We Have Sinned and Grown Old
We see trouble; they see beauty. We see monotony; they see creativity. We see a nuisance; they see a story. Oh, how much we might learn from them, how much more we might see through their eyes. G.K. Chesterton writes, “Children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony.” (Orthodoxy, 81)
One afternoon this summer, my 6-year-old came running through the house to find me. His eyes were wild with excitement. “Dad, you’ve got to come look — right now. Come look, come look, come look! Hurry, you’re going to miss it!”
We raced back to the living room, to the big window looking out over our backyard. From the day we moved in, that window has been our favorite room in the house. My son’s eyes searched one of the trees, searching and searching, and then he saw it again. “Dad, there! There! Do you see it? Do you see it?” And I did. Probably 25 feet up in one of our tallest trees was the backside of a big raccoon, comfortably perched out on one of the branches.
I mean, at first, we assumed it was a raccoon (too big to be a squirrel, too small to be a bear, too fat and furry to be a bird). We sat transfixed, watching that rear end — waiting for the animal to eat, or climb, or fall, or even just scratch an itch. Then it moved. Its tail swung down where we could see it, with its trademark black and gray stripes. “Dad, its tail! It is a raccoon!”
As I looked in my son’s eyes — and there was so much in those eyes — I saw a wisdom I once had and now sometimes struggle to remember. For that moment, he was my teacher, and I was his son.
Monotony or Creativity?
For the “mature” like me, raccoons are almost immediately a nuisance. They make homes under porches and climb down into chimneys. They tear away shingles and break holes in walls. When we see them, we reach for the phone to pay someone to come and remove them. Within a business day, if possible.
When my children see a raccoon, they see an entirely different creature. They’re not worried at all about the structural integrity of porches or the possibility of a four-legged home invasion. To them, animal control may as well be the KGB (just watch any animated movie with animal control workers). No, when they see a raccoon, it may as well be a triceratops. They don’t see problems; they see curiosities. They ask questions (lots of them): Where did he get his stripes? Why is he sleeping during the day? Does he have any friends? Can I pet him? We see trouble; they see beauty. We see monotony; they see creativity. We see a nuisance; they see a story.
Oh, how much we might learn from them, how much more we might see through their eyes. G.K. Chesterton writes,
Children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. (Orthodoxy, 81)
What 6-Year-Olds See
I recently felt my flabby imagination when our family went to pick KinderKrisp apples at a local orchard. Having tasted apples every week of their lives, it was our children’s first chance to actually grab one from a tree.
You could see their minds spinning, trying to connect the dots — they knew both apples and trees, but could not imagine them holding hands like this.
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Worship is the Fuel for Helping
Isaiah remained a faithful prophet of God for a very lengthy ministry. And he wasn’t just really good at one thing. He wasn’t only one of those preachers that was amazing at beating you up and bringing a flood of conviction. He was also one of those preachers who helped you heal. Likewise, he wasn’t just filled with syrup and sugar. His words could lay you bare and have you snot-crying without a moments notice. That’s really what the gospel does, though. It breaks when we need broken and heals when we need healed. Isaiah was that type of gospel minister.
“How’d you keep from quitting?”
That’s the question that I would love to ask the prophet Isaiah. I’ve always wondered how he kept from being bitter and jaded. Deep discouragement has to accompany years of seemingly fruitless ministry.
I’ve had seasons which felt like nobody is listening but I’ve never been there. I’ve also wondered how in the world did Isaiah remain faithful to the message. Did he ever flirt with the idea of tweaking it a bit to make it more palatable to his countrymen? Did he ever think that maybe a different tone would turn the burnt stump into a mighty oak of ministry? I bet this guy had to hate going to the monthly meeting with area pastors…”how many did you baptize this month, Isaiah?”
But Isaiah remained a faithful prophet of God for a very lengthy ministry. And he wasn’t just really good at one thing. He wasn’t only one of those preachers that was amazing at beating you up and bringing a flood of conviction. He was also one of those preachers who helped you heal. Likewise, he wasn’t just filled with syrup and sugar. His words could lay you bare and have you snot-crying without a moments notice. That’s really what the gospel does, though. It breaks when we need broken and heals when we need healed. Isaiah was that type of gospel minister.
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Nowhere, Now!
How can Jesus be so demanding and expect us to belong nowhere and follow now? The demand is so extreme. But the key is to look at who is saying the words. Jesus had no home in this world. He left his eternal home and entered into this world in the most humble of circumstances. He was born in a peasant town and laid in a manger. He was an infant refugee in Egypt, then grew up in Nazareth – a place with a rubbish reputation. Nazareth was a rest stop on the way to somewhere better. And then, once he launched into his ministry years, he had no home of his own in this world.
What is the greatest commitment we see in our world today? Is it the commitment of a classical musician, or a sports professional? They say it takes 10,000 hours of practice to really master any skill. Apparently, it takes nine to twelve months of specialist training to be ready to attempt to climb Mt Everest. While the idea of commitment may be dismissed by so many in our society, there are still countless people dedicating themselves to various pursuits.
