God's love in action: "Family Promise" (addressing family homelessness)

Many humanitarian organizations have good intentions. Good intentions do not always translate into good results. The God's Love In Action series focuses on people or organizations that seem to be able to translate those good intentions into results. 

Family Promise is an organization that tackles a particular type of homelessness: when families with minor children become unable to maintain a home. Sometimes Family Promise manages to prevent evictions. Sometimes a family is placed with a church. (My own congregation participates in Family Promise, where any families currently in service literally stay in our building for a week before transferring to the next congregation, while members of the congregation arrange meals, help meet basic needs, and even spend the night in the facility with them. Families on the verge of homelessness can then have their food and shelter provided for free while they stabilize. 

Family Promise also has other services to make families more financially stable. There are expectations for the family to begin saving and to build enough of a financial cushion to weather a financial surprise. There is training in financial literacy. 

And there is a reasonable amount of success in stabilizing families who then return to self-sufficiency. Family Promise seems to have hit that workable blend of supporting people while equipping them for a responsible and dignified life. 

God's love in action: finding the approaches that work

Previously in the "God's love in action" series, I'd looked at how Habitat for Humanity works. Specifically, we focused on why their approach seems to be more successful than other approaches to the same problem. This post continues in the vein of looking at largescale solutions not only for good intentions, but for measurable success in tackling the problem. 

I have heard it said that, as Christians, we are not called to be successful; we are called to be faithful. But if "success" is measured in actually helping the people we intend to help, then part of being faithful includes being successful in actually helping people. If we get bad results, then good intentions will require us to try other approaches. 

We don't often think of 12-step groups as a Christian outreach program. But 100 years ago they were exactly that. The leaders in outreach to alcoholics were Christian ministries. And one particular program called "The Oxford Group" was the direct forerunner of Alcoholics Anonymous. 

There's still a lot of spiritual work to be done in addiction recovery. But it has resisted mass solutions, and so far people recover one person at a time. For those who recover successfully, there are several things vital to recovery: a wide support system constructed to provide regular face-to-face contact with people who will listen and care, a dedicated contact person who is more experienced and on call to offer guidance; a roadmap of how to lose the dysfunctional coping skills and gain experience with healthier ones; and the concept of individual responsibility as each person takes ownership for their own life. There is also an expectation that people will "pass it on" and be there for the next person who needs help. All that is woven into a framework where spirituality is welcome and religion is, for many, necessary. 

It surprised me at first to see some things in common between Habitat for Humanity and AA (and other 12-step programs). They both focus on re-attaching people to a community, re-attaching people to a support system. They both focus on learning individual responsibility, but not learning it alone or without help. They both take seriously the need for practice and experience with new skills, for guidance with expectations of growing responsibility. 

We live in a world where there is no shortage of good intentions, but few programs have good results. The approach of building a community with structured responsibility seems to have promise, and it might be worth applying it to other large-scale problems. We have plenty of them. 

Pursuing a knowledge of God, and pursuing godliness

Today, on Trinity Sunday, I am reminded of how eagerly we can pursue a knowledge of God, how thirsty we are for a deeper understanding of God. But the pictures we draw of God often pursue the lines of our curiosity, not the lines of his gifts and his self-disclosure. I am as prone to curiosity as the next person. But if I were to try to draw God based on Scripture taken as God's self-revelation, I might get something more like this: 

Let me be the first to say: It's incomplete, and could also use some editing for more appropriate parallels. With that out of the way, here is what it's trying to convey: 

The general form is ripples going out from the center, and the center is God. The rippling outward indicates God's reach throughout creation and specifically to the creatures who are made in God's image. Streaming out from God, we see water representing God's actions to cleanse us and renew us, foremost of which is the work of Christ; and flames representing the Spirit's presence with us. 

The center, God as the origin of all things, contains three attributes that come up as key in Scripture. At the center is "holy," as Scripture repeatedly says "Be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy." While it is God's attribute first, it is something that he means for us to share. At one side is "mercy," where Scripture tells us to be merciful as our Father in heaven is merciful (again, a key attribute that God means for us to share with him). On the other side is "wisdom," where Scripture tells us that the wisdom of God is communicated to us by the Spirit of God: wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, fear of the Lord (reverence), joy in his presence. Once again, this is an attribute God means for us to share. 

At the top are the well-known gifts of the Spirit: faith, hope, and love. At the bottom we see the fruits of the Spirit. 

The graphic has some significant shortcomings (beyond the amateur art): though it is already crowded enough, still "Jesus" and "the Holy Spirit" are not explicitly named anywhere. That is not a small shortcoming, and so I can consider this to be a not-quite-beta version of the drawing, since it requires reading the accompanying text to get to material that is so vital. 

For all that it lacks, there are many passages of Scripture that could be explained with reference to this visual, where the authors are saying: God is this way, he is transforming us to be like him. 

If on Trinity Sunday I find myself drawing three circles to describe the person and work of God, these  particular three circles show how God's character has ripple-effects in our lives. The traits I would most focus on today are the ones he wants to share with us. The work of the Word and Spirit are to bring exactly that fellowship -- and transformation -- into our lives. 

Thank you for your patience with this series, now concluded. Several of my other series over the years have been driving at the same point. Related series include On being like God, and Rethinking the Shape of the Trinity, of which the most closely-related post in the series is part 4, which originally appeared in the Trinity Blogging Summit in 2009. 

The power of God's nature

(Next-to-last post in the current series)

So far we have looked at various passages in which the "Spirit of God" and "Word of God" are used in ways that can test our assumptions about them. 

First, the New Testament authors really do speak as if they mean it literally that God's Spirit is the spirit that comes to live in us, giving us new life. Consider St Paul here, speaking while the literal Temple in Jerusalem still stood, where the presence of God was expected to dwell: 

"Don't you know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" (1 Corinthians 3:16)

Again, consider the New Testament authors speaking as if the spiritual life is new in a way that leaves us immature, where three different letters, generally understood to be by three different authors, all pick up "milk" as a metaphor to point out immaturity or tender new life: 

"I fed you with milk, not solid food" (Paul, 1 Corinthians 3:2)

"You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child." (Hebrews 5:12-13)

"Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk (1 Peter 2:2)

The New Testament authors speak as if our Christian walk is not so much a matter of needing more information, and more a matter of living according to the character and spirit of God. In the New Testament epistles, Sts. John, Peter, and Paul all address our character coming to be like God's character not because we studied or tried hard enough, but because we have a fundamental connection to God who is like that: 

Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure. (1 John 3:2-3)

"as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” (1 Peter 1:16 )

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-23)

And of course the apostles' teaching in this matter follows Jesus' own teaching. We often read Jesus' teaching as if he is saying to try really hard to be perfect. But again we see Jesus basing his teaching on children being like their father: 

"But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. 

