Happy Friday. Is there a huge breath of relief that the weekend is here? I’ve squandered much life focused on theoretical ease awaiting me just around the corner. Living in exhaustion with eyes on the weekend. Like: When the kids get out of diapers, things will be easier. Maybe next summer when the kids are out of school…fall when the kids are back in school. Oh, after the holidays. Then, things will be easier.
Two things: You were made for rest. And you can never stop working, living, trying.
The Jews needed rest from their work because they were trying to achieve salvation through their own strength. If you are coming from the overwhelm of striving, “You are qualified. You are accepted. You can rest.”
But we come from a reference that grace is free—and since we can’t do a thing, I don’t need to do a thing. So, for the remainder of us, I clarify the last paragraph, “God qualifies you. You are accepted but unrepentant sin is not. You can only rest in God’s love, not the work he has for you.”
This post is more for our modern, western retirement culture, coming from our context of entitlement to every luxury and ease.
We definitely need days off to be able to do it again. I’m not talking about all the ways that humans should rest to nourish our bodies, brains and souls. Time spent not bound up in physical labor, stress and worry. I’m talking about a frame of heart where we discard intention and allow atrophy. We coast on previous understanding or previous success and stop trying. Because something that’s been on my mind lately is how we long to reach a point where we’ll be done with all hard things.
We’re not supposed to wear ourselves down in the hustle. We know we’ll never be enough. We just seem to hope that there is this grand retirement from life awaiting. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially. When that retirement happens, things will be easier. Maybe it’s all tied up in some of our interpretation of heaven. Miserable now—heaven is all that matters.
I don’t know what age 85 feels like. Maybe I’ll feel different enough in a few decades to justify sitting down and giving up.
But, I don’t believe you can ever “phone it in” in any area of your life. Not the relationships you want to keep. Not your physical health and the chore of moving your body. Certainly not your wrestling with God.
I was processing this while reading 2 Chronicles 26, so it jumped out at me. Listen to second part of verse 5, “as long as he sought the LORD, God gave him success.” this is about Uzziah, a king of Judah during the days of Zechariah. Then, in verse 16, “but after Uzziah became powerful, his pride lead to his downfall.“ There is a certain truth that if you’ve survived many decades, you’ve acquired the wisdom of survival. But don’t assume that the aged have all the wisdom of the realms. We have to continue seeking new treasure to be able bring out of our storehouse both old and new.
And God does do new things. Just because Solomon or the compiler of Ecclesiastes didn’t observe anything new under the sun doesn’t mean God isn’t capable of generating matter out of nothing. The unchanging God has “different” for each generation, so don’t crush the next generation with what you know that you knew. Be ready to add to your storehouse.
We see it in a number of the kings of the Old Testament. Hezekiah is another example. They start off good, victorious in their youth. Faithless in their age. Even if we start by killing Goliaths, we can end killing Uriahs.
I’m on edge when I read in Kings and Chronicles because it’s basically a list of how all the leaders left the Lord, and how many people died as a result. Most of it is gross, and any victory is short-lived. We tend to press into God in the deserts when we have nothing, in childhood when we know nothing. But as soon as we get a little age, experience, money, success, we move into a lazy pattern of repeating what we did before. Instead of remaining willing to work, curious, humble, and open to wonder and revelation.
I’m (finally) reading something that’s been recommended to me for many years. Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art. And my last blog post might’ve been different if I had already read it. Specifically (in oversimplification) that all “good” art is Christian, and all “bad” art is not, regardless of the label or the salvation status of the creator of said art. I don’t mind a bit of the mystical, because it jives with my understanding of “every good and perfect gift comes down from the father of lights.” Even if it isn’t ordained by your denomination—if it’s good, or true—it’s from God. That’s why you can read fiction that doesn’t have a conversion scene.
Madeline l’Engle touches on why we can never set aside our intention when she reminds us that we have to work to become like a child in approaching God. Jesus assured us that some mystery of childhood is required to enter God’s presence.
“(as I run over my favourite characters in both Old and New Testaments, I can’t find one who was in any worldly way qualified to do the job which was nevertheless accomplished)…In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there’s no danger that we will confuse God’s work with our own, or God’s glory with our own.” (Madeline l’Engle, Walking on Water)
Is there complacency? “I already know God. Check. I found him, so I can stop seeking. The Bible is “clear,” and I already read it—I’m good.” The minute you stop trying, and rest in your qualifications and entitlement, you are no longer a vessel.
A king who started off victorious but, then retired faithless.
Rest, nourish and feed the mortal. But keep your frame of heart full of intention. Don’t allow atrophy. Too much is at stake to retire from living. Remain willing to work, curious, humble, and open to revelation. Forever.
Because even after a lifetime of success, pride can still be a downfall.
I’ve recently and unexpectedly begun desiring to write fiction again. I say unexpectedly because when I published Sworn to the Desert in 2019, I felt like I’d closed a loop. I kept thinking “full circle,” and I felt done. But since I’m hearing voices again I’ve started to consider a few things that have been on my mind since I was first a reader of Christian Fiction, then a writer of Christian Fiction, a writer of a not-safe-for-CBA (at the time) allegory, then a reader of anything but Christian Fiction, and now, a Christian fiction writing again.
So, if I am writing, you probably won’t see many posts here. The opposite is also likely to be true. If I start posting here, I’m not working on my manuscript. Although I do like the timeline of one week from ponder to production, and a novel usually takes me a year. I might just post for the completion reward.
Decades ago, I remember comparing Christian Fiction to romance. I thought since no one would be satisfied by a romance where the couple didn’t “get together” in the end with some sort of consummation of their relationship—a kiss, a declaration, marriage or sex—then a “Christian” story was only satisfyingly resolved with a life turned over to God in the observable snapshot of a sinner’s prayer. Since the right words in the right order irrevocably changed your life, I needed to read them to be sure the one-and-done event happened. It was true love’s kiss.
Granted, that had more to do with my theology at the time than anything else. But today I want to contemplate: who is Christian Fiction for? I’m not going to resolve this. I’m just going to ask some open-ended questions like a shark swirling around ideas, tasting multiple sides by bumping into them. And all of these thoughts could relate to non-religious writers as there are plenty of preachy reads out there, regardless of the writer’s world view.
I won’t explore “what is Christian Fiction?” Whether you can talk about God. Not talk about God. Whether universal truths are allowed if they do or don’t show up in the Bible. I’d rather sit backseat and let the closed-door, no-spice girls work it out, because we have a thriving community here writing what they call bell-pepper reads so the stories won’t cause you to sin.
Even though the question what is Christian Fiction is closely linked, I only want to ask who is it for?
Because writers are supposed to keep their ideal reader in mind when they write. Maybe not in the “outrunning the inner critic, first draft phase“ but at least in the editing phase. This isn’t who you dedicate the book to, or necessarily who pays for the book. But that special niche person who will pick up your book, and it will resonate with them. That is who it’s for. That’s who you keep in mind when you write.
