Andy Stanley and What Has NOT Been Talked About

Albert Mohler, president of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary recently wrote an article on his blog about megachurches. In the article, he referenced an April 15 sermon (click on message 5: When Gracie Met Truthy) by Andy Stanley of North Point Community Church in Atlanta where Stanley seems to normalize homosexual behavior. After reading the article and listening to the sermon and then reading several other articles, what amazes me is what people weren’t upset about. Of course, many in the evangelical world would be upset about his apparent normalization and acceptance of homosexual behavior, but no one seemed to notice three bigger, underlying issues.

First, Stanley says that Jesus’ love was messy, inconsistent, unfair, and confusing. Granted, he sort of implied that these were from our perspective—but not really. Because he went on to say that when our love seems messy, inconsistent, unfair, and confusing, we must be doing it right. I would disagree. First, while things may have appeared messy, inconsistent, unfair, and confusing from the disciples’ or our point of view, they certainly were not from Jesus’ point of view. And we need to keep that in mind. Stanley says that when we try to figure it out, we are in danger of losing something. Again, I would disagree. We need to understand why Jesus was not inconsistent or unfair (from our point of view) so that we can accurately display God’s love as well. To imply that Jesus was inconsistent and unfair shows a lack of understanding about Jesus’ deity. He was not just a man who changed the rules. Certainly he related to different people in different ways, but he was perfectly consistent in his love, grace, truth, justice, and holiness.

Second, Stanley redefined two key theological terms: grace and truth. In giving a long list of things that grace means, he said, “Grace says, ‘You’re fine.’” But Grace does not say, “You’re fine.” In fact, grace is the loud and clear declaration that we are not fine. Grace is getting something we don’t deserve. If we are fine, we don’t need grace, and therefore, we don’t need God. This is a horrible representation of what grace is. He also said, in a long string of what truth means, that truth says, “You’ve got to work it out.” Truth does not say that in the Bible. Truth says, “You can’t work it out, but God can.” Stanley even pitted grace and truth against each other like two parents raising a child. While he didn’t use this analogy, I came across with the perception of good cop/bad cop sort of deal. But again, this is not correct. God is both grace and truth. They do not battle each other, and certainly grace is not untruth, as Stanley implied. Granted, Stanley did say, on more than one occasion, that Jesus was complete grace and complete truth, and he even had a nice visual to demonstrate this. But the previous long explanation about the differences between the two stayed in my mind as well, and they were what actually stuck with me more than the visual.

Finally, the issue of shepherd and sheep comes into play in the sermon. In the long story he told as his final illustration of the importance of grace and truth, a man and his male partner were allowed to be involved in some ministry team even though one of the men was still married. It took a conversation with the ex-wife of the other man with Andy Stanley and then a phone call to the satellite church for the men to be removed from the ministry team because of the adultery of the married man. How is it that two unmarried people, engaging in extra-marital sex, with both men committing adultery—one on his former wife, the other on his current wife—are allowed to be actively involved in ministry? Was there no one to ask questions? Had the church gotten so big, and desperate, for volunteers that any warm body could sign up to serve?

It appears that North Point is in danger in at least three ways. First, they have diminished the character of the Lord Jesus Christ. Second, they are teaching a false idea of two key theological terms: grace and truth. Third, they have lost control of the ability to monitor the spiritual fitness of  those who desire to serve in ministry. And if these issues aren’t dealt with, it will matter little what North Point’s view of homosexuality is.

What do you mean by that? Semantics Part II

We talked about denotation vs. connotation today in English class. It brought my last post to mind. Then I read this post, and it reminded me of this vision statement from the Dismantling Racism Task force of the United Methodist Church’s North Texas Conference (these thought trains can be dangerous):

Through the power of the Holy Spirit, the people of the North Texas Conference of the United Methodist Church seek to fulfill the word of God by committing to the full participation of people of all racial identities including their gifts, their worldviews and their cultures.

I actually had an opportunity to talk to one of the authors of the statement. I asked him if he really thought it was a good idea to fully include someone with Hitler’s worldview. His response: “Well, that’s not what we meant.” Well, that is what it says. Or what about a Muslim worldview. And does full participation mean they can be pastors. Without defining terms, this statement is at best unscriptural and at worst a statement of universalism. 

And what does Pete mean when he says,

[Jesus] would…include anybody who came up to him.

I have read Pete’s blog long enough to know what I think he means by that, and it’s not what I think the North Texas Conference means.  I have been around the Methodist Church long enough to know I really didn’t buy it when I was told, 

That’s not what we meant.

