My problem with this, and the reason I personally messaged him about it, is that even unbelievers often evidence better charity than this, comporting themselves with goodwill even in heated disagreements. But they act only out of an intangible sense of sporting or intellectual solidarity. To employ the classic how-much-more argument, shouldn’t we Christians be legendarily quick to forgive? I think the excuse often given, and the misconception I want to address, is that we don’t have to forgive someone unless, or until, they’re truly repentant.

To begin with, forgiveness is different than reconciliation, meaning that you don’t have to wait for them to ask before you forgive them. Some might place the distinction between being prepared to forgive, and actually forgiving (once the other party has sincerely asked forgiveness), but I submit that these are different ways of getting at the same thing. Being prepared to forgive someone really just means you’ve forgiven them, otherwise you’re still holding something against them, whereas you should love them enough to pursue reconciliation.

In the above scenario, I told my friend that it didn’t seem very Christ-like to withhold forgiveness, to which he responded that God doesn’t forgive us unless we truly repent. My best answer was that we’re not God, which I think is a valid point. But more than that, I think God deals with us in a more forgiving way, though repenting of our sins is essential to being in fellowship with God, and conviction is how God brings us back because we are His atoned-for children. But if I were to die suddenly with unrepented sins, I don’t think I’d be cast into utter darkness or serving time in purgatory. And, on a more basic level, “God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).  Simply put, if God didn’t forgive us before we deserved it, we’d be screwed.

I was recently inspired to consider this topic again by a sermon on handling conflict, the telos of which was that we are told to forgive as we’ve been forgiven, or else God will do to us as the unforgiving servant of Matthew 18. The man in the parable was forgiven an impossible debt; we likewise, who have been forgiven much, are called to forgive much in return. And this fits nicely with a Thanksgiving theme, since I technically still have half an hour of “Turkey Day.” We’ve been forgiven everything, so we have no excuse for ungratefulness. We’ve been forgiven everything, so why not let’s forgive everyone, everywhere, everything?

That last line and the following excerpt, which I’ll end with, are from the lyrics to “bullet to Binary (pt. two)” by mewithoutYou:

We all well know
We’re gonna reap what we sow
But grace, we all know
Can take the place of all we owe
So why not, let’s forgive everyone, everywhere, everything
All the time, everyone, everywhere, everything

All the time, everyone, everywhere, everything…

https://www.abrokenmold.net/2010/11/so-why-not-lets-forgive-everyone/feed/ 4 https://www.abrokenmold.net/2010/10/crf-testimony/ Fri, 01 Oct 2010 17:58:15 +0000 https://www.abrokenmold.net/?p=831 So, I am going to be lame and actually post something that I wrote for homework. In my defense, it was not for school, but for CRF (For those of you unfamiliar with that, it is Collegiate Reformed Fellowship for students in the Moscow area).

This last week at CRF, Mr. Ben Merkle spoke on evangelism, specifically, on being immersed in the Word and in prayer thus preparing yourself to meet anyone with an answer for the hope within you. As homework he asked us to write a page or so in answer to that question. Essentially a testimony, or an explanation of why you are the way you are. It was an interesting assignment to complete and definitely made me think. For those of you interested, here is what I said:

First of all, I am created. I do not believe that I am the product of random chance, the vomitous effusion of primordial ooze. By merely observing the world around me I am convinced that there is a God, a Supreme Being by whom the universe was created. By seeing the beauty of this creation I know that He is fundamentally a good God. By reading the Scriptures I recognize that I am a special creation, endowed with the image of God Himself, able to reason, think and understand. I also realize that I am powerless, but that He is all powerful, controlling and knowing all things.

Secondly I am a sinner. There is evil in the world. I know that there is a moral standard since we are not just passive beings, but have consciences and feelings. Even atheists cannot consistently claim a neutral standard of behavior. Being made in the image of God we have, set in our very being, a perception of right and wrong. Knowing this, I am able to see that I do not measure up, that I am constantly doing that which is wrong. The Bible gives us the account of the Fall, in which Adam, the first human, turned away from God introducing sin into the world tainting all of creation and consequently all of his posterity. This is why there is misery in the world. This is why people die. The punishment for this sin is death and eternal separation from God.

Thirdly, I know that God is merciful in redeeming his sinful creation. He promised Adam that He would one day send a Savior to take away the punishment for our sin, bringing us back into fellowship with God. Thus, 4,000 years later, a baby was born to a virgin. Defying the laws of nature, this baby was God Himself incarnate in human flesh. He took on human form that he might be a fitting scape-goat to bear our punishments. Coming into our corrupt world, he lived without corruption. At the right time he was lifted up on a cross, cruelly murdered by hateful men. Three days later, according to His promise, He was resurrected from the dead, defying sin and death for ever and bringing with Him into new life all those who believed His promises and trusted Him for redemption. Thus I, having acknowledged my own sinfulness and need for renewal have trusted Him to bear my punishment for me and raise me up with Him to fellowship with God and free me from the power of sin.