Is the Christian Fiction label just a trigger warning for unbelievers and ex-vangelicals so my brothers and sisters who write can pour their whole-selves in? Phileo, eros and agape without reviewers feeling like it was a bait and switch? See some of the complaints against Theo of Golden like “sneak attack Christian Novel*.”
*I’m not agreeing with that review here.
Should Christian Fiction be a sneak attack? Who doesn’t want to write a cross-over that slays unsuspecting millions with a sickle and makes you rich? Treasure in heaven, check. Treasure on earth, also check.
Could Christian Fiction be for unbelievers? People who have no context for Christianity but want to see what modern American Christians have to say about their faith instead of what haters online profess that Christians believe?
Is Christian Fiction for the spiritually curious? People who want to experience an unknown context? I’ve greatly enjoyed peaking into Hindu and Muslim minds through books. It’s healthy to see beauty in all people, and it’s healthy to read things you don’t agree with—to be OK with it, and to either understand why you don’t agree or to sit in the indecision of it. And I believe most readers are looking to experience something foreign to them, whether it is how to live on Mars, how to survive witchcraft school or Amish courting, and how they make butter.
I once heard a new believer say she read Christian Fiction to understand Christian life. So it could be for someone from a non-religious culture who has zero reference of what following God “should” look like. Sort of a crash course in the cause and effect of prayer, submission to God, and resistance to sin.
Christian Fiction could be for parents to give to their children to show them, “See—it isn’t just our family. Other people in the world think and believe these things.”
But I know from my kids’ experience, one thing they learned from Christian Fiction was that their Testimony Snippet was boring. My young readers were exposed to cutting, extreme dieting and all manner of things they might not have been ready for—with a quick caveat that prayer takes away all the pain. (I know, I know. Teaching your kids to read puts you at the risk of them learning things you didn’t teach them… my bad.)
Is Christian Fiction best used as a confirmation bias tool for adults? Let not pretend we don’t buy material to support what we believe. “We are men of action, lies do not become us.*” Christian Fiction could be used to affirm a reproducible path to the good life. We seek a formula to prevent the effects of evil in the world from touching believers or at least if it does we have a satisfying 300 page play out of “all things working together for good for those who love Christ Jesus and are called according to his purpose.”
*Quote from The Princess Bride
Next is where I want most to challenge and provoke: Christian porn.
Isn’t Christian Fiction used as gratuitous fables for believers? Like the subreddit “earth porn” which shows gorgeous, unearned (you can’t hike that far), high definition imagery of the earth. The pictures you see scrolling across televisions that are for sale. Those are prettier, brighter and clearer than the view would be for the person standing on the mountain in real life.
Just like the Northern Lights can’t be seen by the naked eye—neither can we view color and definition underwater with our human retina like we can with a camera. So, just because we can see something in print, it doesn’t mean it’s exactly accurate.
But as I reconsider, I won’t stop looking at pictures of the ocean depths. And I will still use them to glorify God for the wondrous beauty of creation. What’s wrong with the story-dream version if it somehow increases faith? (I’m pretty sure it’s consensual.) It’s one reason we read any fiction at all: to escape our un-promised reality for a guaranteed payoff.
I guess my overthinking is that when we read about sexy dragon academy we understand that we will not actually get our own chance to create a telepathic mental bond with a flying wyrm, who will protect us with their life, while we save our lover’s kingdom. But something is a little different with Christian Fiction. I think Christian storytelling runs the risk of slipping out of the realm of fantasy for believers who have been trained to take everything literal in the Bible, even allegory. After all, God could do anything.
Instead of celebrating the noteworthy possibility of miracles resulting in love and rescue—we expect the storybook version. But the onus here is on us as the consumer. The one who puts their whole-self in to the story doesn’t have control on how it is interpreted.
Because, like climbing that mountain we saw in a picture, we feel jaded when we see litter, dead and diseased trees, or electricity lines through our itchy-from-allergies, and sweat-dripping-into-eyes lenses… not the edited timelapse panorama with a vibrant filter image that we expected.
Who do you write for
When the voices are talking, they seem to have their own words and often, their own agenda for the plot I prepared. I romanticize writers who confidently write for themselves, or purely for a loved one. Or the bestsellers who say, “I wrote this for you, dear reader.” Though I sometimes picture the reaction of people I know—I wrestle with wondering if it’s ego cutting in front of the first draft by focusing on the future reader or just prudent marketing for the business of writing. What humans, if any, do you want viewing your creative work?
I’ve been told that you are a writer only if you would still write when no one ever read it. There could be creatives out there hiding their contributions but we wouldn’t know, because, well, they’re hiding ‘em. So far, I’ve tried to write books I wanted to read but my insecurity is certain the more I write uncensored for myself—the more content I’ll need to cut later. But no matter what, everyone writes from their paradigm. Whether they write something that’s so entertaining you turn your brain off, or they obtusely slip in their agenda because it’s just too important to them to hold it back in sublety. Inexplicable compulsions to write anyway aside, most of us want to… contribute.
Two things are true again. God created wonders we haven’t yet discovered and may never see, purely for his own enjoyment. We are made in this image, but/and are brought together to share our gifts with each other.
How do you still pour your whole-self in? Phileo, eros and agape. Especially since loved ones might be apathetic toward reading, liked ones might not like it, and strangers edit their reviews if they discover an author’s politics. Who does a Christian author (with or without a conversion scene) write for?
(Long pause here. Because every kid who attended Sunday School will know this is the time to yell out, “Jesus!”)
I know: seek first His kingdom. I know: do all things as unto the Lord. He is number one, I am number two. But it would be insincere to say I’ve completely ascended to either yet. I long for all things that I do to glorify him, and not just because everything else will burn like chaff.
Who do you live for, create for, work for? Likely, it’s complicated, and depends on the day. But it is a good day when you can say it was all for an audience of one without measure of success.
“I choose the appointed time; it is I who judge with equity. When the earth and all its people quake, it is I who hold its pillars firm. To the arrogant I say, ‘Boast no more,’ and to the wicked, ‘Do not lift up your horns. Do not lift your horns against heaven; do not speak so defiantly.’ ”No one from the east or the west or from the desert can exalt themselves. It is God who judges: He brings one down, he exalts another. In the hand of the Lord is a cup full of foaming wine mixed with spices; he pours it out, and all the wicked of the earth drink it down to its very dregs.”” Psalms 75:2-8 (NIV)
“If any man worship the beast and his image, and receive his mark in his forehead, or in his hand, The same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God,” “and great Babylon came in remembrance before God, to give unto her the cup of the wine of the fierceness of his wrath.” Revelation 14:9-10 & Revelation 16:19 (KJV)
Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?
Even though much will be left unsaid, this is the final in the series. I love this picture I found for the post. I am mortal, lifting up scales to an eternal God.
An LDS friend told me her faith believes human souls are waiting in heaven for bodies. Hence, the need for large families, providing the bodies. I don’t know of Protestant faiths that believe their souls originated in heaven. Some believe it sparks to life at conception, but because God breathed life into Adam’s nostrils, I wonder if the first breath is significant. Some say our first and last intake “Yah” and exhales “Weh” makes the sound of God’s name, Yahweh.
