 24.6).

So where is the peace?

It’s on the inside, not the outside. Jesus leaves his peace with us (Jn 14.27), and it rules in our hearts (Co 3.15; Ro 8.6; 15.13; Ga 5.22; Php 4.7). We’re empowered to be an oasis of peace in the midst of swirling chaos.

That means that we can “follow peace with all” (Heb 12.14). We can be de-escalators of conflict, sources of resolution in disputes.

Let me tell you something I’m ashamed of.

I was in Ghana, on a long overnight public bus trip from Accra to Wa, where my team was going to minister for 3 weeks. The driver stopped for a restroom break, and I saw that someone was trying to get a couple of my female team members to pay to use the restroom. I knew that we had never had to pay at this location before, and I jumped to the conclusion that they were trying to take advantage of “rich Westerners.” It was 2 or 3 am, and I was really tired, and I just decided to refuse to cooperate. I said we weren’t going to pay. (The girls had already used the restroom.) The man followed me back to the bus, arguing all the way, protesting that he had to collect the money. (It amounted to about 50 cents.) I steadfastly refused. The principle of the thing, you know.

A Ghanaian man, also riding on my bus, stepped between us and began to de-escalate the confrontation. He and his wife paid the fee and refused to let me reimburse them.

I was deeply, deeply ashamed.

People with peace in their hearts simply don’t act the way I had.

My brethren, let us “follow after the things which make for peace.”

Part 11: Encouragement | Part 12: Gratitude

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 9: Love

October 26, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Paul has begun laying out a lifestyle that brings unity and comity. It begins, he says, when we recognize that everyone, even our “enemy,” is in the image of God. We build on that recognition by exercising forgiveness, even as Christ has forgiven us. Now, in the longest section of our passage, Paul lays down a series of four attitudes that will drive our actions toward unifying the body of Christ and peacemaking in our social circle.

¹⁴Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. ¹⁵Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful. ¹⁶Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God. ¹⁷Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father (Col 3).

He begins with love.

Love gets a lot of talk, but not much actual doing. And in fact, it’s as much about doing as it is about feeling. My longtime friend and colleague Randy Leedy has defined agape love as “a disposition of the will, a self-sacrificing commitment to secure the highest interests of its object, independent of the object’s attractiveness or the prospect of repayment.”

Notice a couple of things.

First, love is not just a feeling. It is a feeling, an emotion, of course. It is far from sterile.

We all know this. Those of us who are married know how ridiculous our union would be if there were no feeling—what an old roommate of mine used to call “zing.” We men don’t do things for our wives simply because it’s our duty—and our wives would not be pleased if we did. There is certainly an emotional component.

But there is action. None of us wants to hear “You say you love me, but … “ Love goes beyond the feeling; it takes action on behalf of the loved one.

When you love someone, you do something about it.

A second thing to notice is that love is fundamentally not self-centered. You’re not in the relationship just for what you can get out of it. We’ve looked at that idea earlier in this series with reference to sexual ethics. But it goes far beyond our sexual desire and expression. The one who loves is focused on the needs of the loved one, and he is oriented toward satisfying those needs to the extent that he can, with no limit to the sacrifice he is willing to make.

Jesus himself emphasized that idea when he said, “When you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you” (Lk 14.13-14a).

You’re not living out love because your life will be better if you do. You’re living out love because life will be better for everybody else if you do.

Does this principle have implications for how we live during an election season? during a pandemic? during a period of racial strife?

You bet it does.

We are impelled to care lovingly for fellow believers who vote for Biden, or for Trump, or for Jorgensen, or even for nobody at all.

For those who protest in the streets, or for those who think that’s a sin.

For those who wear masks, or for those who refuse to.

Even for those who say “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.”

Yes, even for Yankees fans.

The biblical lifestyle is one of serving, caring for those we find repulsive or those who mash all our buttons.

It’s not about winning.

Winning comes, eventually.

But not because we sought for it.