For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 

You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:44-48)

Only one entry left in the current series. Thank you for your patience! 

The power of God's word, and how the messenger may need to get out of the way

Because the Word of God affects us in different ways, I want to be sure to make my point without detracting from other ones that could be made. 

For example, the word of God can be strikingly beautiful. We can feel the way certain words fill our soul with a longing for holiness, or an awe and reverence for the majesty of God's creative power. When the word of God is beautiful, that beauty goes beyond shallow appearance, instead fulfilling the promise of beauty as the marker of its deeper source, like a tree in a desert that signals the presence of water. And again, the word of God can be wise with a wisdom that makes us pause, requires us to expand our thinking and return to it with humility. 

That needs saying before I move onto how Paul communicated about the power of the Word of God. There are times when words of beauty and eloquence are a distraction. There are times when we hear wisdom and power that come from the art of rhetoric, pointing (at best) to human wisdom. While we love and pursue wisdom, the highest form of it is not man-made. 

And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. (1 Corinthians 2:1-5)

Paul focuses on "Jesus Christ and him crucified" as the message of God's power. Paul was concerned that any eloquence or artistry could leave people doubting. That is, they might not doubt whether they believed but why they believed. Is Paul just a persuasive speaker, or is the message itself powerful? Paul got out of the way of the message: Christ crucified is the message of the power of God. 

Paul continues the message of the power of God by describing the work of the Spirit, too: 

But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”— these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit. For the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. For who knows a person's thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him? So also no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. (1 Corinthians 2:9-12)

This is not often how we speak of the Spirit of God, as simply the spirit within God that knows the inner thoughts of God in the same way our spirit within us knows our thoughts. Paul explains that spirit within God, knowing the mind of God, is the same Spirit we receive so "that we might understand the things freely given us by God." 

Here Paul comes very close to the point that Jesus made when speaking to Nicodemus of the importance the Spirit of God as a living and active force in our own lives and our own understanding. 

(Two more posts are planned to wrap up the current series: a post on the Holy Spirit planned for next week on Pentecost, and the ultimate point of the series planned for the following week on Trinity Sunday.)

Jesus' teaching on new life in the Gospel of John

(Continuing the current series ...)

Matthew, Mark, and Luke all repeat at least some of Jesus' parables of the seed, but the entire Gospel of John has no seed parables at all. There is majority agreement that the Gospel of John was the last written of the four gospels in the canon of Scripture. In some ways it skips (or assumes) material covered by the earlier gospels. And so rather than telling us about the disciples hearing parables and later asking questions in private, the fourth gospel tells us about one of the Jewish leaders visiting Jesus at night to ask questions in private. Here the Gospel of John recounts Jesus' teaching about the new life: 

Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” 

Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother's womb and be born?” 

Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’  (John 3:3-7)

I know some televangelists gave the phrase "born again" a bad taste by using it in a way that seemed fairly far from Jesus' original spirituality. But Jesus' point remains -- as does his choice of description. We are not in need of an information transfer from God. Instead we are in need of a life transfusion, a spirit transfusion. We are born of flesh, and flesh is perishable. To be children of God, we need a spiritual life -- not in the sense of an emotional life, not as a euphemism for an intellectual life, but the particular type of spiritual life that brings the Spirit of God to us as a living force in our own lives. 

The power of the Word of God: Jesus' parables of the seeds

When Peter described us as being born of imperishable seed from the Word of God, that was not an innovation on his part. Jesus often equated the word of God with seeds. 

Probably the best-known instance is the parable of the sower, recorded in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Mark and Luke's retellings make the point plainly: 

Now the parable is this: The seed is the Word of God. (Jesus, Luke 8:11)

The sower sows the word. (Jesus, Mark 4:14)

Matthew's retelling does not introduce a single central saying that what is sown is the word, instead including that in the explanation of each of the four types of the soil, as someone who "hears the word and ...", each time equating what is sown with the word. 

Jesus tells other parables in which the the point of the parable is carried by focusing on a seed. Matthew has an entire collection of parables of either seed or small living things that grow or multiply (the sower, the wheat and the tares, the mustard seed, the yeast) to describe how the kingdom of God takes root and grows. 

For anyone reading, I appreciate the patience with the slow build here. There are too many individual parts to cover them all at the same time without the individual points being lost in the list of points. 

The power of the Word of God is not in information: continuing with St John

This continues a short series on the power of the Word of God. 

As a short recap of the prior post: When we look at words we are accustomed to looking for their meaning, and with good reason: words are typically meant to carry meaning. But in the previous post we reviewed St Peter's claims about the Word of God, where his argument did not depend on the content of God's Word but on the character of God's Word: God's word is imperishable and God's word is holy, so as it takes root in us we are reborn -- not as creatures of more information, but as creatures of different character, with holiness and the hope of an incorruptible new nature. To be sure, gaining knowledge -- or better yet, wisdom -- is worthwhile. So there is a temptation to define our spiritual growth in terms of gaining information, while St Peter's argument suggests that our growth is in gaining holiness or godliness. Peter also frames his argument that our growth is in a new life received from God's Word, where that new life is not received as information but as a seed. 

St Peter is not the only New Testament writer who speaks of the Word of God in unexpected terms. St John begins his gospel with an extended passage building up to how "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us ... full of grace and truth" (John 1:14). So John also speaks of the Word of God in ways that challenge our assumptions about the Word of God. This passage in John's gospel has long been key to the Christian understanding of Christ having an existence long before the Word became flesh and lived among us. 

Again in John's writing the Word of God is portrayed less as information and more as creative force and source of life. Here we find some dispute over the translation ("him" or "it" to refer to the Word). Let me offer a translation that could be read without red-flagging by either side of that particular dispute: 

All things were made by the same (Word), and without the same there was not made anything that was made. In the same was life, and the life was the light of men. (John 1:4)

Land where you will on the best pronoun to use for the Word, it's not up for dispute that the passage describes the Word as a creative force bringing life and light. 

Again in John's writing, the key property of the Word of God is not the information carried, but the generation of new life. 

More to come, but in reasonable-sized steps. 

The power of the Word of God is not rhetorical: Let's start with St Peter

When we think about powerful words, we may think of rhetoric: skillful persuasion. There is a tendency to think of evangelism and even faith itself in terms of persuasion. To be sure, persuasion done well can help build understanding and overcome barriers. But the power is not wholly in persuasion, not even in the skill of the persuader. The Bible often discusses the power of God's word in terms that go beyond persuasion, and are not even in the same category as persuasion. In this post I'll look at St Peter. 