Lastly, having received the great gift of His love and having been washed from sin by His righteous death and resurrection, out of thankfulness and reciprocal love towards Him, I am compelled to live righteously, seeking to put away the remaining vestiges of sin, and being renewed to a perfect likeness of Him in whose image I was made. I also am compelled to spread the good news of this redemption, telling others of the hope found in Christ, the Savior of the World. By my actions and by my words I seek to glorify Him, loving Him and loving mankind who, with me, were made in His image. My life and purpose are thus oriented by my thankfulness and love to a good, merciful and loving God. He loves me and therefore do I love Him. I no longer fear death because Christ defeated death and I through Him. I know that when I die, I shall be raised up, perfected in the image of God, to fellowship with Him forever, and with all believers. For this day I am waiting, seeking in the meantime to live according to His righteous standards, yearning to learn and know more about Him, observing and appreciating His wonderful character as evidenced in the beauty of Creation.

There are situations where death can be a blessing, but only in the sense that God uses or allows evil to work a greater triumph. Like the death of a dear saint in the pain of old age, ready to go home. Like Aslan and his death at the hands of the White Witch, or Christ’s own death on the cross. Caleb said at one point that death is just taking us to be with Christ. That is true, but that’s not the way it was intended. We were to fellowship with God by truly natural means; it is death that is unnatural, the result of a curse. And yet, Christ has taken the curse upon himself, and triumphed over death. Dying with him, we are raised to new life.

But I also believe there is an appropriate sorrow at death — in the case of beloved saints, merely at the separation, but with unbelievers the separation is eternal. That is worth grieving about. While everyone who rejects Christ gets what they want, it’s still a terrible, sorrowful result of the Fall. To repeat myself in a comment on Caleb’s post, while we trust and submit to God’s sovereign plan, it is not wrong to sorrow or attempt to change things (through evangelism, etc.).

But we live in God’s story, and we must tune our sense of humor to match his. Caleb made his case well in a follow-up comment: Eglon’s death is pretty funny. Yes, we can laugh at a dead man. But we can also sorrow. “The Lord is … not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). And finally, we surely must not fear death. I close with a quote from the end of Pilgrim’s Progress:

“My Sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my Pilgrimage, and my Courage and Skill to him that can get it. My Marks and Scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought his Battles who now will be my Rewarder.” When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the Riverside, into which as he went he said, “Death, where is thy Sting?” And as he went down deeper he said, “Grave, where is thy Victory?” So he passed over, and all the Trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

This and Nathaniel’s post on audience have got me thinking and somewhat re-working my approach. In fact, this is an attempt at a short to medium post that puts forth a thought for consideration. Now there is, of course, an appropriate way to strategize and target your audience. That’s what this post is about. But targeting your audience doesn’t mean broadening your appeal¹ so much as knowing your audience, like Nat said, and producing good content.

As should be apparent, this is really just a good business model — it applies to blogging almost informally. Companies like Apple, Inc. understand this.² Apple has a niche market and focuses on content that resonates within this group, to the extent that Jobs has what is termed a “cult following” [warning: link contains some language]. After all, Macs just work. Nevertheless, Apple is also a good example of a company that expanded its focus to great advantage (read: iPhone).

Conversely, Microsoft wants the whole market — go big or go home. Call it biting off more than you can chew, taking in too much territory, or whatever; but Microsoft tries to cover a broad range of user needs, hardware manufacturers and platforms, and comes up short on the quality front. Not content to focus on what it does best (using the term generously), Microsoft is constantly competing with Sony, Apple, Google, Gmail and Linux. And — whether it’s gaming consoles, hardware, media players, operating systems, communication services or search engines — you get a lineup of products doomed to eternal second place.

I could regale you with talk of BSODs, driver headaches and viruses, Windows ME and Vista, but the goal was merely to demonstrate what I mean by “the myth of relevance.” Just getting the most customers or the biggest audience is not an end unto itself. A streamlined, focused business model and quality control builds and retains a loyal consumer following. Spyderco is a good example. With only 30 employees and direct input from owner/founder Sal Glesser, there is a personal attention to quality and focus on customer relations that makes a Spyderco owner feel included, as it were. One wants the same sort of connection with a blog audience.

Finally, one more application: churches. There are, sadly, a lot of churches that would cut off their doctrinal arm to be “relevant.” They are the seeker-friendly, spiritual-milk, easy-believism variety. As Pastor Terry Tollefson is fond of saying, if the young people aren’t coming, break out the pizza, guitars, low lights and couches. Preach what people like to hear. Tickle ears. Unfortunately, they — just like the girl with mismatched shoes (one Converse and maybe a fur-trimmed boot is about right), striped leggings, outlandish hair and the “raccoon” style eyeliner — are pitching an indiscriminate appeal for attention. But attention is not an end to itself. You want the right kind of attention, the right kind of publicity. To quote Pastor Doug Wilson in a related vein, “Young Christian people should seek to become the kind of person that the kind of person they would want to marry would want to marry.”

