I understand that it’s a tough issue, that there is something a bit disconcerting to have the Holy Spirit inspiring a prayer from a man asking God to dash his enemies’ heads against the rocks. That though is just what we find in what are called “imprecatory Psalms.” These are Psalms wherein one man beseeches God to destroy other men, and even children. C.S. Lewis had one of his major trips over this issue, going so far as to call these texts “sinful.” Others have taken these texts as license to virtually cast evil spells on others they disapprove of. How do we embrace these Psalms for what they are, the Word of God, without embracing an ethic that would be repugnant to Jesus?
By understanding the nature of the gospel. Specifically, we must come to understand the cauldron of violence inherent in the gospel. How easily we misunderstand what God has done for us. We see ourselves like little children, lost, and alone, but basically good. Jesus came here to find us, take us by the hand and lead us to heaven. We think Jesus is the Great Hero and we the damsel in distress. The truth is we are by nature the enemies of God, little dragons taking instruction from the Great Dragon. We are not the damsel in distress but the evil witch. And Jesus does not take our hand to lead us. No He takes His hand, plunges it into our chest and rips out our hearts. Before giving us new ones.
Our salvation is less moving from being lost to being found, more moving from being His dead enemies to being His living brothers and sisters. It begins with destruction, violent, earth-shattering destruction. If that’s not enough violence, remember that our salvation is built on the violence that scourged our Lord, that it pleased the Father to bruise Him, that by His stripes we are healed.
Which helps us understand precisely how and why we not only can but should pray imprecatory prayers on God’s enemies. First, our God is the God who lifts up the lowly and brings down the mighty. The Day of the Lord is darkness for some, glorious deliverance for others. But second, our God is the God who brings down the mighty, sometimes that He might lift them up. He destroys that He might rebuild, kills that He might give life. When I pray against him who daily seeks my harm, against him who spurns His grace, who rails against the body of Christ, I do so asking that God would destroy him. Should He determine to destroy him through crucifying him with Christ, and raising him with Him, I have gained a brother, mercy has been made known and justice has been served. Should He determine to destroy him in the fire that never dies, justice has been served. Should I complain if God chooses the former, I show myself to fail to understand my own need for His grace.
God’s judgment is a beautiful thing, not something anyone needs to be ashamed of. His mercy is a sublime thing, not something anyone ought to be proud of. Pray for His judgment, and pray in thanksgiving should His judgment pass over your foes. Pray always knowing such once were we.
There is no such thing as the “More” party. They do not run campaigns seeking to unseat sitting officials of the “Less” party. Both “More” and “Less” need more context and less ambiguity. We need to know what we are getting more or less of. In like manner, the question of pluralism begs a previous question- Plural what? What is it the pluralists want more of? On the surface it might seem that what they want more of is religions. One religion isn’t enough. We need, according to these folks, to construct a world with plenty of room for Hindus and Hottentots, for Muslims and Mormons, for Buddhists and Baptists.
Authority
When we look deeper, however, we run headlong into an inescapable spiritual reality, that every religion in the end is all about authority. What they want is multiple authorities. If there is, in the end, only one authority, and I am not that authority, then I am under authority. But, if there are lots of authorities, which is another way of saying there is no authority, then I am free to rule my own world. Then there is not only room for Shinto-ism, but for Sheila-ism. There is not only room for Roman Catholicism, but for R.C. Sproulicisim.
Denying What We Know
When the Apostle Paul writes in Romans 1 that the natural man suppresses the knowledge of God in unrighteousness, that he denies what he knows, we understand that he does this that he might continue to sin, without fear of reprisal. The natural man constructs a view of the world wherein he never need fear facing the judgment of God. This construct not only will actually require the facing of the judgment of God, but is in fact already a judgment of God. It is the very foolishness that God gives their minds over to.
Dealing with the Devil
But what about us? Pluralism isn’t the exclusive province of the unbeliever. We who profess the Lordship of Christ, more often than not, in turn find pluralism appealing. We who have been given new hearts, presumably are about the business of putting to death our desire for self-rule. We ought, it would seem, to be of the “Less” party. I fear our motives are scarcely more honorable than our unbelieving friends’ motives. It is a different twist on the question of authority. They will not affirm the Lordship of Christ over them because they fear that Christ will reign over them. We are fearful of affirming the Lordship of Christ over all things, including our neighbors, because we are afraid of our neighbors ruling over us. Pluralism is a half-hearted attempt at a compromise of convenience- we won’t condemn you if you won’t condemn us. We won’t say you are wrong, if you won’t say that we are wrong. We won’t find your views backwards and repugnant, if you won’t find our views backwards and repugnant. What a deal. And all it costs us is the central and first affirmation of our own faith, Jesus is Lord. All we have to give up to win peace with our neighbors is the proclamation of the gospel.
Seek First
Jesus is all too aware of our fears. He knows how painful it is to be scorned by the broader culture. He knows what its like to have a single dominant religion find your religion to be foolish and superstitious. He has experience in suffering under a single monolithic power. He’s entered into this reality, and conquered it. And He commands of us that we seek first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. He commands that we put our worries away, and trust in Him.