Peter writes about the word of God in terms that moderns instinctively, unconsciously reinterpret. Consider when he says

you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God; for “All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.” And this word is the good news that was preached to you. (1 Peter 1:23-25)

Peter quotes an older scripture contrasting things that are failing and decaying -- grass, flowers, human flesh -- and what is imperishable: the word of God. Peter's point is not simply that the word of God is imperishable, but that this imperishable quality in God's word is what matters when we are born again, because this is how some of God's attributes become our own. 

To take Peter's points in an order we might expect to construct an argument, he says: 

1. the word of God is imperishable, 
2. this same word of God was preached to them, causing them to be born again, and so 
3. they are born again of what is imperishable. 

Parts of this argument are often taken as analogy, simile, or metaphor. But there is no sign in the text that he meant it as analogy, or simile, or metaphor. The argument has no force if one part is meant literally (they did have the good news preached to them in words), but the bridges back to his wider focus -- that we now have an imperishable aspect to us -- are mere rhetorical flourishes. 

The Scriptural language of being "born again" and "children of God" speak of a change of nature in which we are no longer merely beings of flesh and children of men, but also children of God. We easily assume that what is spiritual is figurative, because we often must speak of the spiritual figuratively. But if we speak of the spiritual connection between our spirits and the Spirit of God, we must consider the possibility that this connection from spirit to Spirit is not merely figurative. If an author means to convey that God is with us and transforms us in a way that touches our natures, what language could he use to persuade us it was more than figurative? 

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I'm feeling a series coming on. I hope to continue this next week. 

Evil as "lack of good" is only part of the story

In Christian circles, evil has long been understood as the lack of good. Evil, we believe, is not a thing in itself, much like darkness is not a thing in itself but the absence of light. 

So far so good. But nature abhors a vacuum. When there is a lack of good, the vacancy does not remain empty. When a nation lacks god, it tends to create idols. If it lacks faith in any god, humans do not stop having a need for hope and trust. We may place that hope and trust in other things, or we may opt for cynicism, but the unmet need is going to make itself known either way. Love can also be replaced by different substitutes. The non-religious often consider sex to be the most available substitute for love, and hope that one will lead to the other. The religious (or the checklist-oriented seculars) may fall back on a dependency on rules, and so legalism becomes a cold substitute for love. 

This vacuum-effect plays out in so many ways. Someone may need respect -- and decide to buy the appearance of success, or pursue relative respect by congratulating themselves or putting down others. Someone may want a sense of well-being and obtain it through spending, or self-medication. Someone may want a life full of friends, and fill the emptiness by binge-watching content designed to camouflage emotional emptiness and fill it with the company of phantom friends. 

But the substitutes tend to leave us hungry for the real thing. Faith, hope, and love remain. The greatest of these is love. 

Today, may I notice if I have been using an artificial sweetener in my spiritual life, and seek the Lord. 

And on the third day ...

On Good Friday, we have a solemn service in remembrance of Jesus' death. And we do achieve solemnity. But we probably do not come anywhere close to the devastation and grief that the apostles felt when they first laid Jesus in the tomb. 

Because for whatever solemnity we observe on Friday, we likely have already made some preparations for the feast on Sunday. 

Whenever in life I find myself at the tomb, caught up in the devastation and grief, may I remember Good Friday -- and how hard it is to be overwhelmed with defeat when we are looking forward to a victory feast. 

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Schrodinger's Theology

This is a conversational response to a post over at Ken Schenck's blog, "The war of the 2 natures". As Mr Schenck writes, "After reading about the crazy battles that resulted in what we now call orthodoxy, there seem two possible conclusions: 1) God was behind the scenes making sure the right answers won out or 2) it's all a crap shoot and orthodox Christianity is a sham." I don't think that either of those statements represents the actual situation in which we find ourselves. To make this post accessible I'll back up the conversation enough to be self-introducing ... 

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Knowing God may be the highest goal of human thought. And there are countless people who have sought knowledge of God in nature, in meditation, from prophets or even from the Messiah, and (in absence of these) from holy texts. But eventually we come to a problem: after we run through all the material that we can learn from those sources, we have some questions that none of our sources directly answers. We may get hints or glimpses. We may get likelihood. We may even get strong probability. But once we have gone beyond what is spelled out by trusted materials, we rarely get certainty. I'll come back to this point as I wrap up. 

This isn't a new thought to the modern age; even in the apostolic age St Paul wrote that "we see through a glass, darkly." While that won't stop us trying to see, it rightly leads to humility about the precision of our speculations. It's like the recognition of significant digits in science: it's not right to claim a precision that outpaces our data. (Deeper dive on that.) 

With the common claim that "the winners write the history books," is the underlying cynicism justified in the case of Christian beliefs? What do we make of the early controversies in the church? 

I'd like to look at some of the ways in which the church has approached questions, going from more conclusive to less conclusive: 

• Some questions were addressed by Jesus during his earthly ministry. Almost all Christians consider these to be definitive answers. 
• Some questions were addressed by the apostles during their lifetimes. Since they knew Jesus in person, these are often considered definitive answers, especially when the answers were included in the canon of Scripture. Granted, some groups allow variation for how firmly various New Testament writings are accepted, with some groups having different status for the once-disputed books of the New Testament from the days when the canon of Scripture was still under review. 
• Some questions are addressed directly by Scripture and there is only one view in Scripture. 
• Some questions had clear and widespread support from the earliest church while the opposing view was a late-introduced novelty. There was an ancient test whether beliefs had been held "everywhere, always, and by all," with the understanding that there could be asterisks for outliers, while providing a framework to objectively identify those outliers. 
• Some questions are not addressed directly by Scripture, and are instead inferred. These are answered based on a preponderance of evidence from Scripture and compatibility with known facts. 
• And some controversies are not answered directly by Scriptures, and the preponderance of evidence is not clean or not conclusive. 

From the earlier approaches, the church of Christ has a great body of teachings which are held solidly, without being open to the charge that it's merely a winner's privilege. 

In the later categories we get into more contested territory. This tends to happens when we are asking questions that Scripture never directly addresses, for example the relationship of the human and divine within Christ. It is especially problematic when we are asking questions that Jesus never addressed, that were never considered during the apostolic age, and where the earliest church is silent. In these cases we are left with a handful of tangential verses as we try to infer where they lead, with little to no guidance from trusted sources. I'll come back to that. 

Mr Schenck notes that "[t]he century between Nicaea (325) and Chalcedon (451) primarily argued over the two natures of Christ". I've mentioned before that I mark Chalcedon (451 A.D.) as the date when the "one holy catholic and apostolic church" became damaged; as a result the answers to those doctrinal questions (and new questions since) have been problematic. (Deeper dive on that.) After Chalcedon, those particular points of orthodoxy were upheld less by consensus and more by risk of excommunication. In my opinion, that is the point at which we ought to have admitted we outran our data, and come back to "seeing through a glass darkly." I would not say that every view advanced on the topic held equal validity; some views ultimately might have been considered out-of-bounds. But there is room for a collegial approach where the School of Alexandria has one view and the School of Rome holds another, on how the human and divine interact. 