Part 10: Peace | Part 11: Encouragement | Part 12: Gratitude

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 8: Beyond Tolerance

October 22, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

¹²So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; ¹³bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you (Col 3.12-13).

Having established a basis in who we are in Christ, Paul turns now to how we live that out. Because we’re chosen by God, because he has made us his treasured possession (“holy”), because he loves us (“beloved”), we respond to his grace toward us by extending grace toward others. Just as we “took off” the old, worn-out clothing of “the old self,” now we “put on” a “self” that lives in grace.

This grace, like a diamond, is multi-faceted:

“Compassion” is pity or mercy. Paul spends 11 chapters of Romans detailing how God saw our deep sin, and even though enraged, he responded with a plan to rescue us, making right what we never could, so he could “be just, and the justifier of him who believes in Jesus” (Ro 3.26). He accepted the sacrifice of Christ in our place, then sent the Spirit to indwell and teach us, and even to pray for us when we don’t know how to pray for ourselves. And Paul summarizes all 11 chapters as “the mercies [compassions] of God” (Ro 12.1). We’re called to treat fellow believers like that, even though they don’t deserve it. (That’s what mercy means.) And we’re to do that from our “heart”—in the Greek, our “guts.” We’re to feel this compassion from the very depths of our insides. That’s what God did for us.
“Kindness” is simply “goodness”—being good to people, treating them as we would wish to be treated. God has shown us kindness (Ro 2.4; Ep 2.7; Ti 3.4) when we had shown none to him (Ro 3.12).
“Humility” is valuing the welfare of others above our own, and serving them. We’re called to do that because, shockingly, even Jesus did the same for us (Php 2.3ff). God gives grace to such people while resisting the proud (1P 5.5).
“Gentleness” used to be called “meekness.” It means not using force even though you could. We’ve all see the way a large but loving father cradles his newborn child. We’re supposed to treat one another that way (Ep 4.2), even those who are at fault (Ga 6.1)—and even those who are not believers (Ti 3.2). Why? The not-so-surprising answer: because that’s how Christ has treated us (2Co 10.1).
“Patience” is bearing up under trials; it’s the endurance of the athlete, who knows that there is a trophy at the end of the competition. God is patient not only with us, but even with those who he knows will eventually and finally reject him (Ro 9.22).
“Bearing with” someone is to put up with him. It’s what we today call “tolerance”—you don’t like it, but you put up with it, for the sake of a greater good.
“Forgiving” is literally “extending grace to” someone, treating him graciously, marking the bill as “Paid” (Lk 7.42-43).

We talk a lot about “tolerance” today. I’ve heard some comment that “tolerance” really isn’t good enough, because it’s putting up with something that you don’t like, rather than accepting the person despite his problems. As we’ve noted above, our treatment of one another should include “putting up with” them, but this passage clearly calls for much more than that. In the end, not only must we not reject the brother who votes for the Other Guy—not only must we “tolerate” him—but we must receive him, care for him, embrace him as a treasured part of our Father’s great collection of images of himself.

Grace.

Freely we have received; freely give.

Part 9: Love | Part 10: Peace | Part 11: Encouragement | Part 12: Gratitude

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 7: Breaking Down the Walls

October 19, 2020 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

¹⁰and [since you] have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him— ¹¹a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all (Col 3.10-11).

Paul bases his journey into the light not on what we do, or even what we should do, but in who we are. If you’re a believer, you’re not who you were born to be. That’s the old self, or what Paul consistently calls “the old man,” or “the natural man” (1Co 2.14). The old man is not who we want to be:

He’s been crucified, put to death (Ro 6.6).
We’re to “put off” that guy, like old, worn-out clothes (Co 3.9; Ep 4.22).

Now, “since Jesus came into [your] heart,” you’re not that guy anymore. You’re a new self, a “new man,” which “is created in righteousness and true holiness” (Ep 4.24)—“created,” because it didn’t exist before Christ gave you spiritual life.

And what’s this “new man” all about? What kind of person is he? What’s he like?

