A Wise Life

A blog by Lisa M. Price

I am by no means a scholar. However, I do have a keen interest in Church history and a passion for weird theories. I have observed that the aforementioned shifts have also resulted in a net loss and a net gain of something enormously significant to the church. At the council of Nicaea, the Church gained respectability and opportunities for influence but lost its simplicity and doctrinal purity. When Luther posted his theses, the result was that the Church gained a much-needed anchor (biblical truth) but lost its unity, cohesiveness and a good deal of its authority.

In some instances (as with the Civil War statues) the twisting is done in the name of ensuring that no tender soul is triggered by some unpleasant historical fact. This is a noble but deeply misguided desire. It is impossible to learn anything from a history we are ignorant of. The whole truth about history must be told to prevent it from being repeated and so that society can grow from the mistakes made by our ancestors.

“I forgive you” is more than just a syrupy sentiment or some empty words we utter to get the positive feels back in the relationship. Forgiveness is the choice to completely let go of hostility, resentment and the right to seek revenge for legitimate wrongs committed against us by another person. Forgiveness is without question the most arduous, gut wrenching, pride busting thing Christians are ordered to do (Matthew 6:15). It is also simply a fact that no marriage will survive without forgiveness.

That being said, humans tend to be creatures of weird extremes. We rarely do, think or believe anything in a halfhearted fashion. As a result, the current emphasis on grace has caused many Christians to view good works as an optional activity for Christians at best and as an affront to the grace of God at worst. Some Bible teachers and Pastors have inadvertently encouraged this flawed thinking by leading people to believe that salvation is an end rather than a beginning. Many Christians sincerely believe there is nothing left for us to do but glory in our salvation and wait for heaven once we have become Christians.

Happiness is a feeling or mood that tends to be short-lived and extremely centered on self. Finding happiness is complicated by the fact that even under the most ideal of circumstances happiness is something that is challenging to hang onto. As a result, once we begin down the path of “making ourselves happy” the pursuit of happiness becomes a never-ending quest that is nearly impossible to achieve or maintain. This is partly because the stuff that make us happy (or unhappy) tends to change frequently. On Tuesday donuts might make me supremely happy and on Friday the mere thought of them might make me queasy. Because happiness is such an unstable and selfish emotion when we do things solely for the sake of our personal happiness we tend to hurt a lot of people (including ourselves) in the process of “making ourselves happy”.

According to the Barna Research Group most pastors do not feel “safe” speaking out on thorny social issues. I am not sure if this fear is grounded in experience or if we have all just devolved into a bunch of timid simps. I do know that the church is called to be salt and light in this world (Matthew 5:13-16). I also know that pastors are meant to be the mouthpieces of the church in this world. If sixty-four percent of pastors feel they cannot speak out about abortion, sin, sexuality and issues of fairness without suffering some sort of personal backlash then the world will quickly lose even more of its preserving (salty) influence.

However, that is an entirely different breed of cat from one person deciding that they should not be held to the same moral standards as every other believer on the planet because they have chosen to believe that God’s judgments on moral issues are wibbly-wobbly and open to interpretation (Judges 21:25). In most evangelical churches love has been held up as the highest value (and for good reason) but we have forgotten that love not built on a foundation of truth inevitably devolves into a puddle of messy, inarticulate sentimentality.