peace – Page 2

For My Angry Friends, Part 3: Foundation

July 8, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

As we noted last time, Paul begins Titus’s “to-do list” by urging him to get the right leadership in place in the churches (Ti 1.5-9), because right leadership, and the teaching that comes with it, is essential to solving the significant problem that is already manifest across the island of Crete: false teachers are leading the Cretans down the path to social destruction (Ti 1.10-11), a development made all the easier by the fact that Cretan society is inclined to go that way (Ti 1.12). Specifically, their rejection of the truth is likely to drive them to foolish arguments, which can only divide (Ti 1.13-14). If a people is rightly oriented toward God, they’re more likely to recognize accurately what is right and, consequently, to do it (Ti 1.15-16). Hence the need for solid leadership.

And what are those well-qualified leaders going to teach these wrong-headed, angry, fragmented people? “Healthy” teaching (Ti 2.1). Solid, robust, muscular truth. That’s going to set up a society among the believers—a subculture, if you will—where the different demographic elements—the older men, the older women, the younger women, the younger men, the slaves, everybody (Ti 2.2-10)—live differently—noticeably differently—from the corrupt culture around them, each doing its part to contribute to the whole body.

I find it interesting that while each subgroup has slightly different responsibilities springing from its place in the culture—older women are to be the teachers of the younger women, for example, and to avoid gossip, while younger women are to be diligent about their natural responsibilities in the home—yet there is an overarching commonality that informs their specific behaviors. At the root of the specific things they do to fulfill their responsibilities is a sense of restraint: both the older and younger men are to be “dignified” and “sensible” (vv 2, 7), and the younger women are to be “sensible” as well (v 5), while the older women are to “teach what is good”—including sensibility (v. 5)—and not be “enslaved” to wine—both of which speak of restraint and wisdom.

In short, exercising restraint. Not doing whatever they feel like doing at the moment, but choosing to do the wise things, the good things, the things that contribute to the building up, not the tearing down, of the fragile and troubled society that surrounds them. Speaking what is true. Calling for love (vv 2, 4).

Even the hot-blooded young men are to do good (v 7), speak in ways that are “beyond reproach” (v. 8), so that—get this—“the opponent will be put to shame, having nothing bad to say about us” (v 8).

And the slaves? Those not well respected by the larger society? Those under—to put it mildly—difficult circumstances, being unjustly burdened?

Don’t argue (v 9). Show all good faith (v. 10).

So how are we doing? We live in a broken society, one filled with unhealthy ideas and words.

Are we part of the disease, or part of the cure?

What does posting things that are not true—lies—do to that already sick situation?
What does lack of restraint in our angry outbursts do?
What does evident lack of love (“let’s make Colin Kaepernick lose his mind!”) do?
What does gossip do?
What does lack of dignity do?
What does calling for open rebellion do?
What does arguing do?

Do these things give the enemy something bad to say about us?

Do they adorn the teaching that we have heard?

Do they?

If you’ve been paying attention to our political culture lately, no doubt this list of questions has called to mind specific things you’ve seen online—memes, posts, comments.

If the sins that have come to your mind have all been committed by your opposition—Trump supporters, never-Trumpers, conservatives, liberals, Democrats, Republicans, whatever—then you’re part of the problem.

Evaluate your own words against the criteria of truth, sensibility, and restraint.

And repent.

And as soon as you’ve done that, you have some work to do.

Some posts to go back and delete. Or to leave up, with an added comment declaring your repentance as loudly and publicly as you declared your rage.

Some personal messages, public and private, to those you’ve sinned against.

Time to stand out for good reasons, biblical ones.

For the mission. For the Kingdom.

For the King.

Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

For My Angry Friends, Part 2: Introduction

July 4, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

It’s providential that this post, part 2 of a whatever-part series, arrives on July 4, US Independence Day. You’ll see why in a bit.

As I noted last time, I’ve found some things in Paul’s letter to Titus that I think apply directly to addressing the polarization dominating our country’s public discourse, and even the church’s public discourse, in these days.

