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.