I don’t want to focus on when the soul arrives, other than to say only God is immortal. It is arrogant thought to assume a part of us is inherently eternal. The idea of immortal souls didn’t come from Hebrew Scriptures; it came from Plato, and it’s understandable that we accept it because Greek philosophy shaped our Western thinking. The Bible Project talks about the word that is most often translated as soul here.
You know the story—don’t eat from the Tree of Knowledge, or you will die. Was “die” hyperbolic? Did their soul/spirit die within their flesh at that moment? Are we assuming “you will surely die” meant God knew he would kick them out of the garden so they couldn’t eat the Tree of Life anymore, and then they would eventually die?
Job said his life came from the breath of the Almighty. After Jesus rose from the dead, he breathed on them and said, receive the Holy Spirit. So, I have wondered if this born-again breath is not connected to what perished in the garden.
All I understand is that, figurative or literal, access to the Tree of Life was granted and revoked in the garden of Eden, death entered, God desires none should perish (or die), but all would have eternal life instead—and the end of the book, Revelation 22 describes access granted to the Tree of Life again in our future so we will live forever.
It’s probably too ingrained in you, from the foundational philosophers of Western civilization, to let go of the idea that some part of you will live forever, naturally, in your own power, even in rebellion to God.
This is the context I am coming from. I do not believe any part of us is inherently eternal—and I’ve highlighted this to show my fearsome reverence for God, before I share my boldness on judging him.
“I said, ‘You are “gods”; you are all sons of the Most High.’ But you will die like mere mortals; you will fall like every other ruler.” Psalms 82:6-7
Taste, and see
When you first turn to God, you have judged him worthy.
Every time you submit, and believe his definition of sin, yielding a bit more of yourself to him, you are making a judgment that you can trust him.
When you do not do what he commands, you are judging him untrustworthy.
We’re invited to taste and see that the Lord is good. An action that results in consideration, opinion, and finally declaring a verdict on God.
In my last post, I wrote about our divine desire for justice because we’re made in the image of the righteous judge. Do you think God would give us the desire for justice and the ability to judge, but then tell us not to use it on Him—as though the giver of that justice might not stand up to it?
This concept of measuring God is unfamiliar to me. And these are probably new thoughts for you if you were raised to fear God, hell, Satan, sinners, your parents, an unchecked government, the world, hip-hop, and yourself. But taste and see—how could you walk boldly into the throne of grace if you’ve always believed he is arbitrary, punitive, and unjust?
Jeremiah has a humble posture when he comes to God and says he’d like to have a word with him, but look also at his boldness.
“Yet I would speak with you about your justice… You will be in the right, O LORD, when I lay charges against you, but let me put my case to you. Why does the way of the guilty prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive?” Jeremiah 12:1
Is this not the cry of your heart right now? How much healthier to lay it out on the table than to pretend like you aren’t lifting scales and inspecting the balance, waiting to see what the Lord will do. Stand on the edge of the cliff with Abraham and the Lord and echo, “Will not the judge of the earth do right?”
Come now, first let us reason together ways not to judge God
Do not judge God by
his leaders
an (English) translation
your limited knowledge
how you think this story should end
the people who smear his name
1. Do not judge God by his leaders, even the chosen ones like Saul
I mentioned last week that Eli had two sons who used their religious power in the temple to oppress financially and sexually. Eli knew about it and confronted them, but just as we saw in the recent SBC scandals (and have seen in many others) no one was punished and often not even restrained. Eli’s bloodline was supposed to be priests forever. God’s answer is that he will still honor his promise to the lineage, but the two guilty sons will die on the same day. Additionally, every descendant of theirs will die in the prime of life.
Eli still doesn’t punish them.
Samuel comes on the scene as a weaned child and in a sweet story hears God’s voice in the night. In the morning Eli wants to know what God said, but young Samuel doesn’t really want to tell him, “Uh, sir, God said your sins cannot be atoned…” Verse 14. They could not be atoned by anything Eli currently did in the temple. There was nothing set up under that priesthood that could atone for it.
But Eli convinces Samuel to be scary-honest. Verse 18, “So Samuel told him everything, hiding nothing from him. Eli replies, “He is the Lord; let him do what is good in his eyes.””
So great is the irreverence of Eli’s two sons, who have wielded religious power their whole lives, that they take the Ark of the Covenant out to the battlefield like God is also theirs to wield. 1 Sam 4 says the slaughter was great; Israel lost thirty thousand foot soldiers. The Ark of the Covenant was captured, and Eli’s two sons, Hophni and Phinehas, died (just as promised on the same day.)
When Eli hears his sons are dead and the Ark is captured—it is news of the Ark that devastates him. He was quite heavy. (Maybe he also benefited from those first-choice cuts of meat that his boys were stealing.) Eli falls back from his chair, breaks his neck, and dies. Then his daughter-in-law hears and dies giving birth. Already the family line is perishing in the prime of life. Eli had led Israel for 40 years.
God will deal with corrupt leaders—and keep his promises at the same time. That we want and need him to, illustrates how everything inside us cries out against the problem of sin and iniquity.
Rethinking Hell is a heady collection of essays from multiple scholars about conditional immortality. On page 216 note 35, one argues, “However, if God is the author of morality, God‘s own actions must ultimately be shown to conform to the moral principles God imposes on humanity…”
God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement…to demonstrate his righteousness. Romans 3:25–26. The fact that it’s a demonstration means it’s an invitation to observe and judge. God has come to an unbelieving world and put his character before us to win our fear, repentance, and love.
I’ve talked before about spiritual bypassing and cognitive dissonance by shrugging our shoulders and saying, “The Lord is mysterious, and I can’t trust me.” Growing up in church can be a little like the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes. This is how it seemed to me when my kids started talking. They pointed out things that I had practiced ignoring. I was in the habit of believing, “I can’t understand that. I’m sinful. I’m uneducated. God is sovereign.”
Christians are sometimes the crowd around the emperor, assuring the world they see elegant clothes with cheap phrases and pat answers. That hasn’t worked for the generations who’ve had access to a wider community and can ask the internet if they don’t buy the platitudes.
Sometimes the problem is in the translation itself or the translation philosophy. Like an idiom lost to time, some words would have made sense to the reader but don’t show up anywhere else in the Bible, so the nuance has to be assumed. Sometimes it’s taking the Bible too literally, when it so often uses hyperbole. Sometimes it’s not having a comparable word in the target translation. But people dedicate their lives to digging into those things, and we also have access to those scholars, books, podcasts through the internet.
This actually happened to me this week when I read David appointed his sons as priests. I was like, “Hold the phone, they aren’t Levites!” I already suspect some of David’s motivation and political maneuvering so I needed to know what was going on.
Apparently, this is a known discrepancy. Bible Hub is my favorite free resource for viewing multiple translations side by side. And the Lexicon button shows the Greek or Hebrew of the verse. If you click on a word, you can see where else it shows up in the Bible. The word used for priest regarding David’s sons does not refer to the official Aaronic Priesthood.