No Bounds
We evangelicals make the foolish mistake of thinking that when enough souls decide to make Jesus the Lord of their lives, that He will become the Lord of all things. The reality is that Jesus is already Lord over all things. His kingdom, strictly speaking, does not expand, for even now it knows no borders. He does not, therefore, engage in some sort of power sharing arrangement with other pretenders to His throne, whether they be false deities, or those who falsely worship them. His Lordship is not something we accomplish. It is something we recognize and submit to. It is not something we negotiate; it is something we proclaim.
Good Cheer
That Jesus is Lord, however, is not some grim reality that we proclaim with all the grace of a desert prophet. It is something we proclaim with all the grace of joy. It was our Lord Himself, after all, who commanded us to “Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). It’s over. The kingdom is here, and Jesus has won. What fools we are to rush off to negotiate with the enemy to save our skins.
Repent and Believe
His victory, of course, does not mean that we rush off to kill all our enemies. It means instead that we are to love them. Our love for them must be strong enough, however, to tell them with both passion and compassion, that their hopes are in vain, that their gods are mute and dumb, and that there is only one name under heaven by which a man must be saved. Our love for them does not present the Christian gospel as an option. It goes not lead us to argue that it’s a good option that has worked well for us. Our love instead commands all men everywhere to repent and believe the gospel, lest they perish. Our love calls on all our enemies to kiss the Son, lest He be angry and they perish along the way.
NDA’s, None Disclosure Agreements, we are told, are now DOA, Dead On Arrival. They are condemned as anti-Christian tools of oppression, gag orders coming down from the man, cover-ups fueled by filthy lucre. Only the evil would ever pay someone not to say something. Often, however, they are used by businesses, even Christian organizations and churches, this way- Person A is let go. If person A agrees not to speak ill of their former employer, said employer will pay an agreed upon severance. Refuse to sign and severance is out the window. I can certainly see the concern. It looks like the employer is buying the silence of the former employee. At best it looks dodgy. At worst it is oppressive in the extreme. I can also acknowledge, however, that we live in a world where false accusations destroy, no matter the legal outcome. Got a disagreement with someone about whether or not you’ve done them wrong, or if they’ve wronged you? The Bible, it seems, at the very least acknowledges the benefits of private settlements-
“Do not go hastily to court;
For what will you do in the end,
When your neighbor has put you to shame?
Debate your case with your neighbor,
And do not disclose the secret to another;
Lest he who hears it expose your shame,
And your reputation be ruined” (Proverbs 25:8-10).
Sellers of Silence
What should we think, however, when instead of someone offering to buy the silence of another, someone offers to sell their silence to another? Suppose, for instance, Person A knows that Person B has done something wicked, something that would, if found out, rightly ruin Person B’s reputation, work, future income, marriage, life. Person A knows what Person B did, having shared in the evil deeds. Suppose that Person A is persuaded, having participated with Person B in his shameful acts, that Person B is a menace, a danger to others that should be stopped, and exposed. Suppose Person A, instead of humbly acknowledging her own guilt in the matter, instead of bravely, publicly exposing Person B in order to protect others, offers her silence, at the price of $5,000,000. “Give me the millions,” she says, “and I won’t tell anyone what we’ve done.” A real victim doesn’t throw future victims under the bus by selling her silence for the right price.
Seller’s Remorse
Pretty terrible, I know. About the only thing that could make it worse is if, after intense negotiations over the actual cost of Person A’s silence, agreement is reached on a sum, the check is written, and Person A commences to publicly grouse about how terrible it is that she is being held to the non-disclosure agreement she made. Her seller’s remorse shouldn’t trouble anyone but her and her husband. Whether the payout was $5,000,000 or $50,000 or $50 makes no difference. Remember the end of the story of an indecent proposal. A wealthy man asks a woman, “Will you sleep with me for $1,000,000?” The woman considers the offer and concedes that she would. He then asks, “Would you sleep with me for $100?” She, insulted, slaps him and asks, “What do you take me for?” He dryly replies, “We’ve already established that. We’re just haggling over the price.”
It Was the Man
There are those who will point to the power differential to excuse Person A’s sin. I understand that there is an increasing cultural acceptance of the silly notion that power differentials among adults can erase the capacity of the weaker person to give genuine consent, ideologies that condemn King David not for his adulterous relationship with Bathsheba, but for his “rape” of her. Perhaps I’ve been too culturally conditioned in egalitarianism, but I find such a perspective profoundly demeaning to women, a shameless infantilizing of God’s female image bearers. I believe, in short, that all adults, men and women, are responsible for their own actions. Crazy I know.
Grievous Guilt All Around
Nothing Person A did mitigates the deep and shocking guilt of Person B. And nothing Person B did mitigates the guilt of Person A. Person B was unfaithful to his spouse with Person A. Person A was unfaithful to her spouse with Person B. Person B added to his guilt by agreeing and paying to cover it up. Person A added to hers by offering, for the right price, to help him do so. Person A is no victim. Co-conspirators in infidelity, co-conspirators in cover-up.
