Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and the Problem of Evil

Certain passages haunt. Some books are remembered for first lines or opening paragraphs. You’ve invariably heard many people quote the first line of Melville’s Moby Dick. A perennial quotable is the first paragraph of Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. Others often sample soliloquies from some of Shakespeare’s plays. But some novels are filled with certain passages that haunt. One cannot shake them. Why? It’s because they make the universal concrete and particular. They capture the soul’s longings. Faulkner said the best writers write about “the human heart in conflict with itself.” One of my professors from many years ago taught us that the best writers of literature dealt with the “imaginative concretization of universal themes.” Sound too sophisticated? It’s not. The bottom line is that the best writers capture what it is to be human and to wrestle with God, with one another, with death, with love and heartbreak, with friendship and loneliness, with ourselves. For me, McCarthy’s The Road exemplifies many passages that I’d rate alongside certain works of Shakespeare, Milton, and T.S. Eliot. Soth-1 much has been written about McCarthy’s fiction, and about The Road in particular, that I’m almost loath to comment further, but as I wrote above, certain passages haunt. The question that concerns me is this: Have we followed the logic of how we answer the questions the passage raises? It’s a passage dealing with ultimate issues of God, evil, and meaning.

Here is the context: A father and son are laboring to survive. The adjective used so often to describe The Road is “postapocalyptic.” There has been some kind of catastrophe or series of catastrophes. The sky is gray. The normal means of technology are gone. The few survivors are reduced to primitive scavenging and foraging. A father and son speak cryptically about their ominous and precarious state. The son begins the conversation:

 

Can I ask you something?

Yes. Of course you can.

What would you do if I died?

If you died I would want to die too.

So you could be with me?

Yes. So I could be with you.

Okay.

He lay listening to the water drip in the woods. Bedrock, this. The cold and the silence. The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void. Carried forth and scattered and carried forth again. Everything uncoupled from its shoring. Unsupported in the ashen air. Sustained by a breath, trembling and brief. If only my heart were stone.

He woke before dawn and watched the gray day break. Slow and half opaque. He rose while the boy slept and pulled on his shoes and wrapped in his blanket he walked out through the trees. He descended into a gryke in the stone and there he crouched coughing and he coughed for a long time. Then he just knelt in the ashes. He raised his face to the paling day. Are you there? He whispered. Will I see you at the last? Have you a neck by which to throttle you? Have you a heart? Damn you eternally have you a soul? Oh God, he whispered. Oh God. (11-12)

 

No quotation marks. Just naked emotion in staccato questions and answers between a boy and his father. Do we sense the love, the sacrifice the father has for the son, and vice versa? If there were separation, it’d be better to die.

Then the father is apart from the son in the next narrative paragraph and he (the father) petitions God. I don’t see how the context could read otherwise. Observe the imagery and language. Ashes, cold, silence, opaqueness, a cycle of tragedy (Eccl. 1). Their tragic life is a breath (Job 7:7: Ps 144:4). The father almost curses and yet petitions the God he’s not sure exists. This is sublimity.

Who does this remind us of? Job. He endured unimaginable suffering (deaths of his entire family; loss of his wealth and property; flawed counsel from his friends; boils on his skin; and apparent abandonment by God). And yet.

I have read The Road several times and yet I’m reading it again. Why? Because I think McCarthy puts his finger on the problem of evil, but does not preach the answer. He leaves it to astute readers to follow the logical outflow of their worldview.

Evil is unexplainable in a naturalistic worldview (where all that exists is material). Simply put, there is no answer in a secular/naturalistic worldview to the problem of evil. In fact, evil is not (for the materialist) a real thing.

In the biblical worldview, evil is real but explainable. Suffering is real, but explainable. Man’s tragic state is real, but explainable. The Fall was real, but so is God. The father in McCarthy’s The Road sacrifices himself, as it were, for his son. The son is left on his own to seek whomever else might be “good.”

In the biblical worldview, however, the triune God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) sent the Son for the world. Rather than a father who petitions a (silent?) heaven for answers, history records that God sent forth his Son to seek and save the lost. Tragedy is not the necessary endgame. Tragedy can lead us to look up and see that Jacob’s ladder has been extended (Gen 28:12; Jn 1:51) and trod upon by the Son. And rather than tragedy, redemption. The road ends, in the biblical worldview, in restoration.

 

 

Five Books and a Question

“There are two types of books,” my professor said, “those of the hour and those for all time.” Thus said one of my favorite professors of literature as we met in his office one afternoon and discussed what we were reading and what we wanted to read. That conversation happenth-2ed over twenty years ago. I doubt Dr. N. even remembers it, but I have kept his words in mind.

He gave me a copy of Donleavy’s The Ginger Man and told me that I might enjoy it (I’d been trying to get through Joyce’s Ulysses at the time—a sort of literary rite of passage). I still have the copy of Donleavy’s novel and have not gotten to it. But I will. There’s just so much to read and it can be difficult to know how to divide one’s time wisely.

