Whups... We Forgot One.

We Fundamentalists tend to be big on obeying God's commands. We recognize the truth of I John 5:3 that the measure of our love for God is how well we keep His commandments. Done properly, this isn't legalism - we're not asserting that keeping a list of commandments will get us saved, but rather that we keep those commandments because we are saved.

But there is a command that Fundamentalism has forgotten. I see it neglected by the people in the pews, and I see it neglected by the preachers in the pulpits. In the times when it ought to be most obeyed, I see it most neglected.

The command? Philippians 4:4 : "Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice."

Yet as I look about the pews (and our church is far better in this regard than many I've been in), the evidence of joy is so rare. Even the smiles often look like they barely extend beneath the makeup. (On the ladies, of course! Fundamentalist men don't wear makeup. Unless we're on TV. Then we wear lots, and the smiles often look even more fake.)

I'm not saying we should cover up our problems - on the contrary, we should be bearing one another's burdens, and to bear a burden, you have to know about it. But if we're obeying the Lord's commands, shouldn't that be evident to someone who looks? Shouldn't it show in something other than a pasted on smile that we're rejoicing in the Lord?

When I listen to believers, there is far more discussion of trouble than triumph in most conversations. Often, even the praises are a lead-in or a cover-up for the complaints. "All things work together for good, the Lord knows what He is doing, and He sure is good, but this bad thing happened, and that bad thing went on, and there's this terrible situation, and I don't know what we're going to do, and Aunt Edna is really sick, but God is in control... I just wish I was!" Well, okay, I rarely actually hear that last part verbally, but it sure seems like it's trying to get out past all the effort to make complaining sound like faith. We work hard to obey the commands to witness, to be different from the world, and so on... but we forgot the command to be joyful. Yet our joy is one of the greatest differences between us and the world and one of our greatest testimonies to the world.

What makes me saddest in this is what I see from some of our leaders. I attend a preacher's fellowship, and there is a time set apart for prayer. Now, I don't much care for the balance of the requests, but that's a post for another day. What really bothers me is the sense of unmitigated despondency that accompanies them. I understand that there is a rightful sorrow over sin and that our hearts may cry out in compassion for those in pain, and even that we may shed tears both within and without at the agonies of soul we endure. But is there any time we should be more joyful than when we approach together the throne of grace of our beloved Savior and God of all?

Through the compassion and the tears, our approach to that throne should be unmistakeably joyful. There is so much in Scripture about joy - in fact, one of the very REASONS for Scripture is to give us fulness of joy (I John 1:4). We who lead the flock of God ought to be leading in joy as well as in soul-winning and doctrinal conviction. I know well the weight that rests upon a pastor's shoulders and heart. Fortunately, I know also the God who helps him lift it.

How can we rejoice in every situation? Because Christ is with us in every situation. Our joy is dependent only upon the Lord, not the circumstances -- it is, after all "the joy of the Lord." We are told to "rejoice in the Lord." I think this is simply enjoying our relationship with God. Since He is perfect, yet infinite, there are infinite pleasures in His companionship. There are no skeletons in His closet, no dangers and no risks save to our flesh in knowing Him more deeply. We are blessed literally beyond measure in having this relationship. Shouldn't we enjoy it?

And if we do not, should we not confess that as sin and plead that the Lord would restore to us the joy of our salvation? It's a command, after all.

So Nice to Talk without the Shouting

I had another post in the works, but things have gotten crazy around here because of Christmas ministry madness, and I wanted to mention something else anyhow. I've really been enjoying the conversation with author Bruce Baker in the comments thread of this post. Even if we never come to complete agreement on the subject, we have found much common ground, and I, for one, have been forced to carefully think through my position, the Scriptures I'm resting it on, and the implications of it. Thought like that is always a good thing.

It's a given that believers, even Fundamental believers, won't walk into every conversation agreeing with each other on every point. It should be a given that our mutual goals are the glory of God and all of us getting closer to Him. That means we need to be gracious in our communication with each other, especially where there are points of disagreement. I'm not talking about compromising on the fundamentals - I'm talking about discussing the Scriptures in a way that edifies all involved and all who see and hear. That doesn't mean ignoring the differences in viewpoints, but it does mean not shouting about them and descending into name-calling over them. It means discussing them with clarity and gentleness.

