Accountability to a fellowship is good, but without honesty, is insufficient. More often than not I have coddled my sin rather than killed it. I’ve fed the beast, thinking that I might keep it at bay, all the while it has been plotting its attack. We cannot co-exist with sin, making excuses for it, placating it with promises of tomorrow. Our idols are ruthless task-masters; we have made them too heavy to bear up, their weight will crush us. We must grind them to powder and throw them to the wind, or we might find that God has ground them for us, though the taste will be bitter on our tongue.

The lights dimmed. The movie began. A man waking in a hospital bed repeatedly pressing a buzzer that is never responded to. He gathers his strength to stand, slowly exploring the empty halls, calling repeatedly to his echo. He’s alone.
The lonely man wanders the quiet streets. He seems small in empty world. Wind blown waste shudders down the side path, newspaper headings about a virus, the date read 28 days earlier.
That’s when the zombies attacked.
It was also the exact moment I left the cinema. Like a fool, I walked in to watch a movie I knew nothing about while attempting to kill time on an interstate layover. I don’t watch Zombie flicks. I’d like to say I have some grand theological reason why that’s the case, the truth though is simpler—I don’t like scary movies. It baffles me why zombie movies are so popular, why the idea of the living dead still attracts a crowd—but it does. ‘Fright’ is cheap entertainment.
I don’t need to entertain fictional zombies, I have enough of my own to contend with. I’ve been a stumbling follower of Jesus since my mid-teens. I’ve had my moments of victory, mountain-top experiences of joy that modern worship songs love to extol. But sin has plagued me. Of course, the sins of youthful lusts and pride were present, and my twenties were a decade of struggle. My thirties saw the struggle change, but still present. I thought I’d left much behind, but in my mid forties, a new army has arisen—a zombie squad intent on tearing apart what God has built.

“So then, brothers and sisters, we are not obligated to the flesh to live according to the flesh, because if you live according to the flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” (Romans 8:12–13, CSB)

Here’s what I am learning. Paul asks me to slay sin, a theme that John Owen would later riff off as he famously quipped, “Be killing sin or sin will be killing you,” and I thought I was. But I was wrong.
Burying sin is not the same as killing it.
I’d take a stab at killing my sin, I’d strike at it with my willpower and see it step away into the shadows again. My foolish mistake was assuming I’d dealt it a mortal blow, some fatal slash, and so I would consider it dead and buried. I’d rise on the mountain-top victoriously. But now the horde grows close again. Buried sins. The ugly undead.
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I fear that rather than establishing a faithful path for Christians, Revoice is precipitating a grievous division in the American church. They do this first by grounding their reading of the Scriptures in secular ideology, second by insisting the disagreements about identity are purely semantic, and third by claiming to uphold a biblical sexual ethic while at the same time embracing those who reject this ethic, calling them Christian brothers and sisters.

Revoice 2021 Together met in October 2021 in Dallas to encourage what they call “sexual minorities” within the church to obedience, to reach out evangelistically to LGBTQ people, and to minister to “sexual majority” Christians. The conference featured Eve Tushnet, Preston Sprinkle, Greg Johnson, Misty Irons, Greg Coles, and many other speakers, as well as panels on gender minorities, racial minorities, and women. With an emphasis on community support (reflected in the theme “together”), the speakers called the gathered assembly to be obedient to a biblical sexual ethic, as well as acknowledging the pain that the church has caused to those who identify as LGBTQ.
Revoice 2021 positions itself in the theological mainstream, as if the controversies surrounding the conference and movement are purely semantic. The wider evangelical church, for example, by policing the language of people who identify as LGBTQ, are said to erect artificial barriers for entrance into the kingdom of God, akin to those of New Testament era Judaizers. Revoice, as a movement, is prepared to forgive and reach out to those in the church who are complicit in this grave sin, but the church should repent and move on from these kinds of debates for the sake of mission and the witness of the gospel.
Rather than a purely semantic disagreement over whether or not to use the word “gay,” the language applied to self-hood and identity by Revoice points to underlying philosophical and theological assumptions that Christians should identify themselves by sexual behavior and inclinations, grounding this identification in a secular gender ideology rather than the Scriptures. Furthermore, by framing the semantic issues as Side A and Side B — referring often to “Side A brothers and sisters” — they make the question of sexuality, both behavior and identity, to be adiaphora, a non-essential issue that Christians are free to disagree about. Rather than a “slippery slope,” both the ideology and language that Revoice is embracing will eventually take them over a spiritual cliff.