It’s common to make resolutions for the upcoming year. However, there is at least as much value (perhaps more value) in looking back—especially upon one’s reading. Reflecting upon history (one’s own, as well as the larger context and flow of worldviews) enables perspective that prognosticating may occlude. For fellow readers, you understand the joy of revisiting your books. In 2015, I did not read as many as is my custom. However, below are five volumes I particularly enjoyed and have wrestled with. I revisit each and ask myself what idea(s) remain after having gone through them. I welcome your reflections and recommendations of books you have found worthy of the effort. The titles listed are not in any particular order or preference.

  • Parables: The Mysteries of God’s Kingdom Revealed through the Stories Jesus Told by John MacArthur. This was the most recent book I completed. MacArthur is of course a Greek scholar, prolific writer and longtime pastor of Grace Community Church. True to MacArthur’s style, he deals relentlessly with the text of Scripture and focuses on the single meaning of each of Jesus’ parables. The book is an excellent return to the authority of the Bible amidst the melee that is endemic in literary criticism. MacArthur writes: “Jesus’ parables had a clear twofold purpose: They hid the truth from self-righteous or self-satisfied people who fancied themselves too sophisticated to learn from Him, while the same parables revealed truth to eager souls with childlike faith—those who were hungering and thirsting for righteousness.” Near the end of the book, MacArthur concludes with a restatement of his thesis:

Because truth itself is critically important, and the church today is in imminent danger of selling her birthright in exchange for a postmodern philosophy that in effect would do away with the very idea of truth.

That is ground we cannot yield. We must be willing to submit our minds to the truth of Scripture, and we must refuse to subject Scripture to whatever theories or speculations happen to be currently popular in the realm of secular philosophy.

  • Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain. The author relies heavily upon surveys of corporate America and academia, and fills much of the book with historical accounts of the value many introverts have brought to civilization. At other times, she puts her finger on cultural trends:

 America had shifted from what the influential cultural historian Warren Susman Called a Culture of Character to a Culture of Personality—and opened up a Pandora’s Box of personal anxieties from which we would never quite recover.

In the Culture of Character, the ideal self was serious, disciplined, and honorable. What counted was not so much the impression one made in public as how one behaved in private. The word personality didn’t exist in English until the eighteenth century, and the idea of “having a good personality” was not widespread until the twentieth.

Cain delineates between extroverted buzz and introverted depth. She helpfully encourages introverts throughout. Consider the following:

If you like to do things in a slow and steady way, don’t let others make you feel as if you have to race. If you enjoy depth, don’t force yourself to seek breadth. If you prefer single-tasking to multitasking, stick to your guns. Being relatively unmoved by rewards gives you the incalculable power to go your own way. It’s up to you to use that independence to good effect.

  • Pagans in the Pews: How the New Spirituality is Invading Your Home, Church and Community by Peter Jones. Like MacArthur, Jones is a Greek and New Testament scholar. His thesis in the book is that paganism has invaded not just the Western culture, but the church itself. Feminism, liberalism, and monism have invaded many churches. The results are seen in the breakdown of binary distinctions (male and female; Creator and creatures; heterosexuality vs. homosexuality/lesbianism, etc.). Rather than worshiping God alone, man has descended into self-worship and godless humanism:

Today atheistic humanism is on the run. The new enemy is a spiritualized view of man. He is no longer simply the measure of all things, as rationalism maintained: Man is now also the measure of God, for man is God. This new spirituality is the final expression of idolatry because it is not just disobedience of God’s laws: It replaces the divine with the human.

Dr. Jones’ terms of One-ism (all is one/pantheism/monism) and Two-ism (God and His creation are separate; Creator and His creatures/creation; binary; dualism) help to illustrate Paul’s words in Romans 1—namely, that the essence of human sin is evidenced in our behavior. We “[exchange] the truth about God for a lie and [worship] and [serve] the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.” (Rom 1:25 ESV)

  • Still the Best Hope by Dennis Prager. I heard Prager on talk radio one day a few years back. He referred to his belief in “ethical monotheism.” I could tell from that phrase that he was someone I needed to research. I bought some of his books, but this one is (in my view) his best. The thesis in his books, this one in particular, is straightforward: Leftism demonstrably fails because it starts with the wrong assumptions about human nature and about God.