In Matthew 8:18-22, Jesus speaks about commitment at an extraordinary level. After three chapters of the Sermon on the Mount (chapters 5-7), Matthew seems to be shifting to an all-action presentation of Jesus performing healing miracles. He heals the leper, the centurion’s servant, and Peter’s mother-in-law. It feels like we have left the teaching block behind and settled down for an action-adventure section of the Gospel. But then we come to these few verses and two powerful sayings of Jesus about commitment.
Essentially, Jesus declares that to follow him means to belong nowhere and the demand is to follow now.
Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side. And a scribe came up and said to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
MATTHEW 8:18-20
Belong Nowhere! – The scribe sounded so committed. He would follow Jesus anywhere! But Jesus pointed to the rhythm of creaturely life. A fox? It gets up and puts in a night shift touring its territory, marking the boundaries, catching a vole or two, enjoying some worms and bugs, even feasting on some berries if the opportunity arises. Then, when its work is done, it returns to its hole and lays down its head to sleep. Work done, it heads for home.
Just to reinforce the point, Jesus mentions birds too. They wake up nice and early, some get in a singing practice before dawn, then head out and fly the skies looking for food. Some catch flies mid-air, others swoop down for voles and mice, while others prefer seeds and worms. Then, when their work is done, they return to their nest and lay down their heads to sleep. Work done, they head for home.
Every creature is the same. Including humans. Wake up, work, head home, and sleep. But not Jesus. His work never seemed to be done. When he finished healing Peter’s mother-in-law, then many more were brought to him late into the evening. When he headed out early to a deserted place, he sometimes found crowds looking to get more from him there too. And Jesus was not home. We never read of him heading back to Nazareth for a home-cooked meal with mother Mary.
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Encouragement and Caution for Culture Warriors
There is no one-size-fits-all approach to cultural engagement. Christians with a different political calculus, with various regional sensibilities, temperaments, or experiences, may choose different courses of action. Debate over the best course of action is good and necessary. But culture warriors and culture engagers alike must be careful not to criticize unfairly or demean brothers and sisters whose different choices are not out of line with confessional faithfulness but flow from prudential judgments about how best to be faithful in the public square.
What should Christian public engagement look like as we move forward in this era? So far in this series, I’ve laid out some of the challenges facing traditional Christianity, and why it’s no surprise that some on the right claim a more combative posture is necessary for pushing back against harmful ideologies and practices in society.
Some Christians seem to believe that confrontational or combative approaches to public theology are inherently sub-Christian. This is not the case. Christianity has a long history of people willing to speak truth to power, to call into question the reigning ideologies of the day in the name of Christ the King.
Too often, the negative label of “culture-warring Christians” gets applied solely to Christians who oppose ideologies common on the left. When left-leaning Christians call out politicians or pastors who support sinful beliefs or behaviors common to the right, they get described as “prophetic” and “courageous.” This is unfair. Culture warring requires two sides, and one can be a left-wing culture warrior just as easily as a right-wing one.
But, speaking of being “prophetic,” sometimes, we think courage and boldness consist in bloviating bluster, “destroying” the opposition, “owning the libs,” or mocking the “nutcases” we find on the other side of the aisle. No. It takes little courage to be bold in opposing those whom your closest friends, family members, or online followers would expect you to oppose. What takes courage is to police your own side, to call out the problems not only in “the culture” but in your particular subculture, to buck the consensus of your own tribe and go against the people whose favor you usually enjoy. Compromise always involves capitulation, but capitulation can happen in more than one direction.
It seems likely that we will see a return to something akin to the older culture-war mentality among younger evangelicals in the years to come. Rather than rule that option out of bounds, I think it better to offer some encouragement and caution for younger evangelicals who are enthusiastic about this mode of public engagement.
The Reality of Christian Warfare
First, let’s dispense with the idea that warfare has no place in Christianity. I remember restraining my laughter when, 15 years ago or so, progressive Christians were protesting the “unbiblical” martial imagery of many Christians and churches. In taking aim at conservatives, they were shooting the Bible.
The language of spiritual warfare is pervasive in the Old and New Testaments. Jesus blessed the peacemakers and called us to turn the other cheek, and yet he said he came to bring division, not unity. His was the sword that separated son from father, and daughter from mother. The apostle Paul used martial imagery, as did the other apostles. We are on a spiritual battlefield. The response to such circumstances is for the church to be, dare I say, militant. Downplaying the stakes fails to do justice to the Bible itself.
In this battle, Christianity is “on offense”—not in a way that implies we should seek to be offensive, to take it as a badge of honor when others are offended. No, to speak of Christianity “on offense” is simply another way of describing the image Jesus gave us when he said that the gates of hell will not prevail against his church. Jesus’s statement imagines the church moving outward, plundering hell, and pushing back the forces of darkness. Passivity has no place in the Great Commission.
The Danger of Misidentifying the Enemy
But the danger for Christians who apply the New Testament’s warfare motifs to political engagement is that we can easily misidentify the enemy. The apostle Paul makes clear we do not wrestle against flesh and blood. It’s the church moving forward into battle against the powers and principalities that hold people captive—against the evil forces that wreak havoc in our world, the supernatural realities the Bible describes as present and persistent.
We must distinguish the serpent from his prey. This is why we seek to convert our opponents, not own or destroy them. We seek their rescue, not their ruin.
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