To go back to the point I mentioned at the outset: We have some questions that none of the holy texts directly answers. We may get hints or glimpses. We may get likelihood. We may even get strong probability. But beyond what is spelled out by trusted materials, we no longer get certainty. The issue to me is not whether the right or wrong arguments won out; it's why we define "orthodoxy" so much in terms of issues that are beyond the scope of what we were given, where there is no indication that either Christ or his apostles considered the question (as we frame it) important. The problem goes deeper than whether we have the right answers to the questions we are asking. I'm fairly sure our relentless pursuit of non-Scriptural questions means we are not pursuing the best questions. 

Knowing God may be the highest goal of human thought. But are we pursuing that knowledge through how God has revealed himself, and letting his self-revelation set the curriculum for what we learn? What would happen if we tried? I believe we are called to the theology that Christ has taught, and the orthodoxy that the apostles proclaimed. 

"The abundance of the heart" for good or evil

How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. (Matthew 12:34)

There were people who had seen Jesus heal a man who was blind and mute, and saw that Jesus had driven out a demon from the man. So Jesus' opponents accused that he was demonic, to explain why he had power over the demons. Did they believe themselves and their accusations? Only God knows that. I suspect that the decision to be "against" whatever Jesus did put them in a tough spot: they had to oppose whatever he did. 

This is the conversation in which Jesus reminds us: we know a tree by its fruit. The surrounding material is "A tree is known by its fruit.... The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil." (Matthew 12:35)

In the face of a miraculous good, the response of his opponents was an accusation of absolute evil. This pattern isn't uncommon, when evil accuses those who do good. Someone whose own conscience is uneasy may produce a steady stream of accusations against others. And the easily misled will be misled. 

When we say that someone "speaks from the heart" we generally mean they speak honestly and earnestly. Yet it is possible that someone can be honestly and earnestly a mess. 

"Speaking from the heart" reveals the heart. And our human hearts are not always an oasis of love. Whenever we dwell on fear or anger, we tend to speak words of fear or anger. Whenever we think too much of our own value, we speak too much of our own value. Whenever we think about enmity towards other people, we tend to speak about enmity toward other people. It's not as if our thoughts and words are far separate. 

Or as St Paul once said to identify better things and "think on these things." (Philippians 4:8)

Recognizing the strategies of evil, the better to resist it

In the season of Lent, we turn to resisting the powers of evil. I'd like to start by surveying some tools and strategies of evil that we see in the Bible: 

1. Deception - whether outright lies, half-truths, or omissions, the intent is to mislead (see Genesis 3). As Jesus said of the devil: Lies are his native language (John 8:44).
2. Confusion - a half-truth can be more confusing than an outright lie (see Genesis 3). While an outright lie might lead to the target shutting down the conversation or walking away, a half-truth can lead to a follow-up conversation and leaves the door open. Paul points out that God is not the author of confusion (1 Cor 14:33)
3. Doubt - the goal may be to create doubt about someone's allegiance or intentions (again, see Genesis 3). 
4. Enmity and divisions - Following from the prior point (Genesis 3), doubt about someone's allegiance or intentions creates a division. Jesus is clear that he desires our unity (John 17). 
5. Accusations - One of the titles of the evil one is the Accuser (Revelation 12:10). It is an ironic thing when evil brings a temptation but then blames their victim if the temptation succeeds. When we see someone who has taken the bait of temptation, we are called to restore them gently and privately (Matthew 18:15-20). 
6. Some calamities - In the book of Job, we see that some calamities are to bring the temptation to fall away from trusting God
7. Other general temptations - Genesis 3 is not the only time we see the powers of evil bringing temptation. In the New Testament we see the tempter with Jesus in the wilderness (Matthew 4, Mark 1, Luke 4), starting off with the simple temptation to be self-serving with powers that are given him for the service of others. 

There are probably more. Feel free to add more in the comments! 

The faces of evil

This past Monday I was called for jury duty, which normally makes for an uninteresting morning in the jury pool followed by (usually) a week on call or (sometimes) a trip to a courtroom for voir dire, in which some lawyer (usually the prosecutor) decides they don't want a professional programmer/analyst on the jury. 

On Monday, the immense size of the potential-juror pool was the first sign of a high-stakes case. In round numbers, 100 of us were packed into the courtroom. The trial was for murder, and was legally a capital murder case because the victim was under 10 years of age. (That's based on the cutoff age in state law; the victim was roughly a year and a half old.) The state was not seeking the death penalty so the other allowable consequence under state law was life in prison. 

Whenever sitting through voir dire, it's interesting to focus on which arguments the lawyers are test driving. Clearly, the defense was arguing insanity. The defense seemed to be trying to carry the argument by shifting the mood to a blameless acceptance of an unfortunate tragedy, with the main tool being the defense attorney's stage presence. The defendant's unremorseful face wasn't helping the defense lawyer. When the defense lawyer asked the jury pool which of us simply did not care about the reason why a toddler was killed, I raised my juror number card -- I had plenty of company in that -- and was disqualified from the case. (Under state law, the insanity defense requires that at the time the actions took place, the person did not understand that the actions were wrong. If the defendant did not understand that that was wrong, that seemed possibly worse. A good percentage of the jury pool was disqualified for having that opinion.) 

As the non-selected jurors like me were dismissed, I had a lot of time to consider the faces of evil. The defendant who seemed unremorseful. The defense attorney who seemed cheerfully, craftily misleading,  and who seemed openly impatient when the prosecutor and judge had to call her back to the legal side of what she was allowed to say to the jury pool. The whispers in the jury pool about how unfortunate that the death penalty hadn't been sought and whether anything could be done for justice. My own growing feeling that, if the death penalty had been available, I might have been okay with that, even with the awareness that self-righteousness is one of the most common "winning" temptations for truly horrific acts. 

There is no one righteous; no, not one. 

The jury did return a conviction at the end of the week-long trial. That may be the closest to justice we can manage as mortals. 

Toolkit of verses for my own temptations

Last week's post reviewed the verses that Jesus employed to rebuke the tempter. 

My own temptations are different. Of course I'm as much at risk of temptation as any person is. Still I am confident that the tempter will never try to goad me to turn stones to bread or offer me the kingdoms of the world. 

So what are my own common temptations? What verses would I want to call to mind for the temptations I am likely to face? 

1. The temptation to over-rely on knowledge, or to consider it the most worthwhile thing for me to develop: 
   Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. (I Corinthians 8:1)
   
   
2. The temptation to overvalue work, and to undervalue rest: 
   In six days you shall do all your work, and on the seventh you shall rest. (Exodus 20:9-10)
   
   If ever I faced the opposite temptation, to overvalue rest and undervalue work, it would also be a suitable verse. 
   