 

One of the most helpful things Prager illustrates in the book comes in the addendum, wherein he lays out the differences between Leftism vs. Conservative values. Below is just a small sampling of his charts:

  Conservative Values Liberal/Left Values
The State Small Large
Source of Moral Standards American & Judeo-Christian values Individual consciences, the heart, science
Attitude toward Wealth Create more Redistribute
Morality Universal Relative (to individual/and/or Society
Primary Sources of Evil The individual and the state Socioeconomic forces
Humanity’s Primary Division Good/evil Rich/poor; strong/weak

 

  • Fool’s Talk: Recovering the Art of Christian Persuasion by Os Guinness. I’m unashamedly an admirer of Guinness’ work, but I especially enjoyed this volume because I think he’s quite sober and winsome when dealing with the issue of how to deal with skeptics of the Christian worldview, especially if detractors are steeped in postmodernism, multiculturalism, pluralism, relativism, etc. Consider the following from Guinness:

What it means is that Christian advocacy must always be independent. It must always be consistent to itself and shaped decisively by the great truths of the Scriptures, and in particular by five central truths of the faith—creation, the fall, the incarnation, the cross, and the Spirit of God.

I did not even comment on my favorite non-fiction books I read in 2015, Nancy Pearcey’s Finding Truth: 5 Principles for Unmasking Atheism, Secularism, and Other God Substitutes and Michael Walsh’s The Devil’s Pleasure Palace: The Cult of Critical Theory and the Subversion of the West. In my view, those books are so important, they deserve their own articles.

So, did I learn from my former professor’s counsel, about books being divisible between those of the hour and those of all time? Did I make wise reading choices? Admittedly, I did not include the fiction, drama, poetry, or biographies I read in 2015, but these were some volumes I particularly appreciated.

Peace? Yes, but Not on Man’s Terms

“There is no peace,” says the LORD,  “for the wicked” (Isaiah 48:22 ESV) What… no peace? But why? In recent years, Americans were promised hope and change. We even heard of a “fundamental transformation of America.” How are you enjoying the changes and fundamental transformations? Do you hope for more of the same? Is it working out?

Do we have “peace in our time”? Do websites blaze headlines of peace? Racism has ended. All lives matter (even babies’ lives still in the womb), right? All worldviews are equal, right? We can, as the sentimental bumper stickers tout, coexist, right? No peace for the wicked.

In the 19th century, liberal heterodox theologian Adolf von Harnack wrote of the universal fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. He died in 1930. I wonder how he’d rate the 85 years of man’s brotherhood since he died. By every history book I’ve read on the last 3,000 years, the 20th century was the bloodiest since the genesis of written history. No peace for the wicked.

And yet Christ came for the ungodly.  “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly” (Rom 5:6). He came for those with ears to hear the gospel of…peace. th-1

I was reading through lyrics to Longfellow’s “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” which read:

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day/Their old familiar carols play,/And wild and sweet the words repeat/Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I grew up amidst the singing of this song each Christmas season but never thought through the words. Introverted as I was, especially as an adolescent, I loved my family deeply but saw through the rubber band smiles we all flashed during the holiday gatherings. We acted as if we were this joyful all the time. But we all knew otherwise. I didn’t want to state the obvious because it might shatter the facades.

My mother had a beautiful voice and we were never far from a song. Each year, we gathered at my grandparents’ home in middle GA Christmas afternoons, Granddaddy would have Mom lead us all in singing Christmas carols before opening some gifts we’d placed under the Christmas tree in the living room. The refrain that ran through yuletide carols? Peace. For a brief moment of time, we sang and fellowshipped with one another, and we broke bread around the table, and it seemed as if there were peace outside. But there wasn’t. And there isn’t.

Longfellow’s poem acknowledges the same truth:

And in despair I bowed my head:/”There is no peace on earth,” I said,/“For hate is strong and mocks the song/Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Do we dare to be honest? There never will be true peace until we wicked are reconciled to God and each other through Christ. Because our sin justly merits God’s wrath, we’re naturally at enmity with God. But for those who are redeemed via repentance and faith in Christ alone, their status is forever changed. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ” (Eph 2:5). The result? Peace. Supernatural, not natural, peace. “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom 5:1).

If we celebrate Christmas this year, will we have the intellectual integrity to acknowledge the historical record of Jesus–the Christ? Secularists want to rename Christmas trees “holiday trees.” Secularists have renamed Christmas holidays “Winter break.” Secularists have renamed Easter holidays “Spring break.” These are symptoms of humanistic efforts to establish peace on earth. And they fail—always.

Secular and humanistic worldviews want the redeemed to be quiet and to go away nicely. Wouldn’t it be nicer for the redeemed to be like tasteless salt—harmless, ineffective, irrelevant, and good to trample underfoot? That poses no threat to secularists’ political power. Yet Christ calls those who are His to something very different—namely, to proclaim this message: “For our sake he [God the Father] made him [God the Son/Jesus] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him [Jesus] we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor 5:21). The result? Peace.

It’s not Christians who are renaming history in efforts to erase people’s history. Secularists are doing that…with vitriol and through gritted teeth. What does that tell you about the “peace” they talk about?

What if, instead, some people had ears receptive to the good news of Christ the Lord, about God incarnate in Jesus? That would be cause for celebration, such that even the stones might be made to shout, would it not?