“The Gospel is for men as they are and as they think they are,” writes John Taylor in The Primal Vision: Christian Presence amid African Religion. He wrote in the middle of the last century, half a world away from the debates and controversies surrounding Revoice — an “annual gathering for Christians who are sexual minorities” seeking to “flourish in historic Christian traditions.” Taylor asks, “What has the Christian, present in such a world, to share or to learn about the self?” He posits one answer to that question — which is ours as well — with a line by Dr. J. H. Oldham: “The individual self has no independent existence which gives it the power to enter into relationships with other selves. Only through living intercourse with other selves can it become a self at all.” As if to take up that very work, Revoice’s 2021 theme was “Together.” That word encompasses, for them, the extraordinary communion they share because of their various sexual identities. Though they cannot engage in the actions associated with those identities — sex — experiencing sexual identity provides a deeper and richer sense of what it means to be human in relationship to other people. Their LGBTQ posture toward the world offers a baptism of affirmation to those of every sexual orientation.
With calls to be fabulous, to worship and adore Christ, but overall to be obedient, the speakers at Revoice, though at times defensive in their articulation of frustration and pain, positioned themselves as the new theological mainstream. Rather than continuing a protracted and contentious argument with critical voices in the church, they see themselves both as forging a way forward that reaches out evangelically to a world soaked in LGBTQ assumptions, and as uniquely called to minister to a too long ascendant Christian sexual majority culture.
I was by turns heartened and troubled as I watched the Revoice21 Together conference, the fourth conference since its founding in 2018. To stand publicly for sexual fidelity in celibacy and marriage and to proclaim the universal need for repentant belief in the gospel in a decadent time such as this is, to understate it, courageous. And, from that exposed and isolated position, especially when considering the grief represented in a room full of people who also feel rejected by other Christians, it is understandable that the leaders and speakers of Revoice would say that purely semantic matters of identity are settled. Continued disputes threaten to destroy the witness and mission of the whole church.
Nevertheless, I fear that rather than establishing a faithful path for Christians, Revoice is precipitating a grievous division in the American church. They do this first by grounding their reading of the Scriptures in secular ideology, second by insisting the disagreements about identity are purely semantic, and third by claiming to uphold a biblical sexual ethic while at the same time embracing those who reject this ethic, calling them Christian brothers and sisters.
If Revoice were to listen, however painfully, to what their critics are trying to say, it might be possible for the fissures to be mended and unity in the church to be restored. However, from the murky theological and philosophical assumptions articulated by many speakers, as well as the repeated reference to people who call themselves “Side A Christians” (people who believe that God has created and blessed monogamous homosexual relationships) as “our Side A brothers and sisters,” I fear it will not be so.
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What Mr. Hervey also means by the “separation of law and gospel” is as unclear to me as some of the issues of the Statement seem to be to him. How the separation of law and gospel relates to the issue at hand is also a puzzle to me.  The same statement, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” is part of law AND gospel. This needs further elaboration and I look forward to it.

Mr. Tom Hervey has offered a lengthy and searching essay concerning a Statement by Coordinators and Presidents of committees and agencies of the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), that appeared in ByFaith webzine concerning racial justice. In his thought-provoking essay, he takes the agency heads to task on many issues that need further discussion. I believe that many of the points he makes in his piece are excellent, well balanced, and represent an honest, Christ-centered commitment to the Scriptures and to our common faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

I certainly applaud Mr. Hervey’s concern that zeal without knowledge is not productive. I share his concern.  My hope is that Mr. Hervey will continue to read and think deeply about the experiences of people of color, present or past.  However, some of the assumptions lead me to believe that more research and careful listening is needed.
For one thing, the issue about who “we” are. The article lists the staff.  Responsible people and those who feel that they must respond to the times.   One could ask the same question of the Founders in their drafting of the Preamble.  Certainly, “we” did not include everyone either.  Justice and righteousness is something to strive for.  It is part of the race we are in.  Whether or not Mr. Hervey agrees with the authors of the Statement, one must ask who he does identify with if not the “we” included in the Statement.
Hervey suggests that in a time of moral foment that words spoken in truth and humility are NOT likely to be well-received so perhaps we should find some other vehicle. But for the people of God, the current climate should never dictate whether we respond biblically. Is he distinguishing between law and gospel here?  I hope not.  Truth and humility, especially when I am under pressure from unbelievers are non-negotiables according to I Peter 3:15-17.
