A Ratio Hornblower- Meeting Franco’s Friends

Last week I published a brief piece (here) that argued that making a nation Christian is a good thing, while trying to make nationalism Christian was a fool’s errand. Simply put, we as a nation become more Christian the more we submit to God’s law, at every level. Nationalism, on the other hand, well, here’s how Oxford defines it, “identification with one’s own nation and support for its interests, especially to the exclusion or detriment of the interests of other nations.” One can no more Christianize the exclusion or detriment of other nations than one can Christianize abortion. The Christian “nation” is the kingdom of God, which joyfully and peacefully invades every border with the gospel.

I have no desire to remake the same point here. Instead I want to explore the experience of being ratio-ed. In the many replies I received the most thoughtful ones argued that we have to choose between Christian nationalism and communism. Freedom is not an option. The great bulk of the replies, however, were directed at me. Some determined that my point had no merit because I had visited the Ashley Madison website ten years ago. Others pointed out that I drove drunk with my two sons in the car more than seven years ago. Many pointed out that I am not half the man my father was. All, sadly, true. Irrelevant, but true.

Others accused me of sins I have not committed. Not relevant, but false. Still others suggested that I am not masculine, that I am gay, that I am a cuckhold, (a man whose wife is unfaithful), that I deserve to die, that I support the rape and torture of nuns and the desecration of their bodies, and last but not least, that I am not a child of the living God. Yikes. This is not one or two people who forgot to take their meds, but dozens of, mostly anonymous, people who see themselves as supporters of “Christian nationalism.”

Strangely, no one accused me of my worst sin. Though it should be widely known, not because I am the son of RC Sproul, but because I am a son of God, the truth is I crucified Jesus. Not only did my sin, in conjunction with His love for me, make it necessary, but, had I been there, no doubt I would have cried out “Crucify Him.” Had I been Pilate I would have washed my hands. I confess this sin, along with every other sin, every Lord’s Day when I come to the Lord’s Table. There I am called to discern the body, which is to recognize my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Some of my brothers and sisters in Christ have secured abortions. Virtually all of them have voted for political candidates, and will do so again, who support legal rights for some abortions. Some of them think you can Christianize nationalism. Some of them think nothing of throwing a man’s past sins in his face to try to silence him. Some of them think nothing of spreading lies and false rumors. Some of them feel free to insult a brother, and to deny he is their brother. Some of them have visited Ashley Madison and driven drunk. And all of them who rest in Christ alone, who acknowledge their failure and cry out for mercy are my brothers and sisters. One out of every one person who repents and believes will inherit eternal life. That’s a ratio we will live with, and through, for eternity.