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction” (Pr 1:7). Instead of trying to remove any vestiges of Christ, the gospel, Christianity, or holy days (now holidays), might we dare to recognize and even proclaim truth?

Peace is possible, but not through any means except Christ’s work. Secularism won’t do it; manmade treaties won’t do it; acquiescence won’t do it; pietism won’t do it.

Longfellow’s poem ends with these lines:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till, ringing singing, on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Cowards abound and fair-weather prophets have larger crowds, but truth is worth it.

Merry Christmas.

If Only

If only. If only we had different political leaders. If only we had a conservative. Ith-1f only we had godly leaders. If only our side was in power. If only we had leaders who followed the Constitution. If only. Are you tempted to think and/or mutter thoughts like these? I am, but I hope that I’m learning better—and not from earning more degrees or anything like that. I’m learning that leadership begins at home. We are quick to expect more of our leaders than we do of ourselves. In 62-63 A.D. the apostle Peter wrote to Christians enduring persecution in the 1st century, encouraging them with this truth: a godly life is the best example to an ungodly world, but that is only possible if God changes our hearts/wills from the inside. External political systems cannot reform the idolatrous heart. “For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor.” (1 Peter 2:15-17, ESV)

If only was not the argument Peter wrote Christians should embrace about the culture that was persecuting, and sometimes murdering, them. Peter was to be martyred under Nero’s reign for his Christian witness. His letters were not platitudes. He knew what he and other believers were up against.

In sum, 1st century Christians were up against what many Christians are up against today: anger, bellicosity, and vitriol. We’re living in a day of spiritual road rage. One writer has even written an entire book (A Bee in the Mouth: Anger in America Today) on the subject of how acrimony and bitterness characterize much of public discourse.

Classrooms now are characterized by sound bites instead of reasoned argument. Depth has been evicted. In most colleges and universities, neither students nor teachers read the classics. Shakespeare, Milton, and Chaucer are now branded misogynists and bigots. When I went by my alma mater a few years ago to see some of my former graduate school professors of literature, I discovered that English majors could now earn degrees in literature and writing without taking courses in Shakespeare, Chaucer, Milton, or even Greek and Roman literature. English majors are now schooled in multiculturalism, women’s studies, gender studies, and black studies. My temptation? To mutter to myself, if only.

Earlier this week, I was able to sit down with one of our children. We were reading one of his books together entitled Farmer Boy. It’s a wonderful narrative of 19th century America on a farm in rural New York. The protagonist is named Almanzo, and he’s a typical 9-year-old boy. He likes candies more than vegetables. He likes to play in the barn loft more than to shock wheat. He enjoys irritating his older sister more than he does listening to her counsel.

As we read together, my son asked me, “Dad, why did Almanzo’s sister get him out of trouble like that? I mean, Almanzo threw a paint brush and made a mess in their mom’s favorite room.” I said, “I know. It’s because she loved him. She knew he’d done wrong, but their family was more important than for her to seek justice by telling on him.” My son looked at me and I could see the genesis of understanding in his eyes. He began to see how “love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8). I almost thought for a minute that he was going to say, “If only we were more like that.”

It’s fashionable and “progressive” nowadays to scoff at old ways. Even modern parlance reflects how patronizing today’s culture is when talking about previous ideas. Phrases like “old school” and “Back in the day” abound. However, Scripture admonishes us to remember those who came before us and to reflect on why boundaries were erected in the first place: “Do not move the ancient landmark that your fathers have set” (Proverbs 22:28). If only we had a more humble and accurate assessment of our places in the world.

In politics, blood boils. Ratings go to the person with the brashest insults. If you shock the audience by virtue of your acerbic tongue, you win the poll. However, might we not be better served if cool heads prevailed? If only.

An acquaintance of mine wrote me some time back something to this effect: he does not have hope for leadership on the macro level. If there is to be any moral and spiritual resuscitation, it will be from the micro level. I think he is mostly correct. However, I would add this caveat: a godly life is the best example to an ungodly world, but that is only possible if God changes our hearts/wills from the inside. External political systems cannot reform the idolatrous heart. The if only that we’re all tempted to think, if not say, must begin in our homes, made possible through divine regeneration and sanctification.

 

Thanksgiving, a Pop Song by the Police, and Your Mind: Worldview in Microcosm

“When the world is running down/You make the best of what’s still around.” That’s the refrain in a pop song from a very popular band, The Police. That line reveals a lot about the theology and worldview expressed in the tune of the same name. This week, many Americans will celebratthe Thanksgiving. What Americans believe about God will be evidenced in what we do/don’t do this week. Will we pray or not? Will we express thankfulness? To whom? To ourselves? To our predecessors? To our nation? Our military? Why? These questions go to the heart of the matter. If we are thankful, does that thankfulness not assume there is someone to whom to be thankful? It personalizes the act of thanksgiving. Ought we to be thankful to someone? How you answer that question reveals much. Ought implies a moral imperative. It is a way of saying, there is a right standard, a way man ought to follow. But we’re in a day when many will gather together and be at a loss as to whom they should thank. In other words, they’re cut off from the author of life (God), the only One to whom we ought to be supremely grateful.

