There are two things (we’re told) we should never talk about. Religion and politics. That’s difficult… and silly.
A few days ago, two women and I – standing in a very public place – avoided the “safe” topics found in the pages of People magazine to enter into dialogue about the election and matters of faith. I don’t know either of these women very well, but I believe that when we are attentive to facial expressions and body language, we can usually recognize another person’s willingness (or unwillingness) to dialogue. Experience proves to me that a great many people are hungry to talk about issues of faith and life, but they need an invitation to speak whatever might be on their mind or hidden in their heart.
Dialogue is sadly becoming a lost art. Perhaps we feel ourselves ill-equipped to speak about what may be emotional topics. Perhaps we’re afraid of conflict. But, it’s o.k. to disagree. Two people who don’t agree on something can learn from one another during the polite exchange of thoughts and ideas. If we keep silent and don’t speak about controversial issues of life from the Biblical perspective, we might miss the opportunity to comfort a hurting soul… to share a word of hope… to point to forgiveness and healing.
We need to break the silence and, with a caring and careful manner, talk about abortion, cohabitation, same-gender “marriage,” health care and, yes, the election. That’s what happened quite unexpectedly in a public store with two women I’ll call Ellen and Diane.
I know Ellen only because of family connections. I know Diane because she is a supporter of the pregnancy center where I volunteer. At a recent fundraiser for our center, Diane told me she didn’t think she could vote this year, “neither for a Mormon,” she said, “nor for Obama.” That comment stayed with me so, after greeting her in the store, I took the opportunity to tell her that I’d been giving some thought to what she had said about not voting. I asked her if she had ever considered that Thomas Jefferson, while not a believer in the deity of Jesus Christ, was nonetheless a defender of religious freedom and encourager of virtuous people. Diane admitted this might be applicable to this year’s election.
“It seems to me,” I said, “that we should vote for the man who will keep us the farthest from the edge of the cliff.”
At that moment, Ellen leaned in to the conversation. She smiled at me, then said to Diane, “Linda should be out speaking!”
That was an invitation to continue the conversation. With the invitation, however, also came a memory. A faint memory of Ellen’s past. After high school, Ellen left home in search of something different from the life of her parents. There were some rough years. I don’t know specifics. But, this memory prompted me to respond to Ellen.
“I am a speaker,” I said. “I’ve been a pro-life speaker for a long time.” But, I explained to Ellen, “it was only when I became a listener that I really learned.” Often, in a hallway or the restroom after my presentation, women would approach me, wanting to confess their abortion. The pain in their voices, I told Ellen, compelled me to dig beneath the symptoms of promiscuity and abortion to the real problem.
“We’re in spiritual battle, Ellen. It seems to me that Satan and our Savior both desire our attention, but what they have in store for us is very, very different. Trusting ourselves, we are deceived and bound for trouble. Satan offers no comfort when we fall. But, even after our sin and in the midst of consequences, Jesus stands close with arms open wide.”
Ellen’s eyes never wandered from mine. Her cheeks were moist. I suspicioned that she was thinking about her own life.
“We all have a story,” I said. “We all have a story.”
At that point, we needed to go our separate ways. Ellen and Diane went to one part of the store for coffee, I to another. Within a half hour, one of my closest friends walked in the door. Jane was in town to visit her mom. We had not planned to meet, but apparently God had a different idea. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” I asked. We settled into chairs at a table across the room from Ellen and Diane who were enjoying their time together. When they got up to leave, Diane and I waved to one another. Then she headed for her car.
Ellen, however, approached our table. “That conversation we had mattered,” she said. “This afternoon has been good.”
She kept looking at Jane. “There’s something familiar about you. Do I know you from high school?”
Jane looked surprised. “Oh, my goodness,” she said. “We graduated the same year, didn’t we… but that was a long time ago.”
Ellen pressed on. “Weren’t you in a serious car accident? I remember reading about it in our class reunion book.”
“I was,” Jane said, “and God sent mighty angels to protect me that day.” She gave a few details. Then paused. Ellen could have excused herself and said good-bye. But, she didn’t. This was another invitation.
“Ellen,” I said, “the fact that Jane is here with us today is God’s amazing grace, but she has another story to tell… a powerful story of Christ’s work in her life. She doesn’t tell this particular story publicly, but . . .”
At this point, Jane interrupted. “No, I don’t tell my story, but I’ve given Linda permission to tell it.”
“And it’s so important that I do,” I continued. “It’s after I share Jane’s story that other women are more willing to come up to me and share their own stories. They tell me they feel more welcomed and less alone and vulnerable. Jane’s story is one of hope. It reminds others of how patient God really is and that He never turns His back on us. We may walk away from Him, but our Father never abandons us.”
“There is so much fear,” Jane spoke up. “It can be overpowering.”
“It is,” Ellen agreed. “It is overpowering.”