Jesus, like love, is something everyone wants to lay claim to. That is, just as there is no organized coalition banded together by a hatred of love, so there are precious few people who are willing to lay a charge at Jesus’ feet. In both cases we simply change the meaning of the term, into something we’re in favor of. Like Joshua outside the walls of Jericho, we want to get Jesus on our side. This is why Marxists have created their own Jesus. This is why theological liberals have their own Jesus. We come to the Bible wearing our own glasses, and aren’t at all surprised that Jesus comes out looking just like us.
We who are Reformed are well practiced at this art as well. Only we create a Jesus who is as cranky as we are. When our gentler evangelical brothers chide us for our bitter sarcasm, we are quick to point out some of Jesus most choice words for His enemies, “White washed tombs” “Sons of the Devil” being just a few. When the happy, ecumenical feel-good neo-evangelicals fuss at us for fussing at them for being happy, ecumenical feel-good neo-evangelicals, we are quick to remind them that Jesus may not have extinguished a smoking wick, but He was known to pick up a cracking whip. He did not stand at the entrance to the Temple, and like the gentleman that He is, invite the moneychangers to take their business elsewhere.
In both cases we are caught in this tension. On the one hand, we are to imitate Christ. He is to be our model, and we are to walk in His footsteps. On the other hand, we are not at all like Him. We can never stand in His unique position of moral authority. I’d like to make a suggestion as to how we might deal with this dilemma. Perhaps we ought to be quick to pick up the cross of Christ, and slow to pick up His prophetic mantle. Or better still, we ought not to pick up the prophetic mantle until we pick up the cross.
It is interesting to note that Jesus performed what might be understood as His first destructive miracle during Passion Week. Up until that point He has made the blind see, and the lame walk. He had freed many from illness and demonic oppression. Then, the day after His triumphal entry, He cursed a fig tree for having no figs. It was the same week that Jesus drove the moneychangers out of the Temple. One gets the sense that His sense of righteous indignation rose in proportion to the closeness of the coming of His suffering. We on the other hand ratchet up our rhetoric so as to avoid suffering, to avoid the cross.
If we enter into His suffering, if we are willing to lay down our lives, rest assured He will give us prophetic opportunities. If we are willing to go, silent as a lamb to the slaughter, He will not only raise us up, but will give us words to speak. If, on the other hand, we take it upon ourselves always to pronounce judgments of woe, woe may well become a close companion.
Thesis 68 We must love our brothers.
“I know I have to love him, but I don’t have to like him.” There’s something to this, well, rationalization. That is, there is both truth in it and rationalization in it. Our call to love one another doesn’t mean we can’t have some friends closer than others, that we can’t choose to spend more time with our friends than others. It doesn’t mean we won’t find ourselves in Paul, Barnabas and John Mark situations. That said, it’s quite easy to confuse a refusal to murder those we are commanded to love as acting in love. Love for the brethren may not flatten our affections out, but it’s significantly more than merely steering clear and leaving them alone.
In the broader church we have our various and sundry tribes. Sometimes those tribes are marked by theological differences on secondary and tertiary matters. Sometimes they are marked by more subtle differences in subcultures. That ornithological creatures of similar plumage tend to congregate in close proximity isn’t anything to be ashamed of. But when we are honest we have to admit we take it too far. If there would be Reformation in our day, that needs to change.
Which is why the loss of privilege, the increasing cultural hostility toward the Christian faith may be a great blessing. I’ve had the privilege of serving the church under deep persecution, in a nation under martial law where Christians are a small and despised minority. What I found among them was that they were sustained by long and involved arguments over whether infralapsarianism or supralapsarianism represented a more biblical view of the logical order of God’s decrees. No, actually, that wasn’t what sustained them. What I found was that the heat of persecution softened them toward each other. Persecution fulfilled its good office of making of the true church a melting pot. It burned off the dross of the divisive. Perhaps this is what God has in store for us in our day.
That means friends that that church down the road, where they are stiff, where they have all sorts of cultural rules, and your church, are family. That your church, where they are doctrinally imprecise, where they are loose, having embraced many of the broader cultures mores, is family to the uptight church down the road. The charismatics and the Presbyterians, the Baptists and the non-denoms, the Lutherans and the Reformed, baby baptizers and those who think a game of Go-Fish is an invitation to the devil, we’re all in this together. We’re all bought with a price. We all have the same elder brother, Jesus who died not just for our sins but for our quirks and foibles. Jesus, who died for our brothers just as much as He died for us, who loves “them” just as much as He loves “us.”
We must stop putting up with our brothers and start lifting them up, stop begrudgingly admitting we’re related, more eagerly embracing them as beloved kin. Reformation of the church happens as we are re-formed, not separated shocks of wheat out in the fields, but one loaf, the body of Christ.