It’s more likely that they were officials put in charge of ministering. Neither is it the same word that we use for a kingdom of priests according to the order of Melchizedek.
Appreciate the Internet with me for a minute. Previously, it would have taken a very special complementarian pastor to answer all of a girl’s questions without assuming she wanted to usurp his authority and/or sleep with him.
I know it’s not always that simple. Some things in the Bible have no clean answer yet. If you only have a few minutes to spend in a devotional each morning, the writer probably isn’t going to highlight the Psalm, “May his children be wandering beggars; may they be driven from their ruined homes,” with a touching personal story.
That’s because, translations aside, there is tension in the Bible. It is a place where often two things are true. Consider when Jesus broke the law, broke the written law and healed a man on the Sabbath. He said in John 7:24, “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.” He’s telling the Pharisees here that there’s something else besides the literal interpretation of what they have written down in front of them.
3. Do not judge God by what you know that you know
Consider that scholars were cranky because John the Baptist didn’t eat and drink, and equally cranky because Jesus did eat and drink.
Peter knew Christ was the Son of the living God. You can see how this plays out ten verses after he declares that truth. Peter knows what he knows and therefore contradicts when Christ tells them is going to die. Don’t judge God by the pain and death that we know doesn’t need to be happening right now. Like Peter, we don’t understand everything going on, and all the powers at play.
I believe it was the human weakness in Christ that needed to rebuke Peter’s temptation to not go to the cross. There wasn’t a problem with Peter being his normal inquisitive, impetuous self. With careful words we still call out that we don’t see any clothes on the emperor. Suppressing the thought gets you sideswiped by the enemy’s philosophies. When you tell yourself, “God is God—shut up and take the free ticket out of hell!”
The spiritual person judges all things, but is himself to be judged by no one. 1 Corinthians 2:15
4. Do not judge him on how you think something should play out
I have an annual Hallmark Christmas movie night with a writer’s group. We call out story elements, write, and rewrite the story as we’re watching. Some of the gals are shockingly spot-on, as though they wrote the screenplay. I like to try guessing cheesy lines and say them just before the character does. But genre fiction follows a predictable story arc with mandatory components. There is a reason people love it. No surprises equals “emotionally safe.”
My dad asked me when I released Stone of Asylum, “If I read this story—is it going to be worth it?” Not counting the cost for some people to suffer through a book at all—this is a question of whether he can trust me, the author, with his time and the ending. I told him, “Probably not.” My martial arts trilogy is a dark retelling of the Count of Monte Cristo. I explore the theme of revenge and how a story might unfold if a human had the power to exact it. I had fun—but my writing contains no gifts of comfort or reassurance for the reader. It takes trust to follow a writer to the end of their novel, whether or not you first check the last page to see who lives.
But even if we know “God wins,” it doesn’t mean every chapter is going to make sense. Acts 21 is interesting to me because the local church urges Paul “through the spirit” not to go to Rome. See, the Spirit revealed to them that Paul would die in Rome. One man prophesied that the owner of this belt will be bound “like this.” And Paul asked them, “Why are you weeping and breaking my heart?”
Paul knew what he was called to do. He had been told that he would stand before Caesar. The same Spirit showed both Paul and the believers the same thing, but because humans have autonomy, they had different reactions to what should be done with that information. This dethrones the idea that “I have word from the Lord for you” also means “I understand all the details and here’s what you should do with your life.”
It also reveals that even if we have a promise, the path to get there isn’t predictable like genre fiction. Abram experienced famine, war, kidnapping, and years of barrenness before his promise came. David was anointed king, but the path involved running for his life, losing his best friend (who had sworn to be his second) as well as a lot of crafty political maneuvering and marriages before he established Jerusalem as the political and religious center.
As we wait for our promises with the assurance that God will wipe every tear—understand this reality: it just means there will be tears.
He knows we will judge his trustworthiness based on his fulfillment of promises. Fulfill your promise to your servant, so that you may be feared. Psalm 119:38.
5. Do not judge him by how others use his name
This is the one that I continually struggle with. I cannot for the life of me understand why God lets people do evil in his name. And I will leave it at that because I have no answer.
Won’t Ihen you see the phrase in the Bible, “For my name’s sake,” pay attention. Hebrews 6:13 says God swore by his own name because there was none greater. Blasphemy of the Holy Spirit is unforgivable, and most people try to reconcile “unforgivable” by saying it means rejecting the call of God even to the point of death, so you’re dead and your chance is over. But I wonder… is it not more serious than we realize when people blaspheme God’s name by falsely attributing good and evil to the point of drawing others away from him?
If people profane his name by committing atrocities and justifying it because they are “chosen,” the answer is not to cover it or look away. And it isn’t to decorate God’s actions with half-truth rationalizations. Elizabeth Eliot had a problem with the way Christians try to make God look good to defend him and said the way they fluff him is specifically a problem with Christian fiction. P. 126 & 129 Being Elizabeth by Ellen Vaughn.
It seems like many would rather protect the image of God than bear the image of God, especially when it is maligned. And protection is only needed if you do not believe he can protect his own name.
The problem of sin
The problem of sin/pain is a problem of free will and how we think God should deal with both.
Hold the tension of when Peter was indignant/ashamed/confused that Christ had de-robed and kneeled down to wash Peter’s feet. Like in so many other places, I’m glad here, Peter didn’t throw away his challenge, pretending he could see clothes.
I’m finishing a Lenten devotional this week called 40 Days of Decrease by Alicia Britt Chole. She highlights that at the Last Supper Jesus washed the feet of a betrayer, a denier, and ten deserters. He held the bread and wine out to each one, anyway.
Whether you are one of the ones who anointed him for burial weeks before, or you sit at this feast with questions and decisions—everything hangs on how you judge God.
And this is the point where we cannot cling without the grip of faith for parts yet unfulfilled or misunderstood. You can read the Bible prepared to be cranky when God eats and when he fasts—or you can look searching his loyal love. But we don’t need to pretend we see the emperor’s new clothes. Our naked king removed his own clothing and invites you to look upon him.
“God‘s character and conduct aught to win faith, not to be sustained by faith against appearances.” One of the essays in Rethinking Hell reiterates the invitation to a fallen world to judge who he is. “…we may be sure that the judge of the earth will do right, not merely in his own eyes, but in those of all his intelligent creation.” P. 199-201.
Chole also wrote in 40 Days of Decrease that the last time Judas spoke to Jesus he called him “Rabbi.” And the last time Jesus spoke to Judas, he called him “Friend.” The author explains, she remains “in that messy place theologically where God’s Sovereignty and human freewill co-exist.” P. 137.
I’m sorry that you came all this way and will not leave you with a tidy conclusion—save, trust the author to the end of the story. Confounding chapters of his grace play out everywhere you look—when you aren’t trying to write them.
“So don’t judge anything prematurely, before the Lord comes, who will both bring to light what is hidden in darkness and reveal the intentions of the hearts. And then praise will come to each one from God.” 1 Corinthians 4:5
“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; pardon, and you will be pardoned.” Luke 6:37
Or do you not know that the Lord’s people will judge the world? And if you are to judge the world, are you not competent to judge trivial cases? 1 Corinthians 6:2
Last time I wrote about rejecting other people’s judgment, how to judge ourselves, and when to stop.
