The Kingdom’s Personal Piety
Chapter 6 of Matthew’s gospel, the center of the famous Sermon on the Mount, is then instructive for our presumptions of what piety means and how to put it into practice in a number of interesting ways. First of all, notice the list of topics that our Lord chooses. Giving, prayer, fasting—so far, so normal in terms of what we would expect under the topic of piety—then money again, this time from a different angle, which is perhaps not so surprising given the preponderant difficulty that most humans have with money and possessions. But then Jesus finishes with a long section on anxiety or worry, which is not exactly a “spiritual discipline” as such, and in the middle of that is one of the more well-known statements in the Sermon on the Mount about seeking first the kingdom of God.
Second but more importantly still, notice the ongoing contrast that runs throughout this chapter. Over and over again, Jesus is telling His followers not to be “like them,” those who make a display of piety, but instead to be “like this,” those who give thought only to God as their audience. You can see this contrast in Matthew 6:1–2, where Jesus describes the extraordinary showy behavior of givers at the time and then tells His followers, “Sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others.” So don’t be like them. Instead, be like this: “When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing” (Matt. 6:3).
You can see the same contrast when He teaches on prayer: “When you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites” (Matt. 6:5). So don’t be like them. Instead, be like this: “When you pray, go into your room . . .” (Matt. 6:6).
We can see the same contrast in Jesus’ teaching on fasting: “When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites . . .” (Matt. 6:16). Instead, “when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face . . .” (Matt. 6:17). Don’t be like them; instead, be like this.
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The Gold Mine in the Local Church
Keith Hamilton is a 69-year-old member of our local church. After church on Sunday, we made plans to meet up in the next few days to discuss life and Scripture. A couple of nights earlier he sent a text asking, “What are some big topics or needs you’d like to discuss on Wednesday morning?” I took about a day to think about it and responded, “Fatherhood and unity are always good topics.” We settled on fatherhood and made arrangements to meet at The Hub, a favorite local coffee shop, at 7 a.m.
On that Wednesday morning we were greeted by the familiar smoky smell of freshly roasted coffee. We ordered our java, grabbed a hearty breakfast, and sat at a table next to the window. The air conditioning was chilly and the ambient music particularly upbeat. I grabbed my pocket-sized leather notebook, my favorite Pilot G-2 .05 ink pen, and my Bible to learn from this missionary and father of three. We opened with a word of prayer before digging into our breakfast.
After some brief small talk, Keith opened up his iPad, propped it up on a neat little tablet stand, and shifted the screen so I could see it. He had prepared a page of Scripture notes for us to discuss. The notes were focused around two simple and familiar passages. Though I knew them by heart, I wasn’t prepared for how impactful these verses would be that morning. Keith said, “The first two passages that came to mind for the topic of fatherhood were Ephesians 6:4 and Colossians 3:21. Here are some of the word study notes I came up with. Sorry I didn’t quite have time to get to the application points yet.”
At that moment, I was astonished that Mr. Hamilton, a man who also teaches Bible classes online, took time out of his busy schedule, full of responsibilities, to prepare a Bible study to help me grow as a father. He didn’t opt for his own opinions. He also didn’t choose a good book from his shelf. Instead, he humbly opened God’s Word to help me. Keith modeled the discipleship I have so earnestly desired.
A Lesson in Failure and Success
In contrast to the brisk air in the room, my time with Keith was warm. Though I’d read and preached those fatherhood passages numerous times, they were a fresh and welcome word from this seasoned saint. He weaved his own stories of successes, failures, and lessons learned from his own experience of fatherhood on the mission field, the times when ministry and work separated him from his family. He didn’t mince words either. I listened as Keith said, “In that season, I failed.” He didn’t dress his failures with excuses about his calling or the necessary sacrifices he needed to make for the cause of the gospel. He was honest. Painfully honest. I needed to hear that.
He shared specific memories from the early 90s when his kids, like me, were just toddlers running around.
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Has Church Abuse Activism Taken a Wrong Turn?
Written by Samuel D. James |
Tuesday, February 21, 2023
The whole reason to call out church abuse wherever it happens is because the church is beautiful and valuable and immortal, and Satan, the master abuser, wants church to look more like him instead. To the degree that abuse awareness hands people a mirror and tells them they can only be truly safe at home, it surrenders the whole game to the enemy himself.My review of When Narcissism Comes to Church generated some of the more pointed pushback I’ve ever received from those I would consider generally in my theological/political tribe. My friend John Starke thought I mis-characterized the book. Mike Cosper agreed with this, and went further to explain why the book is valuable even at those points where my description might hold up. In one interesting section, Cosper offers a scenario where Chuck DeGroat’s framework could be helpfully applied:
If you confront a narcissist and say, “You’re prideful, abusive, and manipulative of others,” you’ll likely get one of two responses. You might hear them say, “That’s simply not true — I’m deeply insecure and I’m surrounded by people who tell me they don’t think I’m abusive and confront me when they think I’m wrong.” In this case, that’s likely all true! The confrontation fails to consider the way the individual’s pathology makes them profoundly blind to their own sins and motivations, and it fails to account for the way modern society incentivizes others to attach themselves to narcissists. The outcome is often a mealy-mouthed, “I’m sorry for the way my behavior made you feel” apology.