Antithesis. Literally, the term means “against/opposed to another argument/idea.” Does that sound too sophisticated of a term? I hope not. It’s simple. In informal language, it’s the other side of the coin. It’s a way of saying this vs. that. This way, not that way. God or Satan. Good vs. evil. Justice vs. injustice. Truth vs. lies.

Antithesis is a mark of thinking. Thinking conceptually is predicated upon one’s thinking via antithesis. In other words, the person who cannot make distinctions cannot properly be said to be thinking conceptually. Here’s the upshot: either we’re in a theistic world (where God is sovereign Creator and we’re His creatures) or we’re not. It’s one or the other. Either we are to thank the God who is, who has spoken, who upholds all things by His sovereign power, or we are cosmic accidents who cannot even begin to explain why things exist, why we’re here, why morality is not an illusion, or how nothing gave rise to everything, all the while undirected.

What does that have to do with Thanksgiving? A lot. Ever had this experience? A family gathers in the kitchen or dining room, and someone is called on to offer a prayer of thanksgiving. But do we think about that? Whom are we thanking? It does not make sense to thank randomness/chaos/nothingness. Are our talents our own? Is our strength our own? Is our wealth our own? Our health? Are we in control of seedtime and harvest? Did we control the gifts of our children?

This is just where we need to understand antithesis. If we do not come to terms with the concept of giving thanks, we are eschewing intellectual courage and honesty. This morning, I listened to a fine sermon by my pastor from Psalm 16. It was about, among other things, how believers recognize that we have no ultimate good apart from God. David wrote, “Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge. I say to the LORD, “Your are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.” (Psalm 16:1-2, ESV). David recognized that he was to thank God. Why? Because God is the author of life; God is the fount of blessing. In short, life without God is unthinkable. This is the perfect example of why it’s crucial for us to think via antithesis. Either God or an idol. God or Baal/idolatry. Theism or atheism. Pushed logically, how can the atheist justify being thankful, if he/she believes he came into being accidentally, cannot explain purpose, meaning, or origins? Why ought the atheist be thankful if there’s no one to thank?

Was Sting right? If the world is running down, should we just try to make the best of what’s still around? That’s pretty sad. What would it take for you to consider that the reason the world is running down is because we live this side of Genesis 3? What if this world is running down because we are moral rebels from God, trying to cover our sin? What if the world is running down because the whole creation is groaning from shaking its fist in the face of the God who loves the creation enough to take on flesh and come for all who will repent and believe upon Jesus?

The antithesis is this: either God is, and we ought to honor Him as such or we’re on our own, and the jig is up. Either God has spoken through creation, through Scripture, through conscience, through design, and through Christ and His resurrection, or He hasn’t.

The apogee of this antithesis finds many illustrations in literature, but perhaps none is more familiar than Macbeth’s lines: “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player/That struts and frets his hour upon the stage/And then is heard no more. It is a tale/Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury/Signifying nothing” (5.5.25-28).

Is life (is your life) a tapestry woven by God or a tale told by an idiot? This is why thinking antithetically is crucial. Let us think with honesty, with logical consistency, with humility, but let us think and then act with conviction. And, yes, Happy Thanksgiving.

What Will It Take?

images

Paris’ 9/11? November nightmare? What do you think Friday’s murders in Paris by (yet again) Islamic terrorists will be called? Perhaps it’ll be called Europe’s wakeup. I don’t know what historians will call Friday’s massacre but I do know that it matters how we speak of things. Because of political correctness, certain people will not call Islamic terror what it is. Because of Leftist policies, certain people will not call Islamic terror what it is. It may be harder now for sentimentalists to pretend we can “coexist” with those who open up with weapons, screaming, “Allah(u) Akbar!” and murdering crowds of civilians.

Perhaps because America is nearing a season where voters will elect a new president, words are many and actions are few. I’m waiting for Leftists to say that France needed more gun control. After all, the Islamic terrorists would have been prevented from murdering hundreds of civilians if law-abiding French citizens had been deprived of protecting themselves. So goes thinking for Leftists. It’s sad to see that we’re almost numb to the massacres that occur with increasing frequency nowadays. Roll out the teleprompters and brace yourselves for more speeches. I can hear the pundits now: “Our hearts and prayers are with Paris…” Words, words, words. Pundits and politicians will pontificate and blood will continue to spill. What will it take?