Here, I explore balancing an outward direction of judgment. We need to identify a tree, but we’re also told not to judge. Sometimes I feel like the message I received was to never judge at all. But if we’re made in the image of the righteous judge, we shouldn’t squash that part of the divine within us.
But that bit of divine resides in a body with limited knowledge. I’ll also point out that our love for each other isn’t pure—so our judgement is tainted. The way we want to see justice is often like Jonah. We want God to withhold his mercy from others.
Humans love justice, or revenge movies wouldn’t be so fun—even when the revenge is over the top. God gave Israel the “eye for an eye” command, not to teach humans to exact justice, but to actually put a limit on retribution. He had to say vengeance belongs to him, not us. Israel (and all of mankind) naturally seek genocide as payment. An “eye for an eye” is God putting boundaries on judgement for us.
Outside the picture frame
I remember my dad commenting, “The best parents are people without kids.” Basically, it’s pretty easy from the outside to say what would fix a situation—when you are not required the sacrifice, work, or risk, and you aren’t the one missing sleep. Just because we partook of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil doesn’t mean we understand everything when we offer judgement on a platter of advice.
Peering into a family through snapshots doesn’t reveal much. And even if you’re close enough to regularly sit at their table, you still don’t know what you would do with that same combination of disease, personality, proclivity and finances. I’ve certainly puked solutions for problems I’ve never had all over people. I still have to catch myself from offering a one-sentence fix for a person’s lifetime of pain.
So, when I glance side-eye at my sibling’s faith journey, it’s a little like lifting eyebrows and telling God their father, “I read this great book that combines tough love with gentle parenting… you should probably pick a copy up, O Creator of the Universe.”
“Who am I to judge another’s servant?” Romans 14:4.
One problem is with the word judge. It can cover a spectrum from informed discernment to pronouncing condemnation. And there is a difference between judging someone’s actions and judging someone’s personhood.
Most people think of church as a judgemental place, but I’ve heard more from the pulpit about forgiveness (esp. for leaders,) and warnings not to judge because the same measurement will be used against me than when, why, or how to do judge.
Many times “do not judge” is used to tidy over damage done by those in authority. As though we are doing a service for God by mitigating his reputation for him and shielding his name. Just because Romans 14:12 says we will each give an account of ourselves to God, it doesn’t mean we aren’t accountable to each other.
I remember when one of my pastors who committed adultery had a statement read before the church. He wrote, “I, like David, have sinned against God alone.”
Sure… but there were a ton of people crying for only God being harmed.
I think two unofficial creeds we practice in church is “All sins are the same” and “By the grace of God, there go I.” So, since we’re all sinners—we try to give abusers of spiritual authority one more chance, and a little more grace. Sheila Gregorie has a good article about why sin leveling in church hurts us.
It feels like you know your pastor or podcaster because they share snippets of what they want to share every week. But you don’t know them. I finished Beth Moore’s beautiful memoir yesterday. Truly, there is so little we can know from the outside view of someone’s preaching.
Typically the only fruit we see is scandal from headlines.
First, just because a writer or pastor speaks an ideal from the pulpit, it doesn’t mean that he’s experienced it.
I taught karate for decades, but I’ve never been in an actual fight. I repeated things taught to me and trusted other people who said they’d been in a fight regarding how to move and react. It was all theoretical. I wonder how often people in the discipleship-for-sale industry are merely repeating what their mentors or silos have said.
The author of the Emotionally Healthy Leader wrote, “We can boldly preach truths we don’t live.” He writes about how when we are under another’s leadership, we assume that external markers of success mean all is well inside.
Emotionally Healthy Leader by Petter Scazzero
So, second, fruit can be faked. Especially for a little while.
I listened to an interesting interview that talked about why women (specifically) are leaving the church. Several of her suggestions resonated with me, so I’m glad I’ve hung onto my faith. (Although she did say that just because women are leaving the church, it doesn’t mean they’re leaving the faith.) One of the contributing factors may have something to do with the exposure of failings from the last generation of teachers. The fruit of gender submission grew ripe. We don’t want to eat it, now that we can see it.
Sometimes it takes a few decades, but God won’t be mocked. We, however, are duped from time to time.
It’s hard to consider the outcome of an ideology before it’s fully mature, but I think this has to do with never learning to exercise our judgement muscles. Always defaulting to “don’t judge because that means you’ll be judged harsher.” You want God to be as lenient as possible, so don’t point any fingers! Maybe he’ll grade on a curve…
Another contributor reinforcing non-judgement is the verse, “The heart is deceitful, and beyond cure, who can know it.” Especially when coupled with an inherent distrust of emotions. We quickly discredit our motives and feelings when we look out to judge. Or is it possible that this was something I felt in my female experience? Do boys grow up believing they have logic and the gift of spiritual discernment because of their gender?
Paul and Gender by Cynthia Westfall
But emotions can be a gift, and logic based on a lie can be dangerous.
I was sitting in a church recently, wanting to leave it. I prayed to God, “My heart loves these people, but my spirit and my mind are unsettled here.” The preacher got up and emphasized Jeremiah 17:9, saying that you can never trust your heart! I actually felt like God was teasing me and telling me to decide.
But the word for heart in Jeremiah could also mean inner man, mind, or will. So yeah, humankind’s unrestrained will is beyond wicked. Unbridled, there is nothing humanity will not seek to do. But—I also know that God promised to write his law upon our hearts. So we should stop telling everyone they can’t ever trust themselves and to repress that “uh oh” feeling. Sanctification is heading toward God curing our incurable hearts, minds, and wills.
If…no matter what your insides say, no matter what you see, no matter what you feel… you always believe, “I can’t trust me,” you will be afraid to judge. But how can we be shrewd without judgement?
Samson was a hero
The way we interpret Bible stories is another practice that contributes to mistrust of the divine justice we have planted inside. We assume everything in the Bible is “biblical” in the context of approved and endorsed as a right action by God.
I remember listening to an elder counsel another man to “put your fleece out before the Lord” because, “that’s biblical,” he said. I’d already heard another preach, “Don’t turn a man’s doubt into a doctrine.” But I would not have contradicted an elder (even in private) when I was 29 years old. I still don’t always know when to call out what I observe. Paul said to prophesy according to our faith, so I see that as a faith issue on my part. Most of the time I would rather write about it and slink away.
Stop. My example here is a doctrinal difference and arguing over theology. If you see someone being harmed, call it out. Don’t feed the cancer with your silence. It is not a matter of faith to let abuse continue. We bless what we tolerate.
If you look at Gideon’s entire story, he did ask for and receive multiple signs from God. He also won a battle against impossible odds. Keep reading though, he took one earring from each warrior’s plunder as tribute. Then built an ephod that became a snare to his family, and to all of Israel. After he died, the son of his concubine slaughtered 70 of Gideon’s other sons to become king. It may be “Gideon-story-biblical” to test God, but if Gideon had just followed God in faith—I wonder what different trajectory his life and legacy would have taken. That’s biblical.