   
3. The temptation to anxiety about the future: 
   And who among you, by being anxious, can add a single hour to his life? (Matthew 6:27)
   
   
4. The temptation to resentment about ill-treatment, especially from people from whom I could (by relation) hope for fairness. 
   Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord. (Psalm 19:14)

I expect it would be a good practice for me to review what temptations I've faced each day, and review the places where I'm taught to fend it off. 

The illusion of being alone in temptation

It's fairly well-known among Christians that Jesus fended off temptations by quoting the Torah. Here's a brief summary of the temptations recorded in Luke 4:

Temptation #1

After 40 days' fast in the wilderness, to use his power as Son of God to feed himself. 

Jesus' response: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God." 

Temptation #2

To be handed the kingdoms of the world, with power and glory, in return for worshiping the tempter. 

Jesus' response: "You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve."

Temptation #3

In which the devil quotes Scripture to tempt Jesus to test God's providence. 

Jesus' response: "You shall not tempt the Lord your God." 

It is some comfort that Jesus' only tool in defeating Satan was the Scripture -- even just the book of Deuteronomy, which is in some ways a recap of what had gone before in the Torah. But I've felt stumped how or why Jesus chose those particular verses. Of course there is always the plain fact that Jesus' knowledge of Scripture is infinitely above my own, that he is the Christ. And of course they're apt verses to meet the occasion. But on the sense that I was still missing something, a context-check of those quotes shows some things that I had not noticed before. 

After the temptation to turn stones into bread after 40 days in the wilderness, the verse that Jesus quotes is from a passage about how God did not provide bread during Israel's 40 years in the wilderness, and yet He did provide for them. In Jesus' temptation in the wilderness, his situation was similar to Israel's journey in the wilderness: 

And you shall remember the whole way that the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. (Deuteronomy 8:2-3)

Israel entered the wilderness as refugees and were humbled and tested for 40 years. But they didn't eat bread. They left having received God's word. They were transformed in the wilderness to a people with a calling, a vocation, bearers of the Word of God, people of a covenant. 

The tempter then promises to Jesus kingdoms and power, honor and glory, in return for his worship. The verse that Jesus quotes in response calls back to how Israel left the wilderness ready to take possession of kingdoms that others had prepared: 

 And when the LORD your God brings you into the land that he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give you—with great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant—and when you eat and are full,  then take care lest you forget the LORD, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.  It is the LORD your God you shall fear. Him you shall serve and by his name you shall swear. You shall not go after other gods, the gods of the peoples who are around you. (Deuteronomy 6:10-14)

By the time of Jesus' temptation, Israel had lost the promised land to more than one set of conquerors by bowing down to other gods besides the LORD. Anything gotten wrongly, or kept unworthily, cannot be kept forever. 

For the final temptation, the tempter borrows Scripture as well, but uses it against God's purposes. In reply Jesus quotes a passage that follows quickly after the one above: 

You shall not put the LORD your God to the test, as you tested him at Massah. (Deuteronomy 6:16)

The context-check for Jesus' chosen verses made it clearer to me how those verses carried messages not just of standing up against temptation, but of reprising Israel's temptations -- and our own. That is, it built an awareness of how my temptations are like others throughout time, and how that likeness can open doors to resist that temptation in ways it has been resisted before. I think everyone who has read the Old Testament is aware of Israel's struggles in the wilderness. Jesus' replies to the tempter show me how the writings of the Old Testament can be useful in my own struggles. Given that in my own struggles I will be imperfect. But in those struggles, Scripture also teaches that I am not as alone as I may think. 

The profanity of our culture v. the kingdom of God

I expect it's hardly news that western Christian culture has been enduring systematic attack for some time. Public opposition to Christianity has often taken shape as rudeness, crudeness, raunchiness, and above all mockery. I could develop that point further, but anyone who reads this is already on the internet; enough said. 

This desert landscape of pop culture leaves people desperate for something better. So this same cultural wasteland, seen from another vantage point, is an opportunity of epic proportions. Here are a few ways that Christians can help bring the kingdom of God closer to our homelands: 

1. A break from nastiness
   Cruelty is contagious. When we associate with each other, it's disturbingly easy to normalize each others' sins. Many sins have a certain social contagion to them, whether it's habitual anger or arrogance, habitual fear or fury. Are our own spirits rooted deeply enough in God so that we can stand fast? 
2. A return to personal connection
   It's easy to blame the internet for the decrease of personal connection because it's so easy to see. But there are other factors like tribalism, or the sheer scale of the modern world in which it is easy to be lost in a crowd. Hospitality -- the art of creating occasions to build relationships -- is worth reclaiming. The entry price for a closer connection is often as small as remembering what was bothering someone last time we spoke, and seeing if that's any better. Those are just two possible implementations of God's call that we love each other. Which leads us to ...
3. Restoration of love
   The "bar-hop" culture, along with over-sexualization of relationships, has led to less emphasis on love, or mislabeling it. We can bring a fuller idea of love as human connection,  as knowing and valuing other human beings, as having compassion and understanding for each other. This is one of the places where God has called us to excel. As the church has said for many centuries, "Knowledge becomes love."
4. Restoration of beauty
   Our culture is lacking in good aesthetics. Art, architecture, and literature are often intentionally unattractive, even in ways that are unrealistic. When positive aesthetics are attempted, they are often either commercial or cartoonish. J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis showed what a mature sense of beauty can do to capture the imagination and delight the heart. If art is someone's field, we can proclaim God's goodness through making goodness visible in our world. 
5. Restoration of integrity
   Few things are more necessary to relationships -- to real human connections -- than integrity. But honesty, faithfulness, and humility -- some of the key components of integrity -- are in short supply. The more we cultivate these in ourselves -- and refuse to be shamed for them -- the more people may recognize the value of godliness. 
6. The existence of forgiveness
   Our culture has substituted permissiveness for mercy. Rather than say someone is forgiven, there is a general view that there is no standard and no wrongdoing, or that the standard/wrongdoing paradigm only applies to those in a disfavored group. And so there are no guardrails for common decency (see previous), and no path to redemption if a modern taboo is crossed. Genuine mercy is relatively rare in our culture. The extension of forgiveness -- and the willingness to treat a transgressor as still human -- distinguishes God's way from the world's way. 

I'd be interested to hear other thoughts on ways in which the ills of society actually make it easier for our light to shine to the glory of God. 

God's Love in Action: Habitat for Humanity

It has been years since I've posted on worthy charities, and I wanted to add to that. As affordable housing is often a concern, I think Habitat for Humanity has earned a good reputation for their work in this field. Beyond that, they have a pattern worth re-using for other needs as well. 