Put bluntly, he’s like God. Our passage says he is “renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him”; God, the Creator, is the pattern, and we, the creatures, are in his image. That image has been marred by our sin, and God is in the process of restoring it, renewing it. Paul here mentions the specific part of the image that he’s focused on: knowledge, or accurate recognition based on personal experience, the way you “know” the face of your spouse or your children or a lifelong friend. In Christ, we know things as they really are.

And how are they? In Christ, “things” are completely changed. We “know” one another primarily as in Christ—as brothers and sisters in the most important family ever envisioned or formed. The ways we normally categorize people—ethnicity (“Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised”), cultural practice (“barbarian, Scythian”), socioeconomic status (“slave and freeman”)—fade into irrelevance in the blinding light of our common glory in Christ.

We’re family. We’re in Christ. That’s all that matters.

Christ is in me. He’s in you. He’s in her, and him, and those over there. And we are in him.

What can possibly drive us apart?

Disagreements over cultural differences? Over life experiences? Over politics? Over denominational distinctives?

Pssssshhhhhh. Trivia. Let’s not be ridiculous. Christ is a stronger adhesive than that.

I have friends who are going to vote to place in the most powerful human position in the world someone that I will never vote for, under any circumstances.

The most powerful human position in the world!!!!

Someone I would never vote for!!!!

Under ANY circumstances!!!!

We are in Christ. Together. And forever.

One election, or two, or a thousand, will never drive us apart.

No matter the temporary, earthly consequences of that election.

We’re in Christ.

Nothing else even comes close.

In the parallel epistle to this one, Paul writes that the “new self” is “created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ep 4.24).

There’s the image of God again. And this time Paul speaks not of knowledge, but of righteousness—which, thanks to Christ’s sacrificial death, has been restored to us, as it was In the Beginning (2Co 5.21)—and of holiness.

My Christian brothers who vote badly—very badly—are righteous. They are bathed in the righteousness of Christ. That makes how they vote insignificant to my regard for them, relatively speaking.

My Christian brothers who vote badly—very badly—are holy; that is, they are the special possession and treasure of Almighty God—which puts them literally in a class by themselves. Their vote is not going to change that.

I’d better take care how I treat God’s treasured collection. And since I’m part of that collection myself—through no fault of my own—I’m going to treat them with the kind of delighted care that’s only appropriate.

What kind of church do you suppose we’d have if we lived that way?

And what kind of society do you suppose we’d have if its ragingly angry members saw the contrast between how they’re treated by their peers and how we treat our brothers and sisters?

Part 8: Beyond Tolerance | Part 9: Love | Part 10: Peace | Part 11: Encouragement | Part 12: Gratitude

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How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 6: Turning Toward the Light

October 15, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Acknowledging the Divide | Part 3: “Great Is Diana!” | Part 4: Letting Hate Drive | Part 5: Pants on Fire

This series has been pretty dark so far, hasn’t it?

There’s a reason for that.

In this passage Paul begins by discussing the kinds of behaviors we ought to avoid, those than eventuate in division.

But now he turns toward the light: he lays out a course of behavior that lowers tension, that encourages people to live peaceably together.

It’s the way God’s people are supposed to live.

And as I’ve noted earlier, this lifestyle—what the KJV calls “conversation”—not only brings unity and peace to the family of God, who are empowered by the Spirit to live this way, but it brings ripple effects to the larger society by making God’s people agents of peace rather than turmoil.

Of course, the Truth of Christ does bring division; Jesus said so himself (Lk 12.51). But there is necessary division, and there is unnecessary, fleshly division, and the church need have no part in the latter when its members live out their new life in Christ.

So what is the lifestyle of light? What does it look like?

Paul lays out the specifics for us:

¹⁰and [since you] have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him— ¹¹a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all.

¹²So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; ¹³bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. ¹⁴Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. ¹⁵Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful. ¹⁶Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God. ¹⁷Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.

There’s a lot to consider here. Let me suggest a rough structure to guide us as we do that:

The shared image of God serves as a basis for our unity across cultural divisions (Col 3.10-11).