Churches should want to attract people because of the strong preaching of law and condemnation in tension with grace and love, the unity, fellowship and accountability. The robust doctrine of Psalms and liturgy. The corporate-ness of Christ’s body. If someone is repelled by any of these things, that’s the way it should be — that’s the only hope for them. Diluting the truth until no one feels convicted is doing no one any favors. Taking the potency from worship and the doctrine from the songs is what, in other venues, would be called false advertising.

The church, properly functioning, shows people where they stand in relation to the body of Christ. When this is not done, people either discover spiritual meat at some point and have no taste for it, or settle into a warm, fuzzy, God-isn’t-about-guilt version of Christianity. (Just as long as I don’t have to do anything uncomfortable, like loving unlovable old people in nursing homes or confessing sins or letting grudges go.) On rare occasion, they realize they aren’t getting fed and look for a body to keep them accountable, words they can chew on — the Word himself.

So then, what I’ve called the “myth” of relevance is the notion that attracting attention, broadening appeal or increasing numbers is anything to aim for. At best, you will raise lukewarm interest in your lukewarm product. At worst, you will fill the Church with people who wouldn’t be there if they knew the way is narrow, and deter those who would only be there if they did. If I have spent time and digital ink on this last point, it’s because I’m serious. In any of these applications, there are some people to whom you don’t want to be relevant, and especially when it concerns the sanctification of Christ’s bride.

But, as always, that sanctification should flow out through all our endeavors, even our blogs. And yes, as a short to medium post, this is a fail. Oh well, semper reformanda and all that.

Is this what we want the world to think of our Christianity? Do we want people to see us as a cheesy, fuzzy, group of people “keeping it real with Jesus?” Should our music portray a sappy, over-baked “Jesus is my boyfriend” style or shouldn’t we rather portray what Christianity really is, the blood of Christ, the raging struggle of spirit against flesh, flesh against spirit, the persecution, the wrath of God, the (not sappy, not cheesy, but overpowering) love of Jesus when we were unlovable, wallowing in blood, sin and misery, the burden lifted from our shoulders by His sacrifice, the battle that He calls us to join, our victory against the power of Satan forever…now there’s something to sing about.

A lot of Christians would argue with me and say that using that kind of language doesn’t win people to Christ. If they hear about the bloody, gory, humiliating, overwhelming and rather harsh story of the Bible they will be repulsed. Therefore we should give them a mushy, half-hearted depiction of Jesus as a meek, Bambi-eyed, white-robed figure, trying to relate to people, begging them to just hold hands with Him, sway back and forth a little, throw a pine-cone in the fire, slip up their hand…? I think not.

People are desperate. People are miserable. People are wallowing in blood and tears waiting, searching for someone brave enough to make war on the misery of the world, someone strong enough to turn the world right side up, someone they can admire, love and fear. Someone awesome. They’re not ready to put the world in the hands of plastic, hippie-Jesus, but perhaps they would place the universe in the hands of the bloody but triumphant Son of God, one who has faced death and spat in it’s face, one who has crushed the head of sin and misery and sent it howling with it’s tail between it’s legs, one who is so beautiful, so holy, so awesome, so glorious we cannot look at Him without falling on our faces, one who loves us in our dirt and invites us in to eat at His table. This is what the world is looking for. Perhaps it’s time to start portraying our story in our music.  If we’re going to make “Christian” songs, let’s at least do it right.

Sleep, you are cold-blooded, merciless,
an executioner.
You softly slit my throat from ear to ear
into a smile across my neck,
and spill my warm blood onto Calvin or
The Classic Hundred Poems.
Sleep, you are persuasive and insinuating,
loosening my aching ribs.
The caffeine candle lighting up my skull
can only last so long before
it flickers down and
fizzles on the table.
You charm my drooping head
with dark advances,
soft, beguiling.
And at the last you sooth my eyeballs,
burning, frozen orbs.
Forgiving, gentle sleep.

The narrative weaves erratically through reflections on philosophy, quantum physics, wasp villains, and Shakespeare in a stream-of-consciousness format. Interspersed throughout are meteorological observations, insights on everyday life, and stories from the kingdom Animalia. “Have you ever heard a rabbit scream?”

In the chapter titled “The Problem of Evil and the Nonexistence of Shakespeare,” Mr. Wilson deals with the sobering reality of evil. God is the great Artist, and there is black paint in the world. “How can this Artist be good?” The Christian apologetic is presented here in a rambling, poetic style influenced by C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton, and the result is truly a work of art. Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl is different; it reads with a unique style that well captures the depth and vibrancy of creation, and being thought-provoking while at it. I highly recommend this book, and I think every Christian should read it.

Note (no pun intended) that Mr. Wilson employs a few words that some might find offensive. For some thoughts on Christians and what might be called “strong” language, check out these older blog posts here and here.

True to the title, Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl takes the form of notes from life, expressing the wonder of God’s world. God’s spoken world. One theme that runs through the book like a thread (and there are many) is that of words. Everyone is given a part in God’s story.

“Our Maker waits. He would have a conversation. What words will we have? We need only one, the One who spoke us.”