One of the problems with "charity" is that it has come to mean money, where originally it meant love. There are people who have problems with money; very often they would benefit from the investment of someone's time and compassion. 

Of the different approaches to affordable housing, one of the notable successes has been Habitat for Humanity. They are one of the few groups that recognize the problem is not simply financial. The transition from renter to homeowner often involves missing skills, missing habits of responsibility and accountability; Habitat for Humanity actively addresses these gaps. Their model of helping involves the new homeowners in ways that build the peoples' missing skills and the often-missing sense of value and accomplishment. The perception that the new homeowners are co-workers, participants in society, is a different feeling than being recipients of "charity" (money). By design, they are receiving human involvement. 

As necessary as money is in the modern economy, it seems to be the case that human involvement (love) is more transformative than money. 

"Honor your father and mother" vs Going no-contact with parents

There is a trend being promoted by some psychologists for young adults to cut all contact with parents: don't visit, don't call, don't text, don't respond. This is not general advice for all young adults, but for those whose parents are labeled as toxic, immature, or narcissistic. A few months ago a video from Oprah gave space to one of the psychologists leading the charge for children to go no-contact with their aging parents. A counter-argument in Psychology Today pointed out that what was being welcomed as growth was estrangement, and that it denied the idea of an obligatory parent/child relationship. 

I don't believe that "Honor your father and mother" came up in discussion when I watched the Oprah video. Likewise "Honor your father and mother" was not mentioned in the response in Psychology Today. On the one hand, why would psychologists bring up the Ten Commandments and enter into the realm of spirituality and faith? But here we can see true advantages in religion -- yes, organized religion, complete with shared expectations that are not optional. Religion brings a social contract, an essential element of a functioning society. 

The social fabric is messy, complicated, and built one relationship at a time. It takes work. The social fabric is also necessary even at the psychological level. People who lack a sense of belonging tend to have serious struggles with life happiness. When psychologists normalize breaking off key relationships, it is not always to the benefit of the client that they would help. 

What about those parents who actually are immature, narcissistic, or toxic? There are a number of us whose childhoods were marred by parenting that was worse than indifferent. Labeling the parents as a problem is not always too hasty or too convenient; it can also be too true. I speak as someone with experience dealing with parents who had more than the typical faults. I had a brother who went no-contact with the harsher parent, to the extent possible. The result was not his growth and peace but empowering the unhealed wounds to isolate him still. 

The premise of much popular psychology is that a person's primary duty is to their own personal happiness and well-being. Even if we allow that premise for this conversation, the "cut and run" approach can deprive the adult children of learning how to stand up for themselves, learning to define and redefine relationships to insist on the healthy respect due to an adult. It cuts off opportunities to learn and practice a relationship of equals, and to gain that necessary adult skill of insisting on fairness and respect in mature relationships. 

It can be tricky to rebuild the adult-child relationship when both parties are adults. The habit of power with the parent may show up as disrespect for the adult children when the now-adult children need to claim responsibility over their own lives. But this transition to full adults is not optional, and claiming agency in the relationship is not a developmental milestone we can afford to skip. 

For those of us with challenging parents, going no-contact can deprive us of learning how to find our voice and redefine the relationship, and the related practice of steering a relationship onto a healthier course. The lack of those relationship skills can take a toll on those who go no-contact. 

There may be a time and a place to take a break from a family relationship. But a permanent rupture has its own price tag of leaving the wounds unhealed, the skills unlearned, the power to redefine it unclaimed. 

"Honor your father and mother" may not be easy. And it does not mean tolerating abuse. But there is a place in the conversation for leveling up our own skills so that each side is treated with honor and respect. 

Scott Adams' deathbed profession of faith

On the day of Scott Adams' death, he had arranged for a video to be released in which he professed his faith in Christ. 

From one perspective it was surprising: someone who for years had made no secret of his disbelief (antagonism?) toward faith was at the last minute saying that he accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord, at the urging of Christian friends to accept Christ before his death, and so he did. From another perspective it was calculated, and Adams gave voice to that: with a cost/benefit analysis like that, with such a risk/return ratio, it seemed to him worthwhile to profess faith at that time. It was a no-loss proposition. From another angle, it left the appearance of an investor timing his trade: sell stock in 'earth', buy stock in 'heaven'. What's a rational observer to make of all this? 

Minding our own business is a guideline that's worthwhile to keep. I won't be judging his actions, claiming to know his motives, or presuming to gauge his level of sincerity. Likewise, I think we have no business speculating on whether God accepted his profession of faith. God knows his heart and we don't. Neither is there any gain in pointing out sins; Adams has 100% of humanity for company there, and Christ teaches us to go easy on pointing out the sins of others unless we want to find ourselves similarly judged. My part is to bless God's name for creating Scott Adams, and to thank Scott Adams' memory for a career that was characterized by humor and insight. 

The thing that interests me is the timing of the profession of faith -- not because it's unique to Scott Adams' death, but because it's not. This is hardly the first deathbed conversion in history; I've met someone who has that in his pocket as a bucket-list plan. And to some extent the timing makes worldly sense: it's natural to value earthly things less when we can no longer hold onto them, and to value things of the spirit more when they're all we have left. 

And yet that's not quite the calculation we see in many deathbed conversions, Adams' included. Part of the reason people make that calculation on their deathbed is not simply that its urgency is undeniable; there can also be an assessment that we are unwilling to commit while we still have time left on earth. We see it even in professed Christians delaying when they are willing to give up a pet sin. We can postpone the moment when our faith affects our lives until it affects as little as possible. 

When we commit to Jesus as our Lord, we have to change. Humor has to lose its meanness. Sex has to be re-united with love and faithfulness. Affection has to be freed from self-interest. Service has to separate from self-promotion or influence-seeking. Achievement has to lose its one-upmanship. All kinds of things have to become more wholesome versions of themselves, but oh do we enjoy the alloys. And some things like fault-finding have to be given up altogether. We hesitate to commit because we love our sins, and would gladly postpone the moment when we admit what they are. So we convince ourselves that it's fine to be mean, unloving, self-seeking, self-promoting, and so forth, and the actual problem is that God wants us to love our neighbors. That can wait, we persuade ourselves. 

Is there any down-side risk to waiting to convert at the last minute? I believe that's the wrong ultimate question, but I'll mention my thoughts on it before moving on. Many people die unexpectedly; even a sincerely-planned future repentance might become a missed opportunity. And then, if the repentance is intentionally postponed for love of the sin, there is some risk that we aren't quite sincere, if we postpone until there is no earthly test remaining precisely because we would prefer to keep the fault. Best to admit that we're fond of -- even dependent on -- the faults that we use to make our lives more bearable, even if they tend to backfire. 