What will it take to wake us to the war that is here? Speaking just for my little life, I hear this so often: “Well, God is still in control.” But when I hear that, it is said with a sort of melancholy defeatist air. I don’t know who the speakers are trying to convince. Yes, absolutely, I believe that God is in control. However, recognizing that God is in control is not a call to pacifism in the face of evil. Will that be your rejoinder when evil comes to your door? Are you going to roll over, turn over your family, and say, cavalierly, “Well, God is still in control”?
What if there’s a movement afoot to use Islamic terror as a means of disarming law-abiding citizenry and growing the government to such a degree that the government, rather than being the protector of citizens, is the threat to liberty? What will it take to get us to examine trees by their fruit? What will it take for thinking people to see through platitudinous speech and examine historical facts?

Few of us have to push our worldviews to their logical conclusions. Some folks know more about a coffee company’s lack of Christmas-themed sleeves on coffee cups than they do about worldviews. Paris is under curfew due to Islamic murder, folks, and it’s less than 48 hours old. When evil comes knocking at your door, will we look to pundits reading from teleprompters for solace? What will it take? Will some people resolve to combat evil with good? Will some of us rise and count the costs?

Let us be reasonable. Vigilantism is foolhardy. “Without counsel plans fail, but with many advisers they succeed” (Proverbs 15:22, ESV). Wisdom and discernment are inseparable: “Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety” (Proverbs 11:14, ESV).
Have you ever stopped to ask why God has continually called out warriors throughout history? Moses, given to a temper, was used by God to serve as a leading warrior for Israel’s exodus from pagan Egypt. Joshua was used by God to destroy pagan cults in the ancient Near East and call Israel to covenant fidelity in the 1300s B.C. Samson, another deeply-flawed sinner, was used by God as a judge upon Philistine paganism in the 1200s B.C. Gideon was raised up by God to defeat the Midianites. David, old covenant Israel’s greatest king, was a warrior. He led by example. Deeply flawed? Yes (cf. Psalm 51). But repentant? Yes (cf. Psalm 51). Jephthah, Samuel, and on and on it goes, were men called out to battle. Could God have destroyed everyone and made an end of the mess? Yes, absolutely. Yet he instead called out warriors to combat evil. Why? I cannot know more than what has been revealed (Deuteronomy 29:29) but I would suggest it is one of God’s ways of leading people to repentance. Paul writes that God’s kindness “is meant to lead [us] to repentance” (Romans 2:4, ESV).

What will it take for the world to wake up to the war at our doorsteps? Historically, the church has made two errors. One is quietism/pietism. That is, believers opt to remove themselves from the fight. They retreat into pacifism in the face of evil. The other error is dominionism, where, again, the church misunderstands its role. Instead of recognizing that the church is to call sinners to repent and look to Christ, they look to establish God’s kingdom in this world through political means. (This is what Islam does; it mandates submission. This is in complete opposition to biblical Christianity, which always recognizes that genuine heart change is wrought by the Holy Spirit, not by the sword.) That’s why Jesus warned us in the New Testament, “ . . . My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world” (John 18:36, ESV).

What will it take? Peter wrote that governments are supposed to “punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good” (1 Peter 2:14, ESV). But what happens when that does not happen? The question is rhetorical. We are witnessing what happens when we retreat in the face of evil. Evil wins; blood flows; pundits talk; people die. What will it take?

By no means a Christian, the Irish poet, William Butler Yeats, wrote in “The Second Coming” these words:
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

 

What will it take? We are closer than ever to finding out.

Moral Breakdown or the Gospel?

This week, some of my family and I took a road trip. During some of the long hours on the highway, we tuned in to some talk radio. As observant citizens know, there is no lack of disturbiurlng headlines. First, a female student at Spring Valley High School in SC was so defiant in class that the police were called to deal with her. Let that sink in. Classroom misbehavior in the government-run school system has reached such lows that police are necessary. That’s how much is tolerated in a culture given over to eschewing personal responsibility. If that’s insufficient, now the student has raised nearly $50,000 via an internet fundraising maneuver. See the tragic paradox? Students who were doing their work, obeying the rules, and even being (ready for this?) self-disciplined are not the protagonists. Nope, they are invisible. The one who gets the attention is the rebel, the defiant, and the one whose behavior is so bad that police have to be called. And nourl-1w she’s making money. We’re amidst moral breakdown. Most people reject the diagnosis that we are all sinners in thought, word, and deed. Most people reject the only remedy—namely, repentance and faith in the gospel. And the moral breakdown continues.

Secondly, Obama spearheaded the release of over 6,000 felons from federal prison this week. Drug dealers were released into America’s neighborhoods at the behest of a nation’s president. Do you think politics might be involved? Do you think class warfare might be involved? Do you think that this decision is consistent with a particular worldview? Should we just wink at evil? Perhaps we can self-reform? If you think the release of felons by executive fiat is wise, will you open your home to these felons? Will you take them in? Perhaps you are looking for a babysitter… Folks, what does it take for a people to think clearly? We’re amidst moral breakdown. Most people reject the diagnosis that we are all sinners in thought, word, and deed. Most people reject the only remedy—namely, repentance and faith in the gospel. And the moralbreakdown continues.