I know that I fail to define terms as well, and now this reminds me to work hard to be clear.

Offering belief in suffering

Kumalo said, 

…so in my suffering I can believe.

How? In the face of what he had suffered: a child condemned to death, a sister forsaking hope for sin, starvation among his people, how could he believe?

Kindness and love can pay for suffering.

The body of Christ rose up and held his hand, supported his frail body and disturbed mind—with kindness. The body of Christ did what God designed it to do. They accepted their pastor and his family’s failures and allowed him to grieve. And they loved him in the process. What about me and you? Are we being the body of Christ today? Can kindness and love guide our actions? Or are we angry? Are we self-absorbed? Can we forsake our agenda for someone in need? 

And I come to believe that he [Jesus] suffered, not to save us from suffering, but to teach us how to bear suffering. For he knew that there is no life without suffering. 

The friend offers these words to Kumalo. They bring him joy for he knows that his friend understands that suffering is not to be shunned, not to be explained away, not to be trivialized. He knows his friend will not encourage him to just put a smile on his face and pretend all is OK for the sake of others. Kumalo knows he can suffer—and still be loved.

And he gave some as…pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ. Ephesians 4:11-12

Make no mistake. The body of Christ in Ndotsheni would not have acted this way unless Kumalo had taught them how. The actions of the community upon his return testifies to his Godly pastoring. And so the charge is laid at our feet, those of us who have children, employees, congregants. If God has placed someone under your care, are you equipping them to be the body of Christ? We must not disciple for selfish reasons, but we must disciple in a way that those whom we are seeking to equip understand the truths of suffering and kindness. If not us, someone will need them.

Can you see?

At the end of To Kill a Mockingbird, Scout has fallen asleep while Atticus is reading to her. While he is taking her to bed, she is recounting to him in broken sentences what has happened in the story to “prove” to him that she “heard every word.” The name of the book was The Gray Ghost. In the story people are after this boy because they think he’s messing with their clubhouse, but they couldn’t catch him because no one knew what he looked like.

Scout finished her drowsy rendition with these words, “…when they finally saw him, why he hadn’t done any of those things…Atticus, he was real nice…”

Atticus replied, “Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.”

Now, one might cry foul, having Atticus read a story that paralleled the kids’ experience with Boo Radley just so Atticus could make a point. (Of course, I’m not convinced that Scout isn’t mixing her stories here.) The point had to be made, though. The whole book is about perceptions: the kids’ of Boo, the town folks’ of Tom, the Ewell’s of Atticus, …

With the exception of Boo, everyone else could be seen clearly enough, I suppose, or could they? You see Boo is an anomaly. He wasn’t seen, but we see folks every day, and because we can see flesh, we think we know people. Atticus wasn’t talking about that at all. He was talking about standing in their shoes. That is why he could let Mr. Ewell spit in his face and wipe it off and go about his business. That is why he could defend Tom in the face of so much opposition. That is why he made Jem read to Mrs. DuBose. Atticus had the ability, no, the desire to stand in others’ shoes so that he could find the niceness in them. So he could love them. 

The church is shamed by people like Atticus. We can’t afford not to walk in people’s shoes. For if we don’t we can’t love them, and we are called to love people. Scout had a special privilege to overcome her misconceptions about Boo, and she took advantage of it. How often do we take advantage of the opportunities that we have to walk in someone else’s shoes? When was the last time you took that opportunity? What difference did it make?

Blog etiquette

I have been reading Losing My Religion for about a week now. I had made a comment on this post (read part I of the post here.) to offer another thought on the issue. I did so without bothering to read too deeply into Jeff’s blog. Had I done so, I could have crafted my words better to make sure he and those reading his blog knew I was not referring to him in regards to heretical content but was making a point that the specific language in his post has been used by others who have wandered away from orthodoxy.

All that to say: Jeff responded to my comments with a post that made his position clear and at the same time was polite and in no way demeaning to me. I greatly appreciate not only the grace he showed to me after my less than careful response, but also the way he relates to others on his blog. I have read far too many blogs where the first hurt feeling turns into name calling, bullying, and general dishonoring of the Savior. So thank you, Jeff, for caring about people as you seek to follow Christ.

I feel; therefore, I am.

Jake says, “That was morality; things that made you disgusted afterward.”