From the Bible Project: “Notice how the author never tells you directly whether Gideon’s actions are good, bad, or a mix of both. The biblical authors rarely offer this kind of explicit moral commentary. Instead, they invite you to evaluate a person’s actions by meditating on the story.”
Sometimes I have avoided the book of Judges. Maybe because I didn’t feel license to judge the judges. The Spirit of the Lord comes upon Jephthah, and he shortly makes a vow to God to sacrifice whatever first comes out of his house if God will give him victory in chapter 11.
Jephthah wins the battle. His only child, a beloved daughter, dances out of the house with tambourines to celebrate and honor him. I’m using The Bible Project to read through this year, and the devotion said, “Even though Jephthah gives a long speech about Yahweh’s past actions, his behavior proves he has forgotten Yahweh’s character.”
Don’t be confused in Judges 11:29 that just because the Spirit of the Lord came on Jephthah, that God approved of his vow. God’s empowering is not a loss of agency. We still have to decide what to do with what we see, or know, or have supernatural courage. We still have to prophesy according to our faith. The book of Judges charts the decline of Israel’s morality so that when each man does what is right in his own eyes, the best of who rises at this point thinks God approves of human sacrifice. Human sacrifice through idol worship was the very thing that made God remove the land’s previous inhabitants and the reason Israel lost rights to it.
If you hate that story. Know that I always hated that story. I hated how it mentioned she was a virgin (thanks for pointing that out, now I know she had value) and how she submitted to death by her father willingly. As though submission to someone’s sin pleases God. Most sermons about this come from the perspective of, “Be careful what you vow to God.” Without good judgement, you might think so long as you are a man after God’s heart, you’re entitled to a few Bathshebas. Or the role of a daughter is to submit to her father’s injustice. Generations of girls will make a holiday for her obedience.
I, like David…
As a child, I remember hearing slaughter stories from the Bible and being told, “Welp, God is sovereign.”
It’s true we don’t understand the ways of the Lord, but we need to be careful our spiritual bypassing doesn’t translate to, “Disassociate, and only read the sweet sidebar devotionals in your flower-decorated Bible. And don’t trust yourself.”
We are supposed to learn to interpret and judge actions when reading the Bible so we can discern what is good and evil. Sometimes by the sense of injustice that immediately boils up like indigestion, and other times by the outcome of the character’s life.
We are also supposed to judge in order to demonstrate to each other (and the world) what is good, and what is evil.
Sometimes you just need to hear somebody else call a spade a spade. When a Christian won’t admit an action was wrong, it looks to the outside world like we don’t understand right from wrong. When preachers circle the wagons, they are no longer a safe place.
The beauty is that God uses the flawed and gutless. Don’t elevate the flawed and gutless. Just because a hero of the faith did it—doesn’t mean God endorses it. You should start judgin’ the hell outta it.
You, believer, if you remain in Him and seek his anointing, you have the Holy Spirit and no need for anyone to teach you. I said last week, that I think we know when we’re sinning—but sometimes only if we care to contemplate it. Listen to that incurable heart in as much as it is being transformed and cured. If this gives you pause because you fear some sort of Christian anarchy—there isn’t supposed to be a hierarchy in the body of Christ or a monopoly on discipleship-for-sale. I would ask you, “Are you jealous for the leader’s sake?” Mosses wished all people were prophets, and I think that was both God’s heart and a prophecy. Without discounting our need for a mixed-demographic body, discipleship, education, and study, we are all priests. We hold that role Mosses wished the masses would hold.
While we think we are waiting for God to finish reading that parenting book, we can judge without pronouncing condemnation. Since it is the great accuser who gives an account of others to God, we don’t want to be a conduit of the enemy’s accusations.
Hebrews 13:7 “Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith.”
Imitate it if you have judged the outcome of their life to be a result you want to follow. The appearance of faith needs also to produce the fruit of faith. Without condemning the father for being long-suffering with his servants, for the sake of your soul, judge what fruit you bite into. Judging actions is not judging personhood.
Will I prepare and eat this fruit? Will I propagate it?
Because if you are eating it, you will propagate it.
Submitting to authorities in your church is partaking. Ten verses after it says to consider the leaders we’re told they will give an account for how they watched over our souls in Hebrews 10:17.
But, remember, we will all give an account to God. We should take that seriously, because even though we try to sin-level in church, Jesus uses language to indicate that not all punishment will be the same.
It will be more bearable for some… says Matthew 10:15.
Some slaves receive few lashes, and some, many, in Luke 12:47-48.
And if someone leads a little one astray, it would have been better to die by drowning than whatever else is in store. Matthew 18:6
And in Hebrews it says, just think how much worse the punishment will be… indicating that some punishments will be worse. Hebrews 10:29
How then shall I live?
Micah 6:8 He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” In the end and right now, the God who sees knows both our intentions and our actions.
40 Days of Decrease by Alicia Britt Chole
God sees the heart and the actions—and he requires both from you. In the parable of the Two Sons, we see that even thought the Pharisees appreciate the one who does the work with a disobedient heart—over the one who is sincere in his disobedience—Jesus isn’t impressed with either.
Now that I’ve had a few years to process the phrase, “I, like David, have sinned against God alone,” I have two Bible stories I want to share for perspective.
First, “Don’t let me fall into human hands.” I also do not want to answer to humans who have no natural restraint on retribution. When David counted his army in direct rebellion to God, the prophet Gad came to him and offered three different options for his punishment. David answered Gad, “I have great anxiety. Please, let us fall into the Lord’s hands because His mercies are great, but don’t let me fall into human hands.”
I’m intrigued by “let us” and don’t “let me,” but I think we’ve run out of time. If you read my husband-leader & wife-follower posts, you probably remember examples of submission to death. Because a leader’s actions affect you, be careful who you let sway spiritual authority over you. There is one Shepherd. I will always run to God for his judgement alone. Never expect human judgement to be safer.
Second, is the story of Eli in 1 Samuel 2. His sons were using their position at the temple of God to financially oppress people and sleep with women. Eli says to his sons in verse 25, “If one person sins against another, God may mediate for the offender; but if anyone sins against the LORD, who will intercede for them?” They didn’t listen to their dad because God needed to destroy them.
Using your privilege to exploit is a sin against God. And if someone sins against God, who will intercede? It resonated as a possibility that when David said “I have sinned against God and God alone,” he was actually taking a more humble stance than it first sounded. Because who can intercept that?
This is the first part of a series. The intention is for two more to follow, and I suspect I’ll have audio by that time. I started a post titled “May the Lord Judge Between Me and You,” but could not rein it in. I think I’ve whittled it down to three long posts, but it’s hardly exhaustive and I’m continually pondering. So much more could be said, and hopefully it just becomes fodder for all the conversationalists and contemplatives on my list. I mostly draw from Romans 14 and Colossians 2:16-23.