There is another cost of waiting til death is imminent to take hold of faith, which is walking through the whole of life without it. Postponing faith assumes it interferes with life instead of enriching it. But those who live most deeply in their faith find peace that passes understanding, and the unexpected gift of insight into the mind of God -- and the heart of God. The supposed burden that we avoid by waiting turns out to be loving God with heart, soul, mind, and strength, and loving our neighbors as ourselves. That is a goal that we could rationally, eagerly take up, worthy of a life-long pursuit. It is compatible with any honest and useful vocation. And it makes our lives more genuinely cherishable and worthy of savoring. 

If a deathbed conversion is the plan, if a deathbed confession is worthwhile, then a lifelong confession brings those blessings forward to redeem more of our lives. 

Spiritual Exercises: Put away all bitterness, wrath, and anger (Part 3)

This continues a short series on getting rid of bitterness or resentments. Part 1 describes some ways to identify and become aware of areas of bitterness to show more clearly what we are trying to remove. Part 2 explains how to identify why it bothers us beyond the obvious level (what the other person did) and getting to why it bothers us in a way leaves bitterness (the internal ways it affects us, and the human weaknesses, vulnerabilities, or vanities that cause us to keep a record of wrongs). 

Next we will look at various ways to get rid of bitterness. This relies on our having been honest to this point about what is bothering us and why, getting past the surface level that "the other person was wrong" and having gone deeper into how the events are personal to us.

This post is intended for those who have jotted down their own resentments, and have in hand a list of some people who are resented, what the other person did, and how it affects their own life. For my working example, I'm looking at an example of someone who made fun of me in front of a friend group, and how I see that as a threat to my social inclusion and/or reputation in that group. Equipped with that understanding of the situation, what next? 

For each resentment on the list, consider each of these questions: 

• What is my share in creating the situation?
  This is the time to take an honest look at the answers both about what happened and why it affects me. In my example, my share in creating the situation is that I have doubts about belonging in the friend group. Without that self-doubt, would her actions have actually affected me? 
• What is my share in resolving the situation? 
  This is the time to take a more active role in seeing what can be done about it. When we have resentments, the focus is on the past and on the other person (what the other person did). To get out of resentments, it's useful to think about the future and about what we can do. The worldly approach -- what to do about a resentment -- is to get even, which as a Christian I regard as a temptation. We can expect the temptation to retaliate whenever we are wronged, and may need to set aside a moment to dismiss the first impulse to destructive or pointless actions. Instead, what are the constructive ones? In my example where I have doubts about belonging in the friend group, I could reach out to stay in touch or set up some shared time with others in the group. That would actively address the perceived harm, without stooping to retaliation. 
• Is the other person well, in regards to spiritual and mental health? 
  This is definitely not the time to feel superiority to another person by labeling them as unwell. However, if there is a known situation where the person deserves compassion, this is the time to be honest about it. Another person's situation, regardless of what it is, does not make it okay for them to treat someone badly; but it might make it pointless to be bothered by it. If this situation does not apply to the current resentment then disregard it for the current resentment. But if it does apply, how is it any gain to harbor ill-will towards someone who is unwell? 
• Is the resentment a substitute for security? 
  If the resentment serves a pragmatic purpose -- in my case, reminding me to keep clear of someone who has caused me trouble -- I can do that without the ill-will. 
• Is the resentment causing more harm than good? 
  Nobody feels the weight of the resentment like the person who carries the resentment. It is an emotional burden that interferes with love. It does not interfere only with love for the person who wronged us, but it interferes with love in general because our hearts and minds are crowded with thoughts and feelings that are incompatible with love. Regardless of whether we ever reconcile with the other person, the ill-will disrupts our life in the spirit. 
  

After considering these points, it's recommended to pray. You may already know how you want to pray about it. For anyone who would rather have guidance or suggestions, here's an option: 

Lord, I admit I have bitterness against (name). My own weakness (may name the problem, in my case fear of isolation) has left me vulnerable to harm. My inaction has left things unresolved. My willingness to focus on the problem has been a weed that crowds out love. Lord, I give you the memory of the harm that bothers me, and should it return to mind I give you the memory again. Let your mercy be the measure that I use with others, as you have with me, in Jesus' name. 

Or just the fill-in-the-blank re-usable format: 

Lord, I admit I have bitterness against (name). My own (human vulnerability) has left me vulnerable to harm. My inaction has left things unresolved. My willingness to focus on the problem has been a weed that crowds out love. Lord, I give you the memory of the harm that bothers me, and should it return to mind I give you the memory again. Let your mercy be the measure that I use with others, as you have with me, in Jesus' name. 

Spiritual Exercises: Put away all bitterness, wrath, and anger (Part 2)

Last post, I introduced the idea of a resentments inventory to work on the Biblical direction to "get rid of all bitterness" (etc), Ephesians 4:31, and introduced the first part: making an honest and thorough list of the resentments we're carrying, or specifically the people or groups against which we're harboring bitterness. 

Moving forward, we identify the specific cause of the resentment or ill-will in each case, and from there we find the underlying reason why it affects us in particular. 

Identify the cause of the resentment (external reason)

I will use a real example, starting where we were last week; since this is public I will leave out names and simply list the first person on my list as "Person A" here in public. I avoid the company of Person A out of resentment. So why is it that I resent Person A? For making fun of me in front of our friend group, and showing no regret when I explained that it bothered me. 

Most people have an easy time identifying the external cause: we see that other people are wrong or imperfect in some way, and stop there. When we quickly see that another person did wrong, it's easy to look no further because it's very comfortable to look no further. But the external cause -- blaming other people -- is of no spiritual use to us. We dig deeper. 

Identify the underlying reasons (internal reason)

To dig deeper, I want to identify the underlying reason why it affects me. 

I've heard it explained like this, when someone was angry about someone who "was a complete jerk!" The answer was, "Okay, but why does that bother you? What does that have to do with you?" We don't get angry about someone being a jerk unless it affects us in some way. So how does this one particular person affect us? 

How it affects us involves some self-reflection. Resentment is a temptation to hatred  Any temptation only tempts us to the extent that it finds a weakness. So these underlying reasons show us how we become vulnerable to temptation. We may find that there are human needs, or social vulnerabilities, or unmet goals. These things may not be bad in themselves but do provide an opening through which we can be tempted. So at this point we want to find how exactly the external situation combines with our weakness, desires, etc. to expose us to temptation. 

I'd like to set aside self-blame from this by referring to Jesus' example. When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, we see the same principle at work. He was hungry so the first temptation used food as the exposure to temptation: would he use his power in a self-serving way? Sure, there were other temptations, even within the bid to get him to turn the stones to bread. But simple hunger will work as an example of how any weakness can expose us to temptation, even the mere fact of being a human who needs to eat. So not every weakness is blameworthy, though we'll want to be honest with ourselves about what we find. 

