28.2.14

The Community Problem

I had a wonderful conversations with a Christian friend from down the street today--at Chick-fil-A, of course.

Perhaps it was due to his extroverted conversational demeanor, or his background from a more relational culture (he's Filipino), but it was more substantive conversations I've had on the deployment since I've returned. He wasn't as interested in stories as much as effects, which I appreciate.

Much of soldiering is not about stories. It's not a highlight reel to be collected on film, or to be used as a basis of an inspirational pep talk. When people ask for stories, here's what I feel like they want:

"The murky sky carried bad omens for the day ahead, seemingly filled with violence, awaiting the long-suppressed storm. Our convoy was but a few blocks from our post when a car burst into flames in front of us, blocking our path. Another vehicle, packed with crudely-made explosives slammed into the rear vehicle, turning it into a rolling ball of flame and preventing our escape. Bullets seemed to rain upon us from all directions, threatening to wipe us all out. Until Tex charged through the door and up the stairs and the machine gun nest fell silent. Oh, Tex. I wonder if he was thinking of his sweetheart back home..."

Our stories are not like that. And requesting them can make soldiers feel like a sideshow, exploited for others' entertainment. Or feel embarrassed for simply doing their duty and not having any captivating experiences. But effects--that's where the substantive conversations really lie.

Soldiers, myself included (though I consider myself as the least of soldiers), often come home cynical and embittered. They feel like Paul Baumer from All Quiet on the Western Front, who was disgusted by the politics of war and shallow patriotism often demonstrated by friends and colleagues. This feeling may not often be an accurate assessment of folks back home, but it comes with the cultural gap that exists between a soldier at war and a land at peace.

My friend expressed his own sorrow at how poorly the VA cares for veterans and the fact that many of our homeless are themselves war veterans. He wondered, with all the money our country has, why we couldn't do more for soldiers. I think his sentiment is dead on, but his solution is flawed. The VA hires people to give hugs, and the government itself cannot hug a veteran. Veterans often slip through the cracks of governmental care because it's the government, and layers of bureaucracy stifle support, not secure it.

I do not fault the VA for not doing what it cannot do. And while many vets could use more financial and medical support as a result of their service, what they need most of all is love. A warm hug, or a conversation accompanied by a smoldering cigar, is worth as much as a hot meal.

I imagine that when soldiers left for war a few generations ago, they were greatly missed. Yellow ribbons would sprout out through a soldiers' neighborhood. Friends might send letters. Neighbors would come over with meals. But not today (except in certain small town and rural areas).

As sociologists have well-documented (like Putnam's Bowling Alone), communities are quickly disintegrating in our country. Even if I know that a soldier down the street is deploying, I don't know that soldiers. Because we work eighty hours a week, lock the doors of our suburban enclaves as soon as we get home, and spend another twenty or thirty hours on electronic forms of escapist entertainment (see Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death), we don't get to know our neighbors.

When the soldier goes off to war, he goes alone and he comes back alone, and America doesn't go with him. And if he returns home in a casket, his mother's tears will never be heard by the person next door.

This isn't a problem specific to the military, but to our society. The way we can best care for our soldiers is to unlatch the door, invite our neighbors over dinner, and seek to form once more the rich webs of community that support the strong and catch the weak in their hour of need.

And this is also an unprecedented opportunity for the Church. She needs not compete with other communities, for She is practically the only one left standing. "Community," like "authenticity," is often employed as a self-righteous cliche by those who pretentiously stand over and above human relationships. But cliche is also a moral mandate of the Church. When all other bonds break down, we alone carry the torch of that biblical dictum--"Love thy neighbor." And that communal care, for both fellow believers and unbelievers, is often made into a cradle for the New Birth, by God's grace.

Love your neighbor and you will love the soldier. More important, if you love your neighbor, you are loving Christ. And this is but a small token of gratitude offered back to He who endured a lonely manger, a lonely life, and a lonely cross for the ones who despised Him.


26.2.14

Straight Thoughts on Dealing with Homosexuality

I spoke with a grieving soldier for a few minutes on the phone last night. His mom's lesbian partner of eighteen years--his "step-mom"--passed away from liver failure.

It is times like this that an issue like homosexuality becomes decidedly less political. Some might wonder how I, as an evangelical chaplain, can counsel somebody on such an occasion.

And I come back to the same basic point that I have often made before: sin is sin, suffering is suffering, people are people. How would I counsel a soldier whose mom lost her live-in boyfriend of eighteen years and thus was like a father to the soldier?