It's such a blessing to find other believers who view interaction about the Scriptures the same way. Conversations like this give me greater hope for Fundamentalism than even our apparent growth rate does.

What Is Christmas?

I'm becoming more convinced all the time that there are really two Christmases. They just happen to be celebrated around the same time of year.

The first is that one we celebrate by putting up manger scenes, singing "The First Noel," and talking about the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Then there's that other one, the one we celebrate by having lots of family we can barely stand over, singing "Jingle Bells," and maxing out credit cards in an attempt to buy a few moments of the illusion of love. (What, me, cynical? Nah.)

For the longest of times, I didn't realize they were two separate things. Fundamentalists have either been opposed to them both or viewed the secular one as a corruption of the sacred.

But I'm thinking more and more that they are two separate celebrations. One is God's people celebrating an immensely important Scriptural event with representations of that event (like manger scenes, gifts, and songs about the nativity). This one strikes me as a lot like the Jewish people celebrating Purim. There's no command in the New Testament that we celebrate Christmas, and there is no example of believers doing it. That doesn't make it wrong to commemorate such an important event in Scripture. God didn't command the Jews to celebrate the feast of Purim, yet they did it to glorify Him for the deliverance recorded in the book of Esther. (Of course, this means that if a believer doesn't want to celebrate Christmas, there's no obligation to do it, either - the Apostle Paul made that pretty clear.)

The second Christmas is not a Christian thing - it's a cultural thing. It's a celebration of family, winter, and goodwill. This strikes me as being a lot like the 4th of July. There's nothing in the Bible about July 4th. There are lots of people who go beyond what I think is Scriptural in their celebration of this great nation. Some use it as an excuse for drunkenness. Some go way too far in glorifying an earthly nation to the detriment of their true allegiance to the Kingdom of God. Some have turned the event into an exercise in bad theology, applying promises and commands to the United States that were really only given to the nation of Israel. Yet there's also nothing wrong with thanking the Lord for the nation He's placed us in, supporting its troops, and remembering its heritage. Just because some people abuse the holiday doesn't make it wrong for me to use it. That applies to Christmas - even the social aspects like the sleigh bell songs - just as much as it does to the 4th of July.

Of course, then we have to have a cage match, no holds barred, in 15 rounds over what to do about Santa Claus. Is it okay to tell the kids he's real when he's not? Is it better to encourage them to sneer at their poor misguided and deceived friends led astray by their parents?

I'm going with the "It's a bad idea to deliberately deceive your children" theory - but I don't get irate about a picture of Santa any more than I do a picture of a troll in a children's book. They're both pretend conventions of our society. Treated rightly, they're not wrong. The fact that they can be abused doesn't mean they should never be used.

So whichever Christmas you celebrate, I hope you enjoy it. If you celebrate the version of Christmas most Fundamentalists love, I hope you remember that Christ was born (though almost certainly not on Christmas day), and I hope you remember why He was born. I hope you remember that His birth has nothing to do with hot chocolate, Christmas trees, and how much money you spend on each other.

If you celebrate society's Christmas, have fun with your family, laugh at the clean shows, and leave your credit cards home when you go shopping. Just don't turn liberty into license, abusing that which you've got every right to use.

We Want God's Power... On Our Terms

The call came in around 2:30 AM. When the phone rings at that time of morning, as soon as the grogginess passes enough to realize that it's the phone, not the alarm clock or the fire alarm in a dream, even as the pastor stumbles out of the bed to grope for the phone, his heart is racing. His stomach feels like an alchemist's experiment in turning flesh to lead. It's never a good thing when someone calls much after 10 or much before 7.

In this case, the man on the other end was desperate. He was out of town, he'd been in a drunken brawl, and he had narrowly avoided getting put in jail. His drinking was wrecking his marriage and his life. I had only met him a time or two, but he had family who went to our church, and when he called them in the middle of the night, they told him that I truly wouldn't mind if he called me. His wife had been urging him to get into church and let God help him with the drinking, and he was finally ready to quit fighting the battle alone.

We set things up for him and his wife to come see me, and it became immediately apparent that the drinking wasn't the only problem. The dynamics of the relationship were unhealthy from top to bottom. We established that both of them had trusted Christ for salvation in years past, but they hadn't been in church or doing anything for the Lord in quite some time.

The man seemed serious about living for the Lord, and there was an immediate difference. He stepped away from the drinking completely, and he got into church. He started attending regularly and talking about being involved.