The fact that God has forgiven believers serves as a basis for how we treat others, including those who have not yet received that forgiveness (Col 3.12-13).

Living out our unity as a body serves as a powerful invitation to those on the outside, who see the distinction between what we experience and what they do:
- Love (Col 3.14)
- Peace (Col 3.15)
- Encouragement (Col 3.16)
- Gratitude (Col 3.17)

We’ll begin to walk this brightly lit path in the posts to come.

There is no joy like the joy of walking in the light.

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How Not to Have a Civil War, Part 5: Pants on Fire

October 12, 2020 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Acknowledging the Divide | Part 3: “Great Is Diana!” | Part 4: Letting Hate Drive

Paul has identified 2 ways that we bring division to our societies: 1) unrestrained sexual thinking and behavior (Col 3.5), and 2) unrestrained hatred (Col 3.8). He turns now to a third way: disregard for the truth.

Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices (Col 3.9).

I’ve written on this topic before. It astonishes me—though it probably shouldn’t—how much falsehood is being circulated in our society by people who ought to know better.

The people I’m noticing ought to know better for several reasons—

They’re generally older and more experienced in life, and we used to think that age and experience brought wisdom.

They were educated in a day when the education system was less relativistic—that is, when educators generally thought that there was such a thing as “truth” and that it could be determined by careful observation and analysis. They were supposed to have learned how to do research and how to recognize unreliable sources.

Most important, these are people who claim—and I want to accept their claim—to have walked with Christ, who is the Truth, for many years; to have learned from his Word; and to have sought to follow it.

It’s not fair to expect such people, or any people, to be right all the time, but it is reasonable to expect them to take care to discern the truth, especially before they propagate it.

So why the misinformation?

I’d suggest several contributing factors:

Desperation. The loudest voices in our culture these days seem to be people who think we’re about to fall off a cliff culturally, and that it’s up to us to prevent that fall. While it’s certainly right to seek the welfare of the community where God has placed us (Jer 29.7), and to exercise our privileges when we live, by God’s kind providence, in a participatory governmental system, God’s people must do so in a way that trusts him for the outcome rather than living in fear of undesired results or in desperation to benefit at any cost. Desperation is a fundamentally unbiblical attitude.

Confirmation bias. We humans think we’re right—we would be acting insanely if we didn’t—and we enjoy having the rightness of our views confirmed. That’s natural. But if the Scripture tells us anything, it’s that “natural” is not a synonym for “good” (1Co 2.14). The Lord tells us to distrust our inclinations, to be suspicious of our natural ways of thinking (Jer 17.9). As we can easily discern when we consider anyone who disagrees with us, confirmation bias is just a form of pride: it’s our seeking for approval through the praise of our own thinking and conclusions. Admitting that you’re wrong is a humbling experience.

Tribalism. By this I don’t mean having a circle of like-minded people; we all do that, and it can be lived out in a healthy way. I mean the tendency to withdraw into such a circle and to exclude those outside. These days this problem is exacerbated by social media. The algorithms of Facebook and other social media platforms tend to shrink rather than expand the number of ideas we interact with. We get offered “friend suggestions” of people who think the same way we do. We’re channeled, like cattle, into herds that are capable only of reinforcing the ideas we express most passionately. In that situation, our ideas will likely not be challenged in any kind of thoughtful way, and the only expressions of opposing ideas will be simplistic and cartoonish, just so we can dismiss them without serious thought.

And so we express ourselves by passing on some claim that we got from someone who agrees with us, and we don’t check it because it’s obviously true. And within minutes scores of our “friends” congratulate us for being so brave and insightful and smart, and the rush of endorphins propels us like a Waikiki wave on to our next absurd oversimplification—our next lie.

Rather than sensing the quiet voice of the Spirit in conviction of our carelessness, we revel in the praise of “friends” we barely know, just because there are so many of them.

And the division spreads.

We sow, and we reap.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

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