This soldier's family is proof that many of our sociological arguments against homosexuality ultimately don't hold water. From what meager statistics we can conjure up, are homosexual couples more likely to be promiscuous or break-up? Yep. But clearly not all of them. Sometimes, they will last until the end of life.

In addition, is the lack of both a mother and father in the home a detriment to children? Certainly, though that situation is the norm at this point. But my soldier is not irretrievably damaged. He is married (to a woman), and has three beautiful kids.

As with evolution, Christians cannot employ a "God of the gaps" line of logic in dealing with homosexuality. We expose a unresolved dilemma for the Darwinist scientist, but that dilemma could potentially be resolved through the modern scientific method. We expose probably moral consequences of homosexual relationships, but those moral consequences may not always hold.

But the better approach is not the same for these two issues. For evolution, we work to undermine the modern scientific enterprise by exposing its faulty philosophical foundations. For homosexuality, we engage sinners like ourselves, not in argument, but with compassion and carefully-worded truth.

I mentioned nothing of homosexuality last night with my soldier. It would be callous and heartless to do so. I grieved with him and prayed for his mother especially. Her pain is nothing less that the person married for eighteen years or with a live-in boyfriend. A broken heart is a broken heart.

And in the long-run, I ask convicting questions of folks from all walks of life, myself included, regarding relationships. What are they for? Simply for our happiness and amusement? To make us feel loved and needed and important? Or are they meant to point to something greater? Is sexuality at the core of relationships, or is sacrifice? What then are we called to sacrifice, and to what end?

God-willing, these sorts of questions will lead the homosexual, promiscuous heterosexual, and me all to the same conclusion, by God's grace: My goal in my relationships is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. And the rule for bringing glory to my mighty and gracious God is His Word, through which He leads me in paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. Sexuality is important, but ultimately, I desire His pleasure more than my own.

May we all seek to subordinate our sinful desires to His glorious will. May we find our pleasure in His pleasure. And may He graciously grant us the strength to do this!

25.2.14

Moments of Conviction and Comfort

A pastor recently apologized after his sermon for raising his voice inappropriately.

The problem was not raising his voice--this pastor is a very animated preacher with a very animated personality. But he sensed that at one particular point when he raised his voice, there was anger and bitterness lying behind his words. So he apologized.

I heard about this example and almost teared up. As a congregant in the pew, I would be touched, even if I thought the apology unnecessary, because of the pastor's humility and repentance.

As a fellow pastor, I am convicted about the number of times when I have raised my voice in the pulpit with unhealthy motives and sinful feelings at work. I excuse such moments with self-assurances that I am presenting hard truths and trying to wake people up to certain realities.

But the reality is that it is the Gospel that changes hearts and it is the Gospel that takes hard truths (like the depths of our sin) and brings us from conviction to comfort and lives of gratitude.

When I raise my voice, it should be to join the angels in singing praise to the Lamb and encouraging others to join in the song.

I am convicted that I should be more prayerful and gentle from the pulpit, and comforted by the knowledge that God's people come to hear God's Word, not my voice, and thus will often find conviction and comfort where it can be found. May I find it there too.

Ordinary Evangelism

"Dang it," I thought when I arrived home, "I forgot my business cards."

I interacted with a number of people today, running very ordinary errands. I dropped my wife's car off at the shop and chatted briefly with a young employee I met the last time I was there. The owner of the shop then gave me a ride to Starbucks while I waited for my car. In the course of that brief drive, I learned that he likes to drive down to North Carolina with his girlfriend in order to visit his extended family. I also learned that he grew up in Washington DC (the actual city, not the surroundings). When I was at the shop a few weeks ago, I learned that his son is a former Marine and with wife and two-year-old in two, is finishing his education, paid for by Uncle Sam.

At Starbucks, I enjoyed some quality work time. I started in on the translation of my Bible passage for Sunday morning, wrestling with the Greek and enjoying the richness of God's Word. I read a few chapters of the Westminster Confession of Faith, and continued to correspond with Church family members as I get reintegrated within the body. As I waited to be picked up, a woman noticed I was reading my Bible (just started 1 Samuel) and started talking to me about going to a Bible-believing church after growing up Roman Catholic and how exciting it is to learn about God's Word.

Finally, I was picked up by Mike, who works at the car shop. He's a young father like me, with a two year old boy he adores. He looks forward to taking his kid to sporting event once the new ballpark in Ashburn in completed.