He insists that the writers of the Statement do no exegete the Scriptures properly. However, I want to point out that the Statement does not say that foreigners were MORE oppressed than citizens but that they were oppressed and Isaiah calls this out as sin.  Missing from the Hervey’s discussion is the clear prohibition of such in the Exodus 22.  Why is the command even there? To remind the Israelites that they, too, were ethnic strangers in Egypt and oppressed.  In other words, don’t do it – you know what it feels like (empathy?) Yet he chooses to quibble with the fact that sometimes foreigners were the oppressors themselves within national Israel.  I’m not sure I understand all the ink devoted to watering down the clear prohibition of oppression of outsiders.
Hervey also appears to erect a straw man by assuming that “people of color” and “ethnic outsiders” are synonymous when the Statement does not imply such a relationship. Ethnic outsiders could include any category of immigrants. And need I remind the author of an entire OT book devoted to such sojourners/outsiders? I really don’t understand the point. Don’t oppress the vulnerable.  Period. We do not want to lower ourselves to the clever gymnastics of pro-slavery apologists trying to counter the growing abolitionist sentiment in the Antebellum era. Suddenly there was this crying need to defend the institution of slavery by clever exegesis without dealing with the other, more basic scriptural issues such as the impact of slavery on the institutions that God had created – the family for one.
To me it is perplexing that he attempts to undercut the argument of extending justice and care for all people in Exodus to make the argument that this passage did not include criminals and the Canaanites. I would not imagine linking the two together. I am not sure why he does.
Too, his quibbling over the meaning of “Jesus serving outsiders proactively,” makes me want to ask more questions. Precisely then how does Mr. Hervey define service? Does it include evangelism? Healing? Preaching?  Or are these separate categories of ministry (perhaps I shouldn’t use that word since it is a synonym of “service”). And if Jesus’ initiation of contact with the Samaritan woman was not proactive, then how would the author define it?  Reactive? Jesus initiated the contact and chose to take the direct route through Samaria rather than around it as many devout Jews would do.  And how does he assess the value of the parable of the “Good Samaritan” which clearly would have been an insult to devout Jews (represented by the priest and Levite)? I could go on. Does not the Holy Spirit’s initiation of the mission to Cornelius qualify as “proactive?”  Philip’s trip to Samaria?  His conversation with the Ethiopian eunuch? One pillar of the Reformed faith is that God is always the proactive one.  We are not.  Hervey seems to imply that because Jesus’ interactions with Gentiles were few, that they were relatively unimportant. Unless, of course, one delves into Acts, right?
His discussion of the passages in Galatians and Ephesians regarding spiritual and social unity is certainly on target. However, I fear that these same arguments are often used as an excuse for Christians to avoid confronting injustice in biblical terms wherever we find it. When I was in the Air Force, I confronted a senior NCO who was using some very inappropriate language toward a young female airman.  Should I have refrained from this because there was no specific command to do so?  The author’s argument has often anesthetized churches against confronting any injustice, including racial injustice, especially in the 20th century or failing to carefully listen to the voices of the oppressed wherever we find them.  And when they did, they were labeled either liberal, social gospel advocates, outsiders, or worse, Communists.  Today, they are just called “woke,” leftist, socialist, and yes, Communist. To paraphrase Samuel Johnson’s words about calls for American liberty from Britain, I find that the loudest calls for the status quo come from those who do not take these voices seriously.
“But it is a fair question just what is entailed in standing against injustice in the church.” I am reminded of the question of the Pharisees to Jesus in Luke 10:29, “But he wanted to justify himself,” so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”  I believe Mr. Hervey is a godly, skilled expositor and interpreter of Scripture. Surely, he would recognize that the authors of the Statement are not advocating a radical socioeconomic restructuring of our church and a muzzling of the gospel but a recognition that there is or there may be a problem and we need to do something about it. Only in the area of racial injustice does there seem to be a pulling back from the clear demands to examine ourselves.
I also find the analysis of Jesus response to the question of the Tower of Siloam and Pilate’s brutality curious. Jesus responded to their questions in ways that truly revealed their hearts.  After 9/11 I heard John Piper speak of what should be a similar response to the question of that tragic day.  People who ask such questions are focused less on socioeconomic injustice than they are about why “bad things happen to good people.”  Jesus cuts right through that.  And so should we. Jesus responded in much the same way that he did with the question about taxes to Caesar. He was not going to be drawn into a trap by dealing with secondary issues.  Neither should we.  But if the matter is a primary issue for which prophetic responses are appropriate, this is a different story.  Here, we must go back to the role of the Church in every age for calling out injustice.  We did it in the early church with infanticide, with gladiatorial combats, with indulgences, with slavery, with fascism, with Bolshevism, with civil rights, with abortion.  Are we to stop now because we are afraid of misunderstanding the terms of the fight?  The answer to that is not less talk about the issue but more and, as Mr. Hervey rightly points out, more precise talk.  And all in love.