Thirdly, Mattel (the toy maker) may be about to do away with distinctive toys for boys and girls. G.I. Joe is now thought to be sexist. And Barbie dolls are sexist, too. The Left’s solution? Do away with gender-specific toys. Rather than admit that boys and girls are different and complementary, create unisex toys. That’s the lesson Leftists want to teach your children. Do you think a worldview denying the imago dei (the image of God as revealed in Scripture) might be involved here? Do you see what happens when people refuse to acknowledge the obvious? Most people reject the diagnosis that we are all sinners in thought, word, and deed. And most people reject the only remedy—namely, repentance and faith in the gospel. And the moral breakdown continues.

When a nation celebrates villainy but scoffs at repentance, beware. When a nation lauds delinquents but shuns the discerning, beware. When a nation winks at evil and courts nihilism, beware. In a nation where police are mocked and defiance is deified, beware. In a nation where evil is called good and good is called evil, beware. In a nation that refuses to acknowledge that God created us male and female, equally beautiful, equally valuable, complementing one another, beware. Politics is not the solution. Bigger government is not the solution. Political correctness (code speak for silencing free speech) is not the solution. The gospel is the solution.

 

 

Religion and Politics, Part two:

In about a year from now, America will have a new president, and the differences between political parties and worldviews could not be clearer. Many Leftists/liberalimgress/Democrats are calling for more government, more taxes, the redistribution of wealth, political correctness, and socialized health care. Conservatives/Republicans are calling for less government, lower taxes, wealth creation via private enterprise, freedom from political correctness, and free market competition in health care.

I was born in the late 1960s, so I didn’t really begin to understand political worldviews, or take much of an interest in government, until high school. Then I was working my first real jobs, where I’d look at an actual paystub. I learned the hard way about taxes. Federal, state, and local taxes were taken out. Social security taxes were taken out. Insurance costs, etc. I learned, painfully, about the difference between gross and net income. And I learned that the way voters thought (the worldviews) affected the ways they voted.

Several weeks ago, I wrote about how Christians should vote. Specifically, my concern was the question of criteria. What parameters should Christians bring to bear upon the ballot box? A few fundamentals I suggested included character, the sanctity of human life, and respect for the U.S. Constitution.

Now that we have witnessed the Leftists debate (Hillary Clinton, Martin O’Malley, and Bernie Sanders) their worldviews are quite similar. Homosexual rights (sexuality now is akin to one’s race in Leftism; it can even be changed); women should be able to abort their babies at any time they want; wealthy individuals and their companies should be taxed as punishment for their success; more taxes should be levied from working Americans; climate change (it used to be called “global warming”) is crouching at the door of the planet if we don’t leave off using fossil fuels; Islamic terrorists will somehow quit slaughtering the non-Islamic world if we just have more meetings; and America does not really need to enforce current immigration laws. We don’t need borders, after all, as that could hurt people’s feelings. Borders might suggest that we’re a nation of laws. And of course, only certain lives matter. Cops’ lives apparently don’t matter as much as other lives.

We’ve also witnessed the conservatives/Republicans debate. They, too, dovetailed in many areas. Strong national defense, the sanctity of life, traditional marriage, immigration policies should be enforced, as their lack of enforcement undermines the very essence of law and the U.S. Constitution; lower taxes; Islamic terror should be defeated, not placated; and all lives matter. As to “climate change,” they agree that the science is anything but monolithic in demonstrating man’s impact upon the planet; therefore, we should research clean energy, but not cripple the world’s engines that run on fossil fuels.

There are nuances among both parties and both worldviews, but no honest person can deny the collision of worldviews represented by those on the Left/liberal side of things vs. the Right/conservative side. I do not know of a more polarized time in our culture than what we’re witnessing.

Has America been “fundamentally transformed”? If you had told me as a boy that in my lifetime, women would marry women, I would have been incredulous. If you had told me that men would be vying for legal sanction to marry boys (yes, it’s true), I would not have believed you. If you had told me that the U.S. Capitol would have been lit in celebration of the nation’s Supreme Court legalizing what has always been deemed abominable, I would have said you were in jest.

But I would have been wrong. Polygamy, pederasty, fluid gender identity, etc. are all in the cultural discussion today. Infanticide and Planned Parenthood videos don’t even shock us into repentance. What does that say about the worldviews some of these candidates have?

I hope to vote for righteousness next year, but I submit to you that all worldviews are not the same. May we at least be honest enough about the worldviews at stake.