Never, never, never
When I was first married, a teenage girl told me she would never go forward for prayer. Everyone in the church would judge her because she needed prayer. She believed they’d be more judgmental about why she went forward than happy that she did.
When I was newly pregnant with my second, I invited a gay man who I worked with to visit my church. (I was pretty ignorant about the topic.) He was emphatic that people would never want him to enter the building.
When Sovereign Ground was in the early stages, a believer who used to be a (strip-tease) dancer told me she didn’t feel comfortable in church. She could never let anyone know her history.
I never understood these situations. Even with all my wonky beliefs, I’d somehow reconciled the notion that all sins are forgiven and we’re fully accepted. Otherwise, I did not see any use for Christianity. I still don’t. I do not have many things about my faith that I learned well the first time, but reconciled to God unashamed was one of them. I’m not sure my faith would have survived had I not seen God as my safe place.
Now that I’m older, I’ve learned more about personality types. Some people—especially those with a precise concept of right and wrong—feel judgement more keenly. Whether or not it’s there.
Although let’s be honest. Other’s judgement is there more often than not. Because it would be idiotic to never judge the right and wrong of something, or not to use our judgement.
Judgy in church
If you can see the Old Testament as a story of God’s enduring love and pursuit of mankind, and the gospels as that reconciliation to God, then most of the rest of the New Testament is how humans are to live together as disjointed people groups and sinful cultures melded in harmony.
Romans 14 talks about one issue preventing our community from coming together: the weaker and stronger judging each other. Just as 1 Peter 3:7 specifically commands husbands to honor their wives as a co-heir made in the image of God, but who lives in a weaker package, (either generally less muscle mass, or ability to protect and provide for herself in the first century.) I think Romans is also calling attention to the strength differences between all co-heirs who come in different packages. To be gentle with that difference, whether the weakness is mental, physical, financial, or spiritual. A stronger or weaker faith.
In the example in Romans 14, some people couldn’t eat meat because of their conscience. Some had no conflict in their hearts when they ate it. Let not the one who eats despise or hold in contempt the one who abstains, and if you don’t eat it, don’t pass judgment on the one who does. God has welcomed him.
We are to welcome that weaker person—and not quarrel over opinions, reasonings, or disputing matters. Maybe this is saying some matters are disputable, and some are not—don’t argue over the disputable ones. But if this includes “doubtful things and opinions” as well like some versions translate—how does that not include most of the Bible?
Can you hear the established denominations cringing? “Not divide over theology!? But how will I know if I’m on the straightest and narrowest way unless I’ve broken relationship over doctrine?”
I don’t know if I can answer that. I guess you’ll have to work out your faith in equal measures of fear and trembling, and unwavering faith.
Back to the vegan barbecue. Because we don’t eat meat sacrificed to idols, it might be possible to skip over the point of Romans 14.
Colossians chapter 2:16-23 gives other examples; instead of meat, it mentions holidays. Let no one judge you according to new moons and Sabbath festivals.
If we ignore the genocides, wars, and famines around the world and try to lay that right on top of 2026 west coast America, our division over holidays is more like avoidance of southerners who ruin sweet potatoes with marshmallows on Thanksgiving. (Maybe we have stronger dissension over Halloween in different faith flavors.) But it’s hard to imagine public humiliation, severing of family, loss of work or exile from the community over Sabbath observance, like the first guy who picked up sticks and was stoned by the community.
Let’s imagine some ways “stronger and weaker faith” plays out in other things we consume besides food. We disagree on ways to entertain and self-soothe. Books and movies with violence, or with sex? Since our personal threshold for titillation can vary and be altered, should you read fiction or watch movies at all?
I remember my fat pastor patting his stomach and ordaining Baptist potlucks while condemning playing cards.
Here’s my favorite way to highlight how Romans 14:3 plays out in modern fellowships:
The church who is deliberate to post on their website that marriage can be only between a man and a woman, and reads statements on Sunday morning clarifying a historical-biblical stance on sexual purity to visitors—you know, just so everyone is sure where they stand—but then hosts ongoing weekly men’s Bible studies for those poor guys who struggle with pornography. One flavor of sexual struggle must be vocally renounced, and the other can be embraced weekly as a men’s group. An identity they can “affirm” and hetero-bond over. (Meaning: no hugging, fist bumps only.)
Selective on the sin you endorse and normalize to the point of fostering it.
Don’t let me judge you.
The person who consumes media is disgusted by the one who shops, calling their excessive consumerism “holy capitalism.” One who is disciplined and rigid in their eating can hardly look at one who tries to soothe their brain with sugar. The sugar addict shames the alcohol drinker. Forget trying to peer around our plank. We not only justify our own stuff, we hang a flag on it. (#nospicebooks = #readlikeme )
Can you party like a first-century Greek? Or is it a church-level-up to forgo drink and dance like the Puritans did? In some respects, it would be easier if we were given a manual that says you can drink 6 fluid ounces of 12% wine that you paid taxes on each Tuesday, after 5 pm, if you are wearing blue.
But the Bible doesn’t lay out every detail. It gives the heart of God’s desire for us to live in community through the example of meat sacrificed to idols—but we are to navigate the unwritten—letting no one judge us.
Rejecting judgement
Religious and apostates alike snap their fingers and tell you to sit at a different table. So Colossians 2:18 warns against letting others disqualify you. People who are puffed up without reason in their sensual mind. Even people who make a living peddling Christian wares. Like well-paid celebrity pastors who sell us their reproducible methods for godliness.
We practice rejecting other’s disqualification by not letting them place rules on us. Keep going and see what Colossians 2, verse 23 says about rules, “These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.”
Hebrews 13:9 says it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not regulations—and here it specifically highlights regulations about food. Don’t get carried away, though, with any strange teachings that don’t benefit the ones who observe them.
Especially rules that do not promote oneness with God and others. (Like whether or not full immersion is required, or that the call of God is irrefutable.) And especially rules that look churchy on the outside—but have no value changing the core, the flesh. For example: girls must wear dresses to church. Men must shave facial hair. Don’t drink Diet Coke. I can assure you as a product of private school—making girls wear nylons, and forbidding aerosol hair spray did not change anyone’s heart about anything.
I take that back. It hardened my heart.
Fully convinced
Here is the clincher. Romans 14:5 says one chooses one day to honor, but another chooses a different day… each one should be “fully convinced in his own mind.”
Move down to verses 22-23 “The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who has no reason to pass judgment on himself for what he approves. But whoever has doubts is condemned if he eats, because the eating is not from faith. For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.”
Whatever you believe about the details is usually better to keep between yourself, God, and sometimes the intimate relationships you walk life with. You don’t need to tell everyone whether the tax collector at your table has signed the Nicene Creed or not.
And if you’re fully convinced, you are blessed.
James 4:17 it says “He knows the right thing to do yet and does not do it, to him it is sin.” How fascinating—and how weighty—that God has put the accountability and the burden on each of us individually to seek him. Judge yourself.