On the other hand, you might hear them address the accusation directly, saying, “I struggle deeply with pride, tell me who I’ve sinned against and I’ll apologize.” In this case if there is a kind of narcissistic pathology at work, they can easily perform these tasks again and again. Critics might continue to say, “They’re abusive,” but co-leaders can point to the acts of repentance and attempts at reconciliation as evidence of a malleable heart. That’s all the more likely within a system that’s benefitting from a narcissist’s charisma and energy.
DeGroat’s framework challenges us to consider the more complex interaction between sin and suffering at the heart of the behavior. By understanding narcissism as a psychological defense, a built-in response to internalized trauma and grief, we see a different kind of inroad for caring for the soul of a narcissist. They can be confronted with their sin and its impact on a community while also being shown connections between that behavior and their deeper wounds. It does nothing to diminish the power of sin and the need for the cross to do so. In fact, it expands the way we can see its power — addressing not only the sins that we might have committed, but the power of sin to malform us.
Now, what I think is particularly instructive about what Cosper writes here is that he’s offered a mini-case study of confronting an abusive leader, and in this case study, there is no question that the accusation of narcissism and abuse is valid. Cosper’s case study envisions two endings to such a confrontation: either the leader will blame-shift, or they will try to pacify the accuser by appearing to “repent.” In either case, Cosper’s illustration presumes that the person being confronted really is a genuine narcissist, and with this assurance and using DeGroat’s ideas, the accuser can be equipped to see through even an apparent confession and apology. In other words, Cosper is saying that we need DeGroat’s book in order to really hold narcissistic leaders accountable, because otherwise we might be fooled by their apologies and their apparent contrition. Without doing the thick psychoanalytical work—identifying past traumas, naming one’s insecurities, perhaps even taking the Enneagram—we are at the mercy of having to take a narcissist at his word.
In the very beginning of my review, however, I offered a much different hypothetical scenario:
You are approached by two people in your church, both people that you know, love, and trust with equal measure. Person A needs to tell you something about Person B. Person B, according to Person A, has been spiritually abusing them. Person B has been using their leadership and influence to convince other people that Person A’s beliefs and opinions are wrong. Moreover, according to A, Person B has persisted in a pattern of manipulation toward A: saying things to belittle, minimize, or ignore A. Person A feels incredibly victimized by Person B, and does not know how they can persevere at this church while Person B remains.
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Dear False Teacher: The Puritan Thomas Brooks Would Like a Word with You
“False teachers strive more to win over men to their opinions, not better them in their [Christian walk].” False teachers want you to forget that the sin of homosexuality is rebellion against the creation ordinance (which is the same sin leveled by letters of the alphabet soup, LGBTQ). Rebellion against God’s created order, which he calls good, isn’t erased because the person committing this sin is someone you love.
Dear Mr. False Teacher,
Permit me to write boldly to you. You have repeated your shallow shibboleths in sermons, blogs, and conferences, and you have tried very hard to pretend that secular society is a neutral playground, a marketplace of ideas where Christianity is welcome to flourish.
You punt for nuance every time and have made every clear teaching of the law and gospel a grey area of ambiguity.
You have sought the middle road on every issue: gay marriage, transgender normalization, Black Lives Matter, and abortion.
You always seek the third way.
But it’s getting harder for you to persuade your flock because some of them see that a raging spiritual war has washed out the middle road and the third way.
I believe that you are at a crossroads.
So let me put it straight: if you are a true Christian who has fallen into some bad theology, I’m throwing you a rope. Why not grab it?
Your rhetorical strategy was to yield the moral language to the left–using transgender pronouns, normalizing all things LGBTQ+, and generally asking, “Did God Really Say?” anytime biblical clarity came with a cost. Maybe you tell yourself that you mean well. Perhaps you truly believe your innovations are better than God’s word because you fancy yourself more merciful than God. You and your friends redefined the biblical concepts once foundational to all Christians, like being born again, forsaking sin, and finding liberty in Christ.
By redefining biblical words through secular definitions, you almost persuaded yourself and others that:Being “born again” meant coming to grips with your personal truth.
“Forsaking sin” meant not offending unbelievers with God’s word.
“Finding liberty in Christ” meant doing whatever your feelings dictate.Believe me. I understand your dilemma. Let’s not forget that I once promoted garbage ideas, such as “pronoun hospitality,” and garbage aphorisms, such as “homosexuality is a sin, but so too is homophobia.” I repent before God and men. Christians “repent of their particular sins particularly,” as the Westminster Confession of Faith XV.V teaches. As God’s Word says, “If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:7-9).
Perhaps you think I am exaggerating the problem?
Did you miss the federal government program that puts LGBTQ+ in all government schools as part of an anti-bullying mandate?[1] But instead of warning your flock of danger, you told them that “Love is Love,” therefore, the Christian’s responsibility in the government schools is “Love, Don’t Leave.” (Way to go using an aphorism instead of the Bible. It’s catchier; you can say it around unbelievers without offending them, and you won’t risk bringing God into the equation.)
Did you miss that after the State of Tennessee passed a law protecting minors from self-mutilation under the Frankensteinian umbrella of “gender-affirming surgery,” the Biden Administration’s Department of Justice leveled a lawsuit against the state of Tennessee?[2] Did you catch that? My friend Andrew Branch put it best: “It’s official: A 14th Amendment claim by the federal government over castrating minors.”
And although by now you are likely “feeling triggered” –as your peer group likes to call it–I suggest you man up, Mr. False Teacher, because Mr. Thomas Brooks would like to have a word with you.
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