If I’m going to make points from the Bible, I need to start with context, to ensure that I’m not pulling proof-texts wildly out of context but reflecting what the author actually intended to say. So let’s start there.

This epistle Paul wrote to his protégé, Titus, after leaving him on the island of Crete to care for the fledgling churches there. (And yes, I believe Paul actually wrote this letter, despite the huffings and puffings of contemporary critical scholarship. I don’t think there’s any substantive reason to doubt that, and several substantive reasons not to.)

Paul lays out his assignment for Titus in what amounts to the thesis statement of the letter, Titus 1.5:

For this reason I left you in Crete, that you would
1) set in order what remains and
2) appoint elders in every city as I directed you.

He then expands on these two statements in reverse order. (That’s called a chiasm, if you care to look it up.)

Titus 1.6-9 appointing elders in every city
Titus 1.10-3.11 setting in order what remains (to be done)

And what remains to be done?

Silencing the false teachers (Titus 1.10-16), and by contrast
Instructing specific groups how to reflect the grace that God has shown them (Titus 2.1-15) and
Instructing the body as a whole how to reflect the grace that God has shown them (Titus 3.1-11)

In my thinking, it’s the third chapter that gives us special help with the polarization that surrounds and dominates us. Beginning with the truth of the gospel—Christ “gave Himself for us to redeem us from every lawless deed, and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good deeds” (Titus 2.14), Paul demonstrates that our life with one another should be fundamentally different from the way it used to be. In the most literal sense, it should be extraordinary.

So chapter 3 is a map of social life, corporate life, public life, among redeemed people. How do we see, and thus treat, one another? How do we operate within society? How do we get along? On what basis? And to what end? And what do we do with deviations?

I’m convinced that if the church, corporately and individually, adopted this model and implemented it—by the grace of God—we would treat one another very differently. And the world would sit up and take notice—for some, for deliverance, and for others, for hardening and eventual destruction. But for all, for good.

So what are the evidences of a godly social life, including citizenship (Titus 3.1-2)? Why are those the evidences (Titus 3.3-7)? What is the key criterion for proper relationships (Titus 3.8-9)? And what do we do when somebody goes off the rails (Titus 3.10-11)?

Your homework for next week is to spend some time in this brief passage and note the answers you find to these questions. We’ll get down into it in detail next time.

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

For My Angry Friends, Part 1: Foreword

July 1, 2019 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

As I noted in my
last post here, I’ve taken a 4-week hiatus in order to devote my attention to a daily journal of the BJU Africa Team’s adventures in Tanzania, from which we’ve just returned. It was nice to be there, and it’s nice to be back.

In the interim, I’ve been thinking about the next adventure on this blog. I’d prefer to write about something I care about, of course, and something that might be of some help to people I care about. There are a lot of such things and such people, but I suppose the thing that’s most on my mind these days—at least of the troubling things—is the polarization of our country and the effect of that polarization on my friends.

I see it pretty much every day during my scrolling time on Facebook. I have a number of FB friends—many of them retired folks with long records of Christian service and care for others—whose postings are mostly a concatenation of forwarded stories and memes with recurring themes—

Things that are just not true. I’ve addressed
that here before.
Things designed to stick a finger in the eye of
liberals. Mockery. Disdain. I’ve written
about that, too. “I’m not ashamed to post this MAGA hat. How many of my friends
have the courage to share? Let’s show those stupid liberals!”
Expressions of frustration with the way things
are going. Fear that God’s people are going to lose the battle.

All of these things have a common theme. They read as though there is no God, and if there is, he’s not in his heaven, and all is not right with the world. These dear friends are expressing a godless worldview, one that gives no hope, no offer of grace, no attraction, to those who are actually godless.

That’s a very bad ambassador (2Co 5.18-20) indeed.

I have another group of friends, equally dear to me. I don’t suppose these folks would object to being called “never-Trumpers.” They don’t like President Orange, and they shake their heads at anybody who does, for any reason. “Can’t you people see what you’re doing? You’re destroying evangelical Christianity! You’re undermining our credibility for generations to come!” Tut, tut. The posts of these friends read as though there is no God, and if there is, he’s not in his heaven, and all is not right with the world. These dear friends are expressing a godless worldview, one that is dominated by fear, one that questions the motives and the intelligence—and even the spiritual life—of fellow believers. They, too, fear that God’s people are going to lose the battle.