This always gets me. I think we do know when we are sinning, even if we find a way to biblically justify it. I know from myself and others that humans are creative in justifying anything. One way I can suspect that something is wrong for me, even if I can justify it for myself—is if it makes me cranky when others do it. Example: texting and driving. Yes, I know texting is against the law, so it isn’t actually a gray area. But I only do it when it is appropriately safe. And that asshole is risking my life.
Judge for yourself both the doctrines that divide us and the ancillary details of how you live out your Christian life in your community and culture. It isn’t license to go against things clearly defined in scripture like, “don’t cuss or chew or hang with girls who do.”
For those who aren’t sure, that isn’t in the Bible, which is why we should search the scriptures for the difference between those good practices and non-negotiables. It probably will not be some rhyme you grew up with. But searching scripture for the heart and context (not specific words) will start to reveal God even if it doesn’t set up standards that apply on Tuesdays, after 3 pm when you are wearing blue.
There is another result of not laying out all the details in a comprehensive rule book. We foster intimacy with God when we come to him for our specific details. Not having a rule about blue cultivates wisdom when we step beyond “to do or not to do” situations and look at every situation critically and compassionately.
Continuously searching the Bible also diminishes the tendency to look up one verse and “claim it as gospel” or use an incomplete sentence as a two-edged sword to cut others down. The Bible is often uses specific examples like meat sacrificed to idols, or wearing a hair covering that no longer apply, but still illuminate a heart-matter in mankind.
The specifics don’t need to be regulated by others. Whatever you do, do it for God in his name. Sincerity in Colossians 3:17 probably opens up lots of things we haven’t been doing, and shuts down all kinds of things we’ve justified.
How to judge yourself
Even though I think we know when we are sinning, in our natural state, we suck at judging ourselves. Self-reflection can swing from unhealthy deprecation to comparison elevation—where it’s easy to find some shocking glimpses of humanity to elevate ourselves.
As I said in the post Take Luck, you can think you are measuring correctly until you use a scale. Paul said he wouldn’t have known he should not covet unless the Bible had told him not to. Use the Bible to look inside, to uncover your heart.
So if you are still searching for inerrant prescriptive details, or trying to achieve sanctification through doctrinal precision—you should be careful using the Bible. Yes, I said be careful reading the Bible.
If you’re reading through in a year, you’re probably finishing Deuteronomy right now. I wonder how many of the Old Testament laws contributed to my childhood beliefs toward female virginity. If you take literal readings of Deuteronomy 24-25 outside of the context of ancient culture, you might think it is acceptable to God for a man to take a woman as booty after war, then grow tired of her, for men have more than one wife, and if any of his ladies fail to prove her virginity she should be stoned to death on her father’s doorstep. I don’t think female virginity (specifically) was as important to God as ignorant modern readings indicate. He was actually protecting women of the time from willy-nilly accusations and discarding. In an era where women can have a job outside of the home besides prostitution, laws about your rapist, to provide a future to you through marriage are unneeded. But the heart of protection over society’s vulnerable should remain.
And stop.
There’s a religious OCD manifestation that spins condemnation. Scrupulosity can be focused outward where there’s a fixated, obsessive compulsion to reiterate and argue morality. If someone has this, know that they have to close the loop to satisfy their brain. It doesn’t mean you have to stay and listen, but you do have to walk away unaffected.
It can fixate internally as well. Think of the person who wants to die because their something didn’t disappear through repetitive prayer. God answers many of my prayers, sometimes immediately, sometimes through years of laboring, but some struggles continue to prick me like a thorn. And some thorns, like bitterness, have deep, deep roots. We will not be completely rescued from this body of death until we are in the kingdom.
The weekly groups that talk about their struggle with pornography can be liberating because of the strange connection between shame and addiction. Yes, shame and secrecy give addiction a greater hold over you.
But talking about it constantly, affirming it as your personality or unique nature, and essentially fasting and praying over it nonstop, also embeds it into your persona. It becomes the only thing you think about.
Last Sunday the pastor preached on the Flood and said judgement never brings people to repentance. Only grace does. She said this because as soon as the earth was destroyed… Noah planted a vineyard, got drunk, and something dark happened in his tent…
So judgement cleansed the earth of violence, but they started sinning again right away.
It settled something I’ve been struggling with. On the mountain when Moses receives the 10 commandments, the Israelites make a golden calf and God becomes so angry he wants to start over. He wants to wipe them out and start over again, but this time with Moses. And I thought, “Didn’t you already try that once with the flood, God?”
If you’re unnerved that my heart cries out in question to God like that—wait until we get to the post “Judge God.” But also know that Moses went right into it with God and said, “If you kill these people in the desert, then the other nations will judge you.” I think the point about the story is more about Moses than God truly wanting to start over again.
It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace. It is grace that changes us. Not judgement.
Confession and conviction
Sometimes we need help, someone outside to confess to—but in the process of confession you have already done some of the internal work of weighing yourself.
And then sometimes there’s conviction. In the times of my life that someone’s sin has been revealed to me, and I felt prompted to call it out, I felt no judgement. The times someone has approached me and convicted me of my sin, I’ve felt no judgement.
Not receiving judgement from others, doesn’t negate the need to have a community who sees you clearly. But compare the conviction and shame both Peter and Judas felt. Judas despaired and killed himself. Peter wept bitterly but returned. Conviction that leads to alienation is not from God. Conviction that leads to repentance and makes a way back, does.
Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster talks about the discipline of confession. He says in preparing for confession, there must be a “definite termination point on the self-examination process.”
Definite termination point. Otherwise, we can easily fall into a permanent habit of self-condemnation. Maybe because we can be fooled into thinking that hating ourselves is not still self-obsession.
Confession can foster accountability. But I think a more valuable purpose is that even though judgement needs to be weighed internally, sometimes the sensation of forgiveness is experienced externally.
Which is why so many people inaccurately equate Christians’ rejection of them as God’s rejection.
What a loss to be so afraid that the hypocrites (humans) in church might judge you, that you cannot come to a place of vulnerability and openness! Because without honesty, there can be no confession, and without confession you remain in bondage to that fear of judgement. How will you heal in shame?
Of course, as I mentioned in the Praying Naked post, it’s right to use discretion and not be fully open in front of all people at all times.
Just as you have to make self-examination/judgment a discipline, make accepting forgiveness and walking in light a similar “conscious discipline.” You look at your sin. You accept that you are forgiven. You turn your back on both the sin and the condemnation.
Even if the sin keeps enticing. You move on from the judgement. Don’t delude yourself into thinking that you’re going to exact appropriate punishment by continuing to wallow in regret of your failure. Don’t think that abasement finishes the work of the cross.
I like the way Mary Demuth describes this in Love, Pray, Listen. She says “As I grow deeper in my relationship with Christ, I’m realizing how fruitless it is to be my own sin-monitor. Even the Holy Spirit, when he convicts, does so with hope; the Spirit does not remind us later of our past failures in an angry tone.” She goes on to describe that micromanaging herself into perfection or “self-introspective despair” is a deeper issue of faith….learning to be Spirit-led versus sanctifying herself.
Don’t let others judge you. Use accurate judgement when considering yourself. Stop. And then move forward.