Oft-quoted but Seldom Understood

Who are you to judge? The most abused verse in the Bible may be “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matthew 7:1 ESV). Even people who kimgres-1now next to nothing of Scripture spew this verse as a quip aimed to terminate discussion. We rarely hear this verse taught in context. What usually happens is instead a person is failing to make a cogent and/or coherent argument for his position. He does not want to offend or seem hateful. He wants to be tolerant of even the most inane people or ideas. He wants to be loving and respectful. And this one verse surfaces like a reflex. It is viewed as a way of assuaging one’s own conscience and mollifying those with whom you disagree. It is used as a kinder and gentler way of saying, “Well, I wouldn’t live my life that way, but it’s not really for me to say the other person is wrong.”

 

This one verse, decontextualized, is a specious quote cloaking flawed logic in the guise of love. After it’s quoted, the unspoken assumption is that everyone is supposed to sit back, shake his head, and agree to disagree. The desired result of many who rip this verse from its larger context is a sentimental, “I’m okay; you’re okay.”

 

May I suggest two things? One, Jesus did not condemn judging. He condemned sanctimoniousness. He condemned us when we neglect judging ourselves with right judgment. In the same discourse, Jesus commands us to judge: “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves” (Matthew 7:13-15 ESV). Second, if you or I cease to judge, we cease to think. Solipsism and insanity result.

 

Narrow versus broad? Yes. False prophets? Yes. Ravenous wolves? Yes. How do we know? By judging with right judgment. Jesus also taught, “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment” (John 7:24 ESV). When’s the last time you heard that verse? Judging is commanded and commended.

 

Judging is unavoidable for rational creatures. You judge whom to befriend; you judge whom to marry; you judge your children’s character and behavior (character’s extension); you judge in politics. “Open your mouth, judge righteously” (Proverbs 31:9a ESV). Failing to judge is the end of rationality. Judge rightly.

The Death of Appreciation?

Very recently, I led another memorial service for an 84-year old Army veteran of the wars in Korea and Vietnam. The man had been a sergeant major (SGM) when he retired. He continued his service as a defense contractor upon retiring from the military. In the last chapter of his life, he moved near Ft. Benning, GA to be near a longtime friend under whom he’d served as a first sergeant (1SG) during the early 1970s. He spent his last years deer hunting in west Georgia. Finally, the cancer he’d battled for years conquered his body, and he died. When I spoke at his memorial, and before we committed his asheist2-4686483-word-death-on-paper-and-broken-pencil-in-hands to the ground, most of the chairs on the rostrum were vacant. Most people did not know or care of this man’s passing. As I read Scripture, prayed, and consoled a couple of his friends, I had an overwhelming sense that there were multiple deaths at hand. We were not just marking theimgres-1 passing of another veteran’s life. I was witnessing in microcosm a culture that chooses to forget what is praiseworthy. What/whom one generation fails to honor, thenext generation will forget altogether.

People are busy, I understand. No one can be more than one place at a time, I understand. However, I fear that there’s a sense of callousness in our culture today towards almost everything once viewed with honor. What was heretofore praiseworthy is now neglected or even mocked. It is as if many people’s consciences are seared. But should we not laud that which is praiseworthy, when it’s in our power to do so? What does it say about a culture that forsakes its warriors? What does it reveal about us when we inventory what fills our time? What/whom one generation fails to honor, the next generation will forget altogether.

Nothing quite diagnoses a culture’s ethos as clearly as seeing what it worships. Man becomes like what he worships. But what does it mean when many worship at the altar of self, or at the altars of what Francis Schaeffer called personal peace and affluence? In other words, are we now so self-absorbed that we fail to recognize the passing of those that lived lives of sacrifice, courage, and honor? Are we so taken with our conveniences that we cannot think of those who gave of themselves for the greater good? Some of the deepest lessons I have learned come from times I’ve spent in cemeteries. They are among the quietest places on earth. You can hear yourself think. As you survey the tombstones, the mausoleums, the white markers, you relearn that this life is passing. You learn that man is a vapor. You learn that generations come and go. In Ecclesiastes, Solomon writes: “For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten” (Eccl 2:16a ESV). But Solomon’s thesis in Ecclesiastes was how not to succumb to that. The answer is to look to God, not to oneself alone, not just to our personal peace and affluence, but to recognize that which endures. But I’m suggesting that we are living in a time and culture that largely chooses to neglect what should be appreciated and worships that which should be minimized. The banal has replaced the praiseworthy. What/whom one generation fails to honor, the next generation will forget altogether.

When the apostle Paul was in prison in Rome, he wrote a letter known as Philippians. It’s a short New Testament book about Christ’s humiliation and subsequent exaltation. It’s also a NT book of encouragement. But what I want to focus on here is how he instructs the Philippians in matters of what they should honor, of what they should deem important: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Phil 4:8 ESV). It’s vital to understand what is honorable and praiseworthy, not what our selfishness deems honorable and praiseworthy.

If we want to know what we honor, let us examine how we spend our time. We are not witnessing the death of appreciation; we are witnessing idolatry—the appreciation of the wrong things/ideas/gods/people.