These two groups of friends have more in common than they might think.

Sometimes they post things that are true and ought to be considered in the political discussion.
But in the main they’re just reflexively forwarding, without checking, anything that confirms their worldview bias.
In being motivated primarily by fear or frustration, they’re demonstrating, as I said earlier, an essentially godless worldview.

God is never inattentive, or hurried, or frustrated, or unconcerned. He’s at work. He raises up kings—both Obama and Trump, most recently—and he sets them down again. All things he does are good and for the ultimate good of his people and, ultimately, his glory.

And if we believe these things—and we must, for they’re true—then we will live in a broken world with a different spirit—a different Spirit—one that brings to the observing enemies of God astonishment and even attraction. One that shouts—yes, that is the right word, as odd as it sounds in context—peace.

Shalom.

Not the peace of the Pollyanna or the Scarlett O’Hara (“I’m not going to think about that right now”), but the peace of the one who knows things that the riotous crowds don’t, who sees the chariots of fire on the hillsides all about, who knows that the chaos is only apparent.

I’d like for all my dear friends to grasp that so firmly that it oozes out of the pores of their every post— not for the sake of my newsfeed, but for the sake of my friends. Calming, conquering peace, way deep down at the core of their souls. And yes, for the sake of the legitimately fearful and frustrated, who have no source of peace, but who know people who do have it, or should have it.

What a difference we could make. What a stark contrast we could demonstrate.

In God’s kind providence, during this hiatus I’ve been studying Paul’s letter to Titus in some depth. I’ve found some things there that have helped clarify what I’ve been thinking about this bunch of troubled hearts. In this series, I’m going to share some of those things.

On to that next time.

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

On Peace

November 5, 2018 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Been thinking a lot about peace lately.

I suppose you can guess why.

In the runup to tomorrow’s midterm elections—the most important election of our lifetime!—there’s not much evidence of peace. Both sides are scared of the consequences of losing the election, and they want you to be scared too—provided, of course, you’ll vote for their side. When all your friends have an interest in making you afraid, peace can be a little hard to come by.

But we all want it—or say we do.

The Jews greet each other with the simple word peace—“shalom.” So do the Arabic-speaking peoples—“salaam alaikum.” And the latter greeting makes explicit what is only implicit in the Hebrew custom—why they say the word at all.

It’s a wish. The greeter is saying he wants you to be at peace, and that his intentions toward you are peaceful: “peace to you.” And if you are familiar with the culture, you respond reflexively: “wa alaikum salaam” (“and to you, peace”). I hear that greeting, and offer it, frequently in both West and East Africa, where there’s considerable Muslim and thus Arabic influence.

Peace. We all want it.

During times of war, our desires are pretty simple and straightforward—we just want the fighting and killing to stop. We want to go home. We want to be with our families. We want to not be afraid all the time. We want a peace treaty. The Old Testament often uses the word shalom this way.

But once the fighting has stopped, we find that that’s not all we wanted. We want peace at home, too. We want the neighborhood to be safe. We want our kids to be able to play outside until the street lights come on. We want to have block parties. We want to jog along the streets and wave at our neighbors. We want the mailman not to get bitten by the neighbor’s junkyard dog.

And the circle of concern gets narrower. We want peace inside the house as well as out in the neighborhood. We want to love and enjoy the company of our spouse. We want our children to love and respect us, and love to be at home with us, and make us proud. We want quiet nights by the fireplace with hot chocolate and popcorn. We want to sing silly songs in the car on the way to Wally World. We want family.

And most of all, we want peace inside ourselves. We want to be free from worry, and hate, and fear. We want to feel like a walk in the woods, a campfire, and a night in the forest all the time.

We want peace.

The direction of our travel here has been from the outside in. We achieve peace in wartime, then in the neighborhood, then at home, and finally within ourselves.

Many of us think that’s how peace comes to us.

