In 2011 Rob Bell published Love Wins. Then there was the reaction, the vitriol and damnation. There was Justin Taylor’s all too swift public drubbing. There was the infamous Piper-tweet. I felt sad. Sad that Bell seemed to veer in his theology all for the sake of provocation. Sad how fast we forgot Bell is a brother first and a provocateur second.
We watch, we skim, we post, we stir the blogosphere—our new means of burning our so-called heretics. The Internet provides everyone with a voice. We can be as loud and thoughtless as we want. It’s our right. Isn’t it? I disagree.
Though we will not always agree, we can at least act considerate and thoughtful in our public interaction. The Teacher reminds us, “Whoever belittles his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding remains silent.”
Some argue for rebuffing poor theology when it’s publicly disseminated. I can see merit in this argument. But we must consider the venue and our motives—and the option of silence. We don’t always have to be the first to respond, to post, to tweet.
When Christ bids us to follow him, he bids us to die, said Bonhoeffer. Our posture looks like self-sacrifice, not self-love and platform building. Are we fighting the good fight when we seek corrective measures for those with whom we disagree? Or are we just spouting off our own opinions? The Internet, when poorly stewarded, allows us to throw up cheap grace as our license to say what we want, how we want.
Consider The What
But it’s not only how we respond, but what we discuss.
Toggle forward a few years and Christian infighting and cynicism is commonplace. I’ve had two close friends, both prominent Christian leaders, feel the brunt of the Christian Internet battle mace. They received personal attacks and one blogger used harsh expletives. Expletives, it seems, are the new Christian buzzwords (but that’s another post).
There was also the Rachel Held Evans controversy, with regard to an explicit word used in her new book A Year of Biblical Womanhood. Evans fanned the flame of controversy by tweeting and blogging about “the word.” Why? What is the point? Can we not settle editing discussions offline with our editors?
There are, however, bright spots. Like when popular blogger and author Tim Challies asked Ann Voskamp for forgiveness because of what he wrote in his review of her book.
He said, “I had neglected to remind myself while writing it [the review] that Voskamp is a real person and, not only that, but a sister in Christ. As a writer myself, I ought to remember that words are meaningful and revealing and in some way a part of the person who writes them.”
Silence Is Golden
In 2011 I interviewed Notre Dame professor and church historian Mark Noll. He said, “there’s not a whole lot of serious Christian reflection on hot-button issues. Christians,” he continued, “are less inclined to offer a well developed theological position on cultural topics.”
The more I watch how we interact with one another online and what we produce for the general public in terms of thoughtful content, I am inclined to agree with Dr. Noll. Is Rob Bell merely stirring the theological pot for the sake of stirring it? Provocation for provocation sake? Maybe, maybe not.
This much, however, I do know: any Christian who holds a position of influence, especially those who lead other Christians in worship each week, should prayerfully weigh what issues need raised and whether those issues will provide up-building—as Kierkegaard calls it—for the family of God.
We need responsible stewards, thinking leaders who reflect on the “why” of what they’re writing and speaking about before pushing the “publish” button. Sometimes I feel like Christians clamor for the limelight of the ether for no other reason than platform building—a dangerous direction, centered on the self rather than others.
The national pop-media operates as the theater for the absurd, a stage for reactionary opinions, media stunts and self-worship. And this is the table at which some evangelicals wish to sit? Christians offer little to the public discussion on searing cultural issues, like gay marriage for example, other than ideological hoo-ha from both theologically conservative and liberal perspectives. Has our ambition for influence hobbled our witness?
“The leader of the future,” writes theologian Henri Nouwen, “will be the one who dares to claim his irrelevance in the contemporary world as a divine vocation that allows him or her to enter into a deep solidarity with the anguish underlying the glitter of success and to bring the light of Jesus there.”
A New Christian Solidarity
To be a Christian is to be one with Christ, just as Christ himself is one with the Father (John 17:11). Our solidarity with Christ should, therefore, define us in a fragmented world bent on ripping one another to shreds online.
It’s no small thing that Christ’s final thoughts center on the apologetic of unity. But Christians love divisions, quibbling over methodologies, bickering within the ranks. Increasingly we seek distinction from one another rather than from the world—as Jesus prayed.
“The time is always ripe for re-union,” wrote C.S. Lewis. “Divisions between Christians are a sin and a scandal, and Christians ought at all times to be making contributions towards re-union, if it is only by their prayers.”
I find that my prayers fail here. I don’t pray as I should for Christian solidarity. I find myself wanting to respond to posts and articles and books and pastors—to react and not to think, to oppose rather than pray. Perhaps instead of “live-tweeting” we should practice live study, live discernment, live restraint.