I am not sure where Mr. Hervey is going in his brief comment about Romans 13:10. In attempting to separate law and gospel he believes that Paul is not discussing the gospel but the Law. The author is correct but only in a limited sense.  And, as I am sure Mr. Hervey will recognize, although Paul lays out the gospel in Romans chapters 1-11, the applications of the gospel present themselves in the beginning of chapter 12 and continue to the end of the book.  Just as he did in Ephesians and Colossians.
“This may seem an unfair charge….” Hervey seems to believe that the expression of sorrow over oppression would therefore, logically include supporting those whose values we do not share (i.e. BLM).  I agree – this is certainly an unfair charge and I am puzzled why the author would include it. It is, however, consistent with his fears that recognizing our responsibility to condemn and destroy racism automatically leads to losing ourselves in social justice movements and destroying our mission.  One does not logically follow the other.  It reminds me of the many fears generated by Black equality in the 50s and 60s which I will not go into here.  It seemed logical to those who feared it.  But it is a fear.  That is all.
Perhaps if the Statement had defined its terms more carefully, Hervey may have had less of an issue with its so-called ties to “contemporary activist rhetoric.” Unfortunately, apart from three examples (also inadequately explained) he seems to fall unintentionally into similar errors.  It may have helped if he had cited precisely what makes these terms “activist rhetoric” and to cite the sources he is using.  Certainly, we can all profit from careful attention to definition and eschew the claims of CRT. Yet labeling something as “contemporary activist rhetoric” rather than careful exegesis of why this rhetoric does not align with Scripture takes more than the paragraph allotted for it in this essay.
The author’s comparison of the level of rioting with the 1960s seems to be ahistorical. Suffice it to say that “1960s rioting” taken over several years beginning with the tragedy of Watts in 1965 cannot be compared with what took place over the past two or three years. I am not sure where the author has obtained his history of the 1960s.  It is important to keep in mind, too, that many of the key marches and rallies in that decade and since the Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955-1956 were non-violent although there was plenty of provocation that would have made them violent apart from commitment of the movement’s early leadership to Christian non-violence. It seems that the author is gravitating toward a “Et tu, What-about-them?” argument rather than engaging with the Statement’s aims and designs.
The author also contends that certain so-called “contemporary activist rhetoric” identifies sins that the Bible never calls out including “racial sins,” “silence in the face of racial injustice,” privilege.” This statement reminds me of the argument I often here that since Jesus did not condemn homosexuality, it must therefore be ok. When we approach those sins – any sins in the light of God’s complete revelation from Genesis to Revelation we realize how extensively corrupt our sinful hearts really are – especially those of us who are redeemed. The Puritans practiced a form of self-examination at least weekly before the Sabbath – rigorous as it was – to root out every conceivable barrier between them and God. Dare we do less? Can I claim that because the Scriptures do not specifically call out racial sins that I am therefore not obligated to repent of it if I am guilty of it? Do I look at an attractive woman and then look at her again?  Do I steal a few paper clips or a sharpie from my desk at work? Do I unconsciously look behind me on the street because a person of color is following me or hold tightly onto my possessions? Do I get nervous when a see a car full of young Black men circling my block at night? If the answer is “yes” or “maybe” to any of these questions, I need to take a Puritan approach to my own indwelling sin, call it whatever you wish.
Certainly “All Lives Matter, as Mr. Hervey says.” But I must remember when I make that claim that I have just communicated something very different to the person making the claim that “X” Lives Matter. I have told them in so many words, that their experience or pain means nothing to me. What if it were a believer confessing a real and painful encounter to me? Do I disregard their own real experiences simply because “All Lives Matter?”  Doesn’t this violate the nature of the body of Christ and our call to suffer and rejoice with those who are suffering and rejoicing, as the author rightly pointed out earlier?
I grew up white in Honolulu – not on a military base, not in the middle-upper class communities that attended private schools but poor, on welfare, and the product of a single unmarried mom. Thus, as a minority, I was extremely conscious of my color and how intensely hated I was in some areas of the city. Suppose I mentioned this to some of my brethren and was be greeted with “All Lives Matter”’ I would feel that the message really was “Your experiences do not matter – your pain does not matter and therefore, you do not matter.”  All lives matter, but so do individual lives.  And we are called to love individuals. One cannot picture “all lives.”  But I can picture one.  And loving and taking seriously the claims of one does not mean that I reject the others.  Love is not a zero-sum game – if I love Joe, I cannot therefore love Jack.