But it doesn’t.

It travels from the inside out.

It has to start with peace in your soul, in your spirit.

Why?

Because if your heart isn’t fundamentally at peace, you’ll bring strife and discord to your home. And your home will bring strife to your neighbors. And a country at war with itself will destabilize its national neighbors—and in this global neighborhood, all the rest of the world as well.

What causes quarrels and fights among you? Is it not that your passions are at war within you? (James 4.1).

The biblical word shalom speaks of a lot of kinds of peace—of absence of war (1K 4.25) or, less formally, of strife (Gen 26.29); of healthy, happy, harmonious relationships; of prosperity; of completeness or fullness; of fulfillment.

Of being in the place you were meant to be, one that matches you perfectly.

How does that happen?

In the Bible, it comes from being righteous (when you behave yourself and live in a way society views as orderly, your life tends to be a lot less complicated, doesn’t it? [Isa 32.17]); it comes from being in God’s presence and especially from being in a relationship with him (Gen 15.15; Ps 85.8; Isa 54.10). In short, it comes from God:

The Lord bless you and keep you;the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.

And, importantly, shalom doesn’t come from our circumstances; it’s independent of them (Isa 54.10). It’s not going to come from winning the election—I suspect that no matter who wins, the rage is only going to deepen. But when the world is shaking—whether the whole world, or just your world—the peace is still there, because God is still there.

Do you have peace?

If you’re a believer, you should. And in a day when the world is teetering, that’s what you should be communicating to those who have no peace.

You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.

A really good and attractive sore thumb.

Salaam alaikum, my friend.

Photo by Sunyu on Unsplash

Responding to Persecution, Part 2

November 1, 2018 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Part 1

In my previous post I introduced the subject of persecution and how the early church responded to it. As explained there, I’d like to take this post to summarize and extend an excellent discussion of Paul’s teaching on the subject in 1 Thessalonians by Michael Martin in the New American Commentary volume on Thessalonians.

In general, Paul is not playing games with his flock. He “did not attempt to diminish the severity of the Thessalonians’ persecution. Rather, he sought to broaden their vision” (Martin). Rather than fixating on themselves, and how hard and unfair their lives were, Paul called their attention to the Big Picture—to the far greater realities that were at work. These are not platitudes; they’re facts, and they place God’s people in a position to survive, to endure, even to thrive in the most unjust and painful situations.

So what are the big ideas?

If you’re a believer, you’re not suffering because people hate you. You’re suffering because they hate your Lord, the one they crucified, and because they hate his plan for his creation. “They suffered for the kingdom of God, not needlessly” (Martin; cf. 2Th 1.5). There is no greater cause, and there is no greater payoff. Jesus told of a man who found a pearl of great price and sold all he had to buy it (Mt 13.45-46). Seriously, now—what greater cause is there? Consider what sacrifices people will make for other, far lesser causes; is the path that God has asked you to walk really all that extraordinary?
Jesus is not asking you to walk a path any more difficult than the one he has already walked for you (1Th 1.6-7). This is a point Peter also makes when he remarks that “Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps” (1P 2.21). When we follow him, “despising the shame” (Heb 12.2), we demonstrate that our faith in him is genuine—that there’s substance to it. And that in turn gives us further motivation and strength to continue to endure.
Like any difficulty, persecution is temporary. At some point—sooner than you can believe while it’s happening—it will be over. And then you have two things to look forward to—
- Like the athlete suffering through 3-a-day workouts, you can anticipate the strength benefit you will derive from the exertion. “No pain, no gain” may be trite, but it’s wisdom culled from the experience of millions. As the fire refines gold, so suffering refines and improves and strengthens God’s people (1P 1.6-7). Embrace it.
- God’s plan is to present you perfect at Christ’s coming (1Th 1.10; 3.13). You will not only be stronger in this life, but you will be ultimately sanctified, glorified, when the final reckoning comes.
When we look around in our persecution, we see brothers and sisters suffering alongside us. We are not alone. In the case of the Thessalonians, they knew of Paul’s persecution in both Philippi and Thessalonica (1Th 2.2), and they knew of the suffering of the first Christians in Jerusalem, persecution in which Paul himself had long before played a role (1Th 2.14). This isn’t “misery loves company”; it’s support from teammates united in back-breaking effort.
We have infinite resources freely available to us in the struggle. We are indwelt, empowered, and gifted by the Holy Spirit (1Th 1.6); God himself gives us the power to “increase and abound” (1Th 3.12) and will “sanctify [us] wholly” (1Th 5.23)—yes, he surely “will do it” (1Th 5.24). This is not a battle God will lose, and if we are in him, we will not lose either.
Justice will come. Evil will be judged; the first will be last (1Th 2.16). It’s just the 3^rd inning; it’s too soon to take the score seriously. Things are not what they seem.