Then his wife put on the brakes. She'd wanted God to stop her husband from drinking. But she hadn't really wanted God to take over his life. Quite simply, she still wanted to run his life. She just wanted to use God as a tool to change something she wanted changed. She'd just signed up for a non-drunken husband, not one who wanted to go listen to God's Word and hang around with other Christians more than once a week. Why couldn't he just show up one Sunday morning a month for his God fix to keep him off the booze?

The guy was trying, he really was. But he adored his wife, and he'd been going along with her for the sake of peace and harmony for a long time. So when she wanted to go to a country music concert instead of church that time, he went along. And when she put a beer in his hand, he drank it. She decided she would rather take her chances with the alcohol than risk ceding control of her marriage and her husband's life to God.

I don't think they've been back to church since that concert. He is back to drinking, of course. The marriage is struggling, and I don't think either of them are happy.

God is not a tool. Yet so often, we think of Him that way (and by extension, Christ's body here on earth, the church). We want someone to change - but we only want them to change this specific detail. Sometimes it's ourselves we want to change. But God isn't just interested in changing details. He's in the business of transforming lives. When we're ready for that, He's able to do it. But He won't be used by anyone. He doesn't just want our cigarettes or our beer - He wants us. If we want His power in our lives, we're going to have to be willing to let Him control what He does with it.

I've Had It Up to Here with Anger

Fundamentalists often seem like angry people, don't they? That's certainly the steriotypical perception, and I'm afraid I've met some who reinforced that steriotype.

In fact, some of us are even proud of our anger. We call that good kind of anger "righteous indignation."

We're righteously indignant about the President wanting to use our tax money to murder babies. We're angry about the Muslims and their thousandth mosque in the U.S. We're angry about the New Evangelicals being willing to compromise the identity and work of Christ in the name of Christ. We're righteously indignant about the drug dealers and the pornographers and... well, pretty much anything that makes us mad, so long as we can justify the anger by saying the other person or group is sinning. If they're sinning in what they're doing, it's okay for us to be angry about it. Hey, God gets angry at sin, so shouldn't we?

Sometimes I think our movement's key verse is Ephesians 4:26a, "Be ye angry, and sin not." So long as we don't actually punch someone in the snoot or blow something up, isn't it okay to be angry, especially over sin? To listen to our preaching, sometimes, you'd think we actually have an obligation to be angry.

There's a tiny problem with all this anger that's flying around: the Bible. In our rush to excuse anger we think is justified, we've grabbed a magnifying glass and expanded Ephesians 4:26a so large we can't see the rest of the page.

What's on the rest of that page? Ephesians 4:31-32. "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Wait... we're supposed to put ALL wrath and anger away from ourselves? Yup, that's what it said.

Is that an aberration we should explain away, doing a little exegetical gymnastics to reinterpret it? Um, nope. Psalm 37:8 says, "Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil." In the preceding verse, it even tells us not to fret about people who bring wicked devices to pass. Rats... guess it's not okay for me to vent in anger over people, even if what they are doing is wrong.

In fact, as I perused the Scriptures, I couldn't find any situation in which God commanded an individual to be angry, nor could I find a case in which He commended a person for being angry, let alone acting in that anger.

Time and again, God warns against being hastily angry, acting in anger, or staying angry (that's the point of Ephesians 4:26 - we all feel anger sometimes, but we shouldn't let it linger or cause us to sin.) Yes, God acts in anger - God also enacts vengeance and seeks worship, neither of which belong to us.

Anger is fundamentally wanting to right a wrong, I think. It's being upset the world didn't work the way we thought it should, that someone didn't act the way we knew they should. But I'm not sure we have a "right" to that. Yes, people wrong us, sometimes. But ultimately, every sin is against God. He's the one who established the order of creation and gave the dictates of morality, not us. He has the right to be angry, to set right the wrongs, to expect the world to work as He desires. We don't. It's not our job to set things right - it's our job to do right.

We may experience anger as an emotion - but we ought not live in it or act on it.

God told us in James 1:20, "For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God." Yet I hear sermon after sermon that seems fueled by anger and wrath, rather than by compassion and love. Is it any wonder that people don't seem moved by the preaching at times, despite the energy poured into it and the eloquence exercised in it? When the energy is man's, the work accomplished is rarely God's.