After each interaction, I thought "Dang it, I forgot my business cards." But that doesn't really matter. Evangelism is not a spiritual "one night stand." It is not simply the presentation of the Gospel, or inviting people to church, but includes the proactive love of strangers and acquaintances--the fostering of relationships that God may one day bless to draw another sinner into the folds of His saving grace in Christ.

I will have more opportunities to hand out my card next time I go to the car shop. Maybe I'll ask the owner about how it felt when his son was deployed and what hope he latched onto during that time. Maybe I'll ask Mike about whether his son wants to hang out with another little boy, or whether the two of them want to come to church. Maybe I won't. I'll see what brief conversations bear fruit and which do not. And then I'll think about what to say the next time I go to the car shop.

23.2.14

Worship God's Way

When you think of worship, not in the general way of offering our bodies as living sacrifices (Rom. 12:1), but of what you do in our worship services on the Lord's Day, what do you think of?

Do you think of what type of music it is that we prefer? Are you grateful that you go to the type of church that does music the way you want, so that you can feel free to express yourself freely?

We often think seriously about who we worship, but not how we worship. You are either worshiping the Triune God revealed in Scripture, of you are worshiping an idol. Even if you worship the Triune God revealed in Scripture, you can be sure that in your everyday life, you are still bowing your heart to idols.

But God not only cares about who we worship, but how. That is why the First Commandment, dealing with who (no other gods before me), is immediately by the Second Commandment, dealing with how (no graven images). We often miss the point of that Second Commandment. A graven image was a means by which man worshiped God on man's own terms. It harkens back to the leaves with which Adam and Eve attempted to cover themselves, or the fruits of the field that self-righteous Cain offered to God. Sinners attempt to come to God on their own terms, and inevitably, God disapproves. God cares about how He's worshiped, or to put it another way, our holy God cares about how sinners relate to Him.

This is why God consumes Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, with fire in Leviticus 10. It is not simply a matter of disobeying God by offering unauthorized fire upon His altar, but by violating His commandment to worship Him upon His own terms. After destroying Nadab and Abihu, God reminded Aaron, "Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified" (Leviticus 10:3).

That is why those in the Reformed tradition of the Christian faith speak of the "Regulative Principle of Worship" (or, the RPW). We believe the Christian is free from a good many things (the guilt of sin, condemnation, non-biblical binding of conscience, etc) and that the Christian is free to do a good many things (i.e., approach the throne of grace with boldness and confidence). But we do not believe that the Christian is free to worship God just however he wants.

Consider it this way--my wife would not approve of my expressing my love to her however I want, without regard for her preferences. This is why the whole Five Love Languages thing became so popular--people often express and understand love differently. I could bring flowers to my wife every day, but if flowers don't mean much to her, but acts of service do, am I truly loving my wife with those flowers? Nope.

God lays down certain broad principles for His worship. It is to be on the Lord's Day (Sunday) and the reading and preaching of the Word is the central part of His worship (Acts 2; Rom. 10; 2 Tim. 4). The preaching of the Word should naturally have Christ as its focal point (Luke 24; all of Hebrews). There should be baptism and the Lord's Supper (Matt. 28; 1 Cor. 11), songs of praise (Col. 2), and prayer (1 Tim. 2). Beyond some of these broad principles, God doesn't really get down in the weeds. He doesn't tell us what time of the day to have worship services, nor the instrumentation for our singing.

But the lover of our souls cares about how we relate to Him. It is thus the responsibility of the officers of the Church to sanctify His Name as they call His people to worship, ultimately with the wonderful goal of seeing God's Name glorified by His people.

And worshiping on God's terms should naturally change the way in which we approach our weekly worship services. We go, not with the thought of what will bring us pleasure, but what will bring Him pleasure. As C.S. Lewis pointed out in Surprised by Joy, we will never find joy if it is joy we pursue. When we pursue the God of glory, it is then that we will find our enjoyment in Him.

The final, joyful note concerning God's worship is this: Though we will never worship God in Spirit and truth as we ought, we worship through a Savior who worshiped God perfectly in our place. Instead of trembling, sinful hands carrying insufficient sacrifices before a holy God, Christ, with unblemished hands, made Himself the sacrifice and was consumed in our place (Heb. 10).

So we approach God in worship, not with fear and trembling, but with gratitude. Let us then get over ourselves and love our God in the way He manner in which He chooses. When His name is sanctified (set apart), it will also be glorified. And in His glory, we will find our greatest joy.