Martin concludes his summary with these remarkable words:

Knowledge of such truths does not make suffering disappear, nor does it mean that suffering is good or should be sought. But suffering is tolerable when it has purpose, when something of value is gained by it, and when those who inflict it do not do so with impunity. A sufferer gains comfort in the comradeship of shared suffering and can give thanks in all circumstances given the knowledge that the suffering will eventually give way to victory and reward. Peace is the result, an enduring and genuine sense of well-being even in the midst of distress.

May God give us grace to represent him well when suffering comes.

And may we not be whiners in the meantime.

7 Stabilizing Principles in a Chaotic World, Part 6

July 30, 2018 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Number 5: Peace. God enables his people to have inner peace amidst outward turmoil.

I’ve been fishing this lake since I was 10—since Dad first took me out on his boat. I’ve been working it professionally since I was 16, 6 days a week, 12 hours a day—well, except when the weather was too bad. I’m a professional; I have enough sense to stay off the lake when the weather could kill you. And I’ve seen weather like that, more than once. But I have never—never—seen a storm like this. It’s sudden, and violent, and powerful beyond all my experience to deal with it. We’re essentially baggage, being thrown around the boat by a storm the likes of which we’ve never seen.

We’re toast.

And he’s asleep.

Seriously?! How does he do that?!

Peter would soon find out how he does that. In a few moments, shaken awake by lifelong sailors who think they’re about to die, he speaks a few words, and the storm is dead, the water calm, the threat just a memory, as if a dream (Mk 4.35-41).

He does that because he’s Lord. He’s in charge. There is no threat.

__________

This summer I took my 5^th trip into Tanzania’s Serengeti National Park, one of the 4 premier safari locations in the world. On 4 of those 5 trips we’ve found lions. We drive up in our safari vehicles, to within perhaps 10 meters of the beasts, and we turn off the engines and just sit in silence, most of us taking photos as quickly as we can.

And what do the lions do?

Nothing.

They sit and stare across the plains, completely ignoring us. They may get up and walk around a bit, sometimes even rubbing up against our vehicles, but paying no attention to the people inside.

One year, it was a mating couple. Another, a female lion and 2 cubs. Another, 17 males sitting in the shade of a single acacia tree.

They ignore us. Why?

Because we’re no threat. The lion is the king of the jungle (and the savannah); he has no predators, and he knows it.

He’s at peace.

Now, the peace is deceptive; he’s capable of sudden, rapid, and brutal action. One year we saw a lioness take down a wildebeest literally 15 feet in front of our front bumper—eyes on us the entire time.

And that power is part of the reason for the peace. He has no need to fear.

__________

Jesus is like that. He has no fear, because he has no predators. He’s in charge. He’s king of kings.

And as we’ve noted, he’s directing all that’s happening around us, to his own spectacularly good ends. And he intends for us to play a part in how it all turns out.

That means we have no reason to be afraid. We ought to be at peace as well.

But God knows our frame; he knows that we are but dust (Ps 103.14), because he’s the one who formed us from the dust in the first place (Gen 2.7). And so he knows that we’re going to be afraid, even though we have no reason to be.

So what does he do?

He doesn’t just say, “Stop being afraid”—though he does do that (Lk 12.32).

He gives us his peace. He bequeaths it to us, a gift from the one who always gives the perfect gift for every occasion.