“I’ve come to believe,” I added, “that every one of our wrong choices is made out of fear… fear of being out of control or unloved or insignificant.”
It was long past time for Ellen to go be with her family, but she lingered. She seemed to be searching for words. “I came home to visit my parents, but never would I have imagined meeting up with the two of you or having a conversation like this.”
Ellen continued. “Do you know what this afternoon has meant to me? I’ve been close to losing my faith . . . I was told by my parents that my life and the lives of my children have been difficult because it’s punishment for the sins of my youth, but you have reminded me that God doesn’t work that way.”
No, He doesn’t. “There are consequences of our choices – good or bad,” I said, “but rather than punishing you, it seems that God is staying the course with you.”
Jane nodded and said, “I thank God every day that He never lets go.”
Ellen hugged Jane. Then me. “Thank you. Thank you for this visit. For the honesty. What a difference this has made for me.”
Jesus makes the difference. Jesus – the very Word of Life – speaks to every important issue of our day. Trusting Him, we can dare to break the silence. Ellen was hungry to hear someone speak to the concerns she has about our nation. Even more, she was hungry to get personal… to hear someone remind her that sins of the past may affect our lives, but do not have to bind us. Newness of life in Christ is real. We are forgiven and set free to start our lives over.
What do you think? If we who claim to know the Lord of life are afraid to dialogue in the public square about issues of life, what will happen? What won’t happen?
We may not want to make waves, but what about a ripple here and there?
Ezerwoman's Blog 
The Church Has Failed the Culture
Posted in Commentaries of others, Culture Shifts, Faith & Practice, Life issues, Parenting & Education, tagged " homosexuality, Biblical worldview, Christianity, church, environment, hymns, Jesus Christ, judgment, millennials, religion, sexuality, sin, social justice, the Cross, worship on August 8, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Recently, the Presbyterian Church (USA) dropped the hugely popular hymn, “In Christ Alone,” from its hymnal after its authors, Keith Getty and Stuart Townend, refused to omit a reference to Jesus satisfying the wrath of God.
In a powerful response over at First Things, which we’ll link to at BreakPoint.org, Colson Center chairman Timothy George quotes Richard Niebuhr who, back in the 1930s, described this kind of revisionist Protestantism as a religion in which “A God without wrath brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross.”
The response from the PCUSA, that their problem was not with God’s wrath but with the idea that Christ’s death satisfied God’s wrath, doesn’t change the fundamental problem of what George calls “squishy” theology. Theology is supposed to be true, not palatable.
Along these lines, maybe you’ve seen the recent viral opinion piece on CNN by
my friend, Christian blogger and author Rachel Held Evans. In it, Evans offers her answers to the truly important question, “why are millennials leaving the Church?”
To counter the exodus of young people from American churches, Evans says it’s time to own up to our shortcomings and give millennials what they really want—not a change in style but a change in substance. The answer to attracting millennials, she writes, is NOT “hipper worship bands” or handing out “lattés,” but actually helping them find Jesus.
Amen. I couldn’t agree more.
Then she goes on, “[the Church is] too political, old-fashioned, unconcerned with social justice and hostile to [LGBT] people.” Well, okay—anytime political programs co-opt our faith, or we ignore the needy and fail to love those with whom we disagree, we do the Gospel of Christ great harm.
But when she writes that attracting millennials to Jesus involves “an end to the culture wars,” “a truce between science and faith,” being less “exclusive” with less emphasis on sex, without “predetermined answers” to life’s questions, now I want to ask–are we still talking about the Jesus of biblical Christianity?
The attempt to re-make Jesus to be more palatable to modern scientific and especially sexual sensibilities has been tried before. In fact, it’s the reason Niebuhr said that brilliant line that I quoted earlier.
He watched as the redefining “Jesus Project” gave us mainline Protestantism, which promotes virtually everything on Evans’ list for millennials. The acceptance of homosexuality, a passion for the environment, prioritizing so-called “social justice” over transformational truth are all embodied in denominations like the United Methodist Church, the Episcopal Church and the Presbyterian Church (USA).
But religious millennials aren’t flocking to mainline Protestant congregations. Mainline churches as a whole have suffered withering declines in the last few decades—especially among the young. What gives?
Well, in an another essay which appeared in First Things over twenty years ago, a trio of Christian researchers offered their theory on what’s behind the long, slow hemorrhage of mainline Protestant churches:
“In our study,” they wrote, “the single best predictor of church participation turned out
to be belief—orthodox Christian belief, and especially the teaching that a person can be saved only through Jesus Christ.” This, said the researchers, was not (and I add, is still not) a teaching of mainline Protestantism. As a dwindling denomination rejects a hymn which proclaims salvation “in Christ alone,” this research sounds prophetic.
Evans is right that evangelical Christianity is responsible in many ways for the exodus of millennials. But ditching the Church’s unpalatable “old-fashioned” beliefs to become more “relevant” to the young won’t bring them back.
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