We can and should ask for clarification of terms as Mr. Hervey does. But I must always ask myself the same questions I ask unbelievers who are testing me.  “If I answer your question to your satisfaction, will it influence what you think about Jesus Christ?”  If the answer is “No, then I do what Jesus did when asked about the authority of John the Baptist, “Then neither will I tell you.”  So, my question to my brother in Christ is this – if the Statement did answer your questions to your satisfaction would it influence your own reading, listening to, spending time with people who are really hurting in these ways?  I must assume that the answer is yes.
Hervey appears to narrow privilege to economic privilege and there I agree with him. But to assume that this is all that privilege is narrows it outside of reality. Certainly, we are aiming for equality of opportunity rather than outcome but let’s take the issue of privilege further.  In 1960s and early 1970s Honolulu, I longed for the privilege that came from having Asian or Pacific heritage.  I’d be able to blend in.  I’d have teachers who looked like me (I had three during my K-12 years). I also wouldn’t be beaten up on the last day of school or isolated in Boy Scouts.  I also wouldn’t be teased by my 7th grade shop teacher for being white and dumb. I have since spoken to my peers in education who have been pulled over in their own neighborhood because of their color, had the cops called in front of their own house. Privilege is real.  The larger question is, am I humble enough to investigate its manifestations, both present and past, without succumbing to unscriptural ways to dismantle it?
Hervey believes rightly that Scripture speaks for itself. This was a hallmark of the Protestant Reformation and its leaders’ desire to put the Scriptures into the hands of the people in their vernacular.  But it was also recognized that Scripture needs to be interpreted.  And a false interpretation can lead to disaster.  So, when my brother contends that we merely need to let the Scripture speak for itself and not be influenced by contemporary movements or worldviews he is absolutely right.  The problem, though, is that history is replete with examples of misinterpretations of Scripture.  Using the Scripture to one’s own end.   Sometimes I fear that many of my brothers are doing the same thing and I too, must be careful of using the Bible for my own selfish ends. Too many times in American history have we forgotten that our interpretations merely service our own worldviews.  Lincoln recognized this in his Second Inaugural Address. In rejecting the German Christian movement’s antisemitic “Aryan” view of Scripture in Nazi Germany, so did Bonhoeffer.  White supremacists insisted on the natural inferiority of people of color because of the so-called curse of Ham. This is why we need to listen carefully and read carefully to draw conclusions that do not accord with the Word of God.  It takes a tremendous degree of humility and openness to correction to do this.   As a history professor I shudder at how much I took for granted until I really started to do this. The assumptions I hear and read on all sides of the ideological divide astonish me.  God preserve me from unwarranted assumptions about the people around me. One thing I have noticed is that our society asks few questions anymore.  I mean real questions about people that are designed to help me get to know them. No, the questions I see in print and elsewhere are more like the questions a prosecutor poses to a witness.   They are accusations disguised as questions and designed to win – not to understand. And, as Proverbs 18:13 warns, giving an answer before one hears is a folly and shame.
I am not sure if Mr. Hervey is actually charging the writers of the Statement with unintentionally seeking to overthrow God’s government or providence. Perhaps it appears that way.  But conflating the Terror of the French Revolution and its outcome with the aims of the Statement seems to be on the level of the assumptions I mentioned earlier. May we seek to understand before we seek to destroy, whether these be systems or arguments.
Again, I don’t understand how Mr. Hervey separates the message of the gospel with its practical implications. As I view it, the Statement merely commits us to rooting out sin wherever we find it. If that sin is idolatry, it needs to go.  If it is greed, it needs to go.  If there is any kind of systemic injustice, it needs to go.  But to paraphrase the author, what if there is no idolatry?  What if there is no greed? Sin has consequences; it is written all over our history. The most deceitful thing we can say to ourselves is, “I don’t need to examine myself in this.  I am clean.”  Perhaps we are. But I would rather “examine myself (constantly) to see whether I am in the Faith” (II Cor. 13:5). That is my calling.  That is the calling of the Church.
What Mr. Hervey also means by the “separation of law and gospel” is as unclear to me as some of the issues of the Statement seem to be to him. How the separation of law and gospel relates to the issue at hand is also a puzzle to me. The same statement, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” is part of law AND gospel. This needs further elaboration and I look forward to it. Unfortunately, although the writer severely takes authors of the Statement to task for its application section, he does not seem to offer any real solutions himself beyond the exhortation to preach the gospel. I certainly applaud that. Workable solutions take time, work, love, blood, sweat, and tears.  Perhaps this too, will be elaborated.

Chris Bryans is a member of Northside Presbyterian Church (PCA) and teaches history at Eastern Florida State College in Melbourne FL.
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