How does it look in my own example? In the case of "Person A", I find myself affected in my friend group. Keeping my distance from Person A affects other friendships among people that we both know. It also affects our former friendship that I had thought was developing. The temptation, the resentment, is because I feel a threat to my social inclusion and/or my reputation. 

So for any given resentment, the self-reflection is used to become clear about not merely "they were wrong" but about how and why it affects me. This shows me why this particular thing bothers me. I will discover how it causes me discomfort, fear, embarrassment, risk of reputation, risk of friendship or other relationship, risk of income, or any other of the variety of ways we humans are vulnerable. It's helpful to get specific so I can see what's actually bothering me. It's not the external cause; the world is full of people behaving badly. The reason I'm carrying resentment about this in particular is some internal cause, and it's best for me to be honest about where I'm vulnerable. 

So I'd encourage anyone interested in trying this approach to take a piece of paper and jot down a list: name of person I resent, what did they do (external cause), and how it affects me (my vulnerability). 

Next week, I plan to follow up on "Now that we've identified these resentments, what next?"

Spiritual Exercises: Put away all bitterness, wrath, and anger (Part 1)

"Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, outcry, and slander be put away from you, with all malice." - Ephesians 4:31

By shorthand we can refer to all of the above as resentments, or under the umbrella term of bitterness. 

When simply reading this verse, it is likely that a reader takes in either an impression ("Bitterness is bad") or an intention ("I should get rid of bitterness"). But the verse is a call to action, more than good intentions. We may recognize resentments as harmful and intend to get rid of them without having the slightest idea how to do it. We may be embarrassed or frustrated that the good intentions haven't already gotten rid of the resentments. Or we may lack tools to give us awareness of what resentments we have. We could use concrete guidance: how do we actually get rid of resentment? 

There are spiritual tools for that, and those tools have an interesting backstory with deep roots in the Christian faith. Through a church outreach program, these tools went native in the recovery communities where they saw some useful refinements but obscured their Christian roots. Here I hope to bring these spiritual exercises back to their native ground as a time-tested exercise to get rid of resentments. This post presents Part 1, in which we first identify the resentments that will be reviewed. 

First, identify the resentments. On an actual piece of paper, make an actual written list of those we resent, or where we harbor grudges. We may list individuals, principles, groups, institutions -- any or all of them. The criterion for the list is not the identity of the other but simply whether we have bitterness or resentment toward them. Anyone of whom we speak ill, or are happy when others speak ill of them, has earned a place on the list. Anyone of whom we complain or that we scrutinize to find fault has earned a place on the list. Anyone who is a target of our sarcasm or derision has earned a place on the list. 

Beginning with these sentences, list the people, places, groups, institutions, etc towards which I harbor resentments: 

• I am bitter toward ...
• I am angry toward ...
• I talk badly about ...
• I have ill-will toward ...
• I am sarcastic toward ... 
• I find fault with ... 
• I complain about ...
• I am eager to repeat bad reports about ... 

We are not here concerned with judging whether they deserve it or justifying whether we are in the right; few things can be as unhelpful to our own growth as justifying our bitterness by our location in a fallen world. Without any attempt to evaluate whether a resentment is "right" because the other person surely has flaws, we are simply trying for honesty about whether bitterness exists. It may be useful to keep the list handy for a few days or up to a week, so that new people can be added to the list as we notice a resentment in our minds. 

This is a private list; no one should review it without us wanting them to. Likewise if we're aware that someone else is keeping a list, it is vital not to ask for it or attempt to see it, and not to initiate any conversation about someone else's list. 

To be continued ...

Best of the Blogroll 2025

I like to ring in the new year by recognizing blog neighbors whose work enriched my spiritual life, or contributed to growth in understanding during the year. Here are the best-loved posts of 2025:  

• CADRE Comments - BK, one of the founding members of the CADRE, raises awareness of the purported Moses inscriptions and of his hesitations about using it in historical arguments. 
• Common Denominator - Ken Schenck is a prolific writer and self-publisher, but the piece that interested me most this year was a summary of the development of his thought during a year at seminary. 
• Dr Claude Mariottini has maintained a light post schedule this year. His Christmas post is a worthy read: The Prince of Peace: Isaiah's Promise Fulfilled. 
• Forward Progress - Michael Kelley is a prolific poster of edifying content. His post about 4 effects of being rooted and established in love shows his willingness to take seriously the Christian particulars even if they are subject of scorn in the secular world. His post on 3 reasons for Christians to pursue unity again touches on topics dear to my heart and for the witness of Christianity in the world. And he recognizes (and encourages) the quiet consistency of discipleship, and the value of church membership in A Christian without a church is a Christian in trouble. He closes the year reminding us that "[t]he Great Commission is not negotiable; it's not restrictive; it's also just not that complicated" in Go Tell It on the Mountain that Jesus Christ Is Born. 
• Glory To God For All Things - Father Freeman invites us to explore meaning and the nature of communication, understanding, and thought in Truth, Lies, and Icons. 
• Hyperekperissou keeps up a steady stream of book reviews, sometimes touching on themes of the faith. His review of The Mestizo Augustine raises awareness of how multi-culturalism is not new to our current era. 
• Jennica, periodically posting useful material even if not on a traditional blog site, has a useful reference on quotations from the ante-Nicene Fathers from books in the New Testament. 
• Meta's Blog - Joe Hinman, answering atheist objections to the end, posted his response to those atheists who claim that the gospels are myth as his last post before passing away in 2025. Memory eternal, Joe! 
• The Pocket Scroll calls attention to a collection of Maximus the Confessor's Sayings on Love from the Philokalia. 
• Reading Acts often posts on current academic literature in the field of Biblical Studies, for example this book review of Writing and Rewriting the Gospels: John and the Synoptics. 
• Roger Pearse is a standout in the field of ancient manuscripts and related fields. This year he has translated some writings of St Jerome into English for the first time (examples here and here). With his customary thorough research and deep sourcing, he also posted an entertaining piece on the modern origins of the Easter bunny. 
• Sun and Shield - while Martin LaBar prefers to give the spotlight to others with his Sunspots series (nearly to 1000 entries at this point), he also posts original material such as his thoughts on the importance of gratitude, noting that grumbling/complaining makes it onto some Biblical lists of sins. 
• Undivided Looking - Aron Wall prefers his posts in-depth and his analysis meticulous. Buckle up for an in-depth dive into Paradoxes of Theodicy. 

Thank you to all Christian bloggers posting informative, uplifting, and edifying content in 2025, both the pieces I'm aware of and the ones I'm not. Best wishes and blessings for 2026!