Peace he leaves with us. His peace he gives unto us. Don’t let your heart be troubled, he says, and don’t let it be afraid (Jn 14.27).

Throughout the Scripture God tells his people not to fear their enemies (Dt 1.21; Dt 31.6), or their circumstances (Gen 21.17; 1Ch 28.20). Why not? Because I am with you, he says (Dt 31.6; Isa 43.5). Reach up, take my hand. I won’t let you be destroyed.

But he does tell us to fear—not enemies, not circumstances—but him.

Fear God, and keep his commandments (Ecc 12.13).

And be at peace, no matter how violent the storm.

Part 7 Part 8

Photo by Keith Misner on Unsplash

7 Stabilizing Principles in a Chaotic World, Part 2

July 16, 2018 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

So, here we go. Principles to deliver us from the fear and anger that characterize too many of us.

Number 1: Providence. There is a God in heaven, who directs in the affairs of people and nations.

The lunatics are in fact not running the asylum. All that stuff that’s got you twisted into knots? Well, the stuff that’s actually true—we’ll get back to that idea later—has come to pass through divine intention. That’s just a fancy way of saying that God’s done it.

That’s true of the stuff we like—God sends sunshine, and rain, and crops, and seasons (Psa 104)—but it’s true of the stuff we don’t like as well. God has his way in the whirlwind and the storm, the prophet tells us (Nahum 1.3).

Whirlwinds are nothing to mess with. In 1998 a tornado wiped out Spencer, SD. A week later I was there. The whole town was just gone. The water tank on top of the hill? Gone. The gas station? Gone, though the concrete pads for the pumps were still there. The corn silos? Gone. The telephone poles? Twisted off 2 feet above the ground. No buildings, except for 1 house that was inexplicably spared. And the whole thing lasted just 6 minutes.

At 8.30 pm there was a town, and homes, and businesses, and normal life. By 8.45 it was all gone.

Who did that? The mayor? The governor? The devil?

Not according to Nahum.

God did it. For reasons of his own, which we may or may not ever understand.

But you know what? There’s still a Spencer, SD. By the grace of God, and through the hard work of a lot of remarkable people, life goes on at Karen’s Beauty Shop and Trinity Lutheran Church and the baseball field.

It’s not likely that anything worse than that has happened to you; if it has, I haven’t seen you post about it on Facebook.

And if it has, then take courage in this: God is working his plan, for you and for everybody else.

And here’s the thing. God isn’t impersonal, or arbitrary, or unfeeling in all of this. He doesn’t throw the switch on the train track just to see what will happen, or just to shake things up for some warped form of amusement.

God cares. He loves—personally, individually, intimately, passionately. And with a wisdom you and I could never fathom, he conducts the symphony of your life for your greatest spiritual benefit and for his greatest glory. He knows what he’s doing, and he acts out of wisely directed love—in a way no one else you have ever known ever could.

This God—the creator of heaven and earth; the keeper of covenant promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; the one watching over Israel, who neither slumbers nor sleeps; the lover of our very souls—this God is directing your steps, and mine, and everyone else’s to accomplish his perfect, delightful plan.

No, the lunatics are not running the asylum. God gave us Richard Nixon, and Jimmy Carter, and Ronald Reagan, and Barack Obama. And most recently he has given us Donald Trump. Love them or hate them, they are all—all—gifts from a wise and loving God, perfectly prepared and perfectly directed for the nation that elected them. That doesn’t mean they’re good, or wise, or effective. But it does mean that he is.

So why live in desperation, or rage, or panic, or frustration? Is there not a God in heaven? Do you not trust him? Does he not give peace?

Maybe, if you have no peace, you have no basis for it. Peace comes not from the political process, or health, or leisure, or physical resources. Peace, peace in your soul, comes from above, not from outside. Peace comes from the Prince of Peace (Isa 9.6), by whom we have peace with God (Rom 5.1), and through whom we find peace even with our enemies (Eph 3).

Think on these things. Breathe them into your reading, and listening, and surfing. And see if maybe your perspective, and thus your reactions, come to reflect peace more than panic.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Photo by Keith Misner on Unsplash