Jake would fit in well in our culture. Morality by feeling guides the conscience of the country, bringing about the culture wars: abortion, sex, free speech, hate speech, restricted speech, the environment, capital punishment, racism, sexism, etc. Whether or not you agree with the concepts outlined in the Ten Commandments, the removal of such a marker of morality throws open the door of ambiguity. I do not mean that some document like the Ten Commandments avoids all vagueness, yet without some solidified code, a republic, such as ours, governs by feeling.

One may argue this point by saying that we are governed by a “majority rules” system. We must not forget that this is a republic not a democracy. Rules are rarely voted on by the masses. Even then, do you think the majority of the masses make their decisions based upon what is best for all or what is logical or how they feel? What about the senators, congressmen, and judges who make decisions? Are they not swayed by feeling? Oh, they may couch their rulings in the language of law or precedent or logic, but were it so clear cut, dissent would be minimal. Our country, for good or ill, is governed by feeling. 

That is why laws change. Peoples’ perceptions change. Television producer Yvette Lee Bowser said this, “Maybe if we can have a good laugh, we’ll all be less uptight about it.” She was referring to the promotion of an interracial show. Her interviewer then asked, “Sort of like what Will and Grace has done for gay        issues?”  I am not claiming some Hollywood secret homosexual agenda; I am just stating that we change as we become accustomed to ideas. And the feelings of this country have changed in the last 50 years about a lot of things: race, sex, and the environment seemingly being the hot topics at this time. Education has some effect on people. Logical arguments have some effect on people, but getting people involved emotionally has the largest effect.

We live in a secular society. The United States was set up as a secular society. To argue differently is to twist the facts. Now, a vast majority of those who made up the society in those days were religious and held to certain morals. But to say that because the people were religious equaled a religious government is a non sequitur. The views of the people of this country have changed. Therefore, it appears that our government is more secular. 

So, Jake is right, not just about himself, but about our country as well. Yet, Jake really wouldn’t fit in here well. You see, things that disgusted him, might not disgust us today. That is why it is important to have a marker of morality that is less whimsical than my feelings. For me, that is the Bible. Is it immune from vagueness? Certainly not. Is it fraught with ambiguity and discrepancy as some claim? Certainly not. Do I understand it all perfectly? No. Does that invalidate it as a useful guide? By no means! I must look through a Biblical lens to determine my stance on any issue. Do any other lenses come into play? Certainly. The Church has an impact. The society and culture I am in have a say as well.

Feelings, however, are poor guides and fuzzy lenses.

Throwing the baby out with the bath water

Okonkwo is the main character in Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. The first chapter deals with the dichotomy between Okonkwo and his father. Because his father lived a life of sloth and weakness, Okonkwo was determined not to. “And so Okonkwo was ruled by one passion—to hate everything that his father Unoka had loved.” 

I have not read but a page beyond this, but here is a tragic flaw if ever I have seen one. I don’t know if this book is a tragedy in the vein of Hamlet, but Achebe has certainly given a thesis statement that I believe will be central to the book. I don’t know if redemption or failure awaits Okonkwo. I do know that if he throws the baby out with the bath water, this will end tragically. 

The church has taken this path numerous times: that belief, movement, ideology is wrong, so let’s make sure we don’t look anything like it in any way. For fear of being labeled, we run as fast and as far as we can in the opposite direction.

I realize exceptions to all examples may be found, but let me offer one. For fear of being labeled liberal, evangelicals have wanted nothing to do with environmental causes for years. Thankfully, that is turning around, but I wonder if it has more to do with them running from something else than embracing the God given mandate to care for the earth. I hope the latter is the case. Evangelicals should not be afraid of being labeled a tree-hugger if they are doing what they should be doing. And just because someone does desire to protect the environment does not mean they worship mother earth or that they care more about trees or the spot-footed lizard than they do people.

To be a Christian means to look at situations through a Christological lens. When we do that, each part of a situation must be examined. It may be that all of a movement or belief system or ideology is thrown out, but it also might mean that parts of it are embraced, regardless of the label that may come. Being Christ-followers requires us to use our brains. Let’s check the tub before we dump it. 

Prayer for strangers

Upon visiting In Progress today, I had the privilege of praying for several people I did not know. I had already spent some time in prayer and in the book of Romans, but the day and it’s to-do list was still hanging over me. The time spent praying for these folks refreshed me. This encouragement to pray is one of the many things I enjoy about the church we get to attend. The church supports numerous missionaries all over the world, and several times a week, I get an opportunity to pray for someone I don’t know through an e-mail from our Sunday school class, the Sunday bulletin, or the daily prayer calendar the church puts out. These times of prayer where I often have no way of knowing the results remind me of our utter dependence upon God. For that, I am blessed.