The trail towards unity rests in abandonment of self. How we respond and what we decide to write about online should stem from a contrite spirit and it must always seek the betterment of others. That is the Christian way. “As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” (John 17:18) Christ sent us to serve, to die, to heal, to hold to truth, to love in the complete sense of the word.
As I follow hard after Christ I find the more I wrap myself in him—and thus abandoning myself—the things that might otherwise cause division within my heart fall away. I am engulfed in Christ and feel the solidarity of the Three-In-One grow in me a guided love—one that values truth and goodness; one that wraps me in His glory, beautifying this ugly skeleton of a man.
As I prepare to engage in the fragmented world before me, I prepare for the difficult task of living in solidarity with Christ—with a living and brilliant solidarity with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
May the sentiment of Lewis’ words here be our prayer as we seek daily to stand united, together as one. “I sometimes have a bright dream of re-union engulfing us unawares, like a great wave from behind our backs, perhaps at the very moment when our official representatives are still pronouncing it impossible.”
Stop the Beating
And so what of our public interaction on the Internet? Perhaps our goal for public square interaction should be to give the world reasons to come to our table, to see what we are up to: thoughtful interaction, love-guided action, deep reflection on issues that matter, humility and honor. Perhaps then we would spend more time reflecting theologically about the cultural hot-button issues and less time turning out shallow, reactionary rhetoric that suits CNN, FOX, USA Today, or the New York Times Bestseller List.
To change metaphors, Imagine how unsightly we, the body of Christ, must currently appear, to have one side of our face colored with the red and purple hues of a split lip and beaten eye from our infighting, and the other side of our face colored with the tan and rouge hues of likability lipstick and marketability makeup.
How sad that we, the family of God, continue to attack one another like stubborn, spoiled siblings, seemingly clueless that we’re reducing our Divine family to a reality-TV show—making the ratings but missing the point.
“The goal is for all of them to become one heart and mind,” prayed Jesus for his followers, “just as you, Father, are in me and I in you, so they might be one heart and mind with us. Then the world might believe that you, in fact, sent me.”
*For interested parties, I will be posting articles on my site www.timothywillard.com discussing more nuances of this argument. Like, how to disagree civilly, how to develop a content rubric and an “ether theology” and the importance of writing in community.
You touched on it. My husband and I pray daily that we wouldn’t fall under that spirit of cynicism, but it’s the sin of our own heart and selfishness. Thanks for holding up a mirror to my heart this morning. It’s an easy pattern to fall into. My husband was just saying last night, “How do we change of culture of being cynical?” I think it has to begin with me, with us, with our own hearts. ~Kristin
Thanks for the note, Kristen. Cynicism is an enemy of the age for sure. In fact, my friend Jason and I are working on a follow up bok to Veneer: Living Deeply in a Surface Society called The Brilliance: Finding Beauty in the Shadows of Life. In one section we discuss this ethos of cynicism and how to topple it. Not only do we possess the antidote, we can BE the antidote with our online offerings. Thanks again!
“When Christ bids us to follow him, he bids us to die, said Bonhoeffer. Our posture looks like self-sacrifice, not self-love and platform building. Are we fighting the good fight when we seek corrective measures for those with whom we disagree? Or are we just spouting off our own opinions? The Internet, when poorly stewarded, allows us to throw up cheap grace as our license to say what we want, how we want.”
Yes. Some things need to be brought out into the light and I think some things are blogged about merely to be shock journalism and bring attention to the writer. There is a fine line indeed but many times, these shocking posts have jolted me out of my comfortable Christianity to question what I believe. In turn brining moe further into the arms of Jesus and his grace.
Thank you for the post, Timothy. Some very good reminders here.
I do want to clarify that the word I wanted to use in my book was not an expletive, but rather the anatomically correct word for female genitalia – vagina.
Whether it was worth the controversy that ensued to include this word in my book is certainly up for debate, but I do want to clarify that so that readers are not under the impression that I was asking to include something like the f-word, or the b-word, or the n-word, or something more offensive.
Thank you, Rachel, for the kind words. Seriously. I certainly do not want to imply to readers that you were espousing the use of “expletives” in your manuscript. I used “explicit” to (hopefully) draw that distinction. And yes, the debate, I think is my point. Thus my question, “Why?” This is the question, in my opinion, should direct our thinking as to what content to discuss and not to discuss–and is the question I’m constantly asking myself. What I fight, and I’m sure that many writers fight, is the chance to provoke in order to be read and heard. So, sorry if I implied you were begging for cussing in your manuscript.
I am really unsure how the correct word for a body part is “explicit”. I think we can all conjure some explicit words for vagina in our minds, but that is irrelevant since those weren’t used. Also, I feel like you are minimizing and simplifying the controversy around Rachel’s book, which was about so much more than the “explicit” vagina word.
^ This.
Excellent! This put into words something that has been growing in my heart for quite some time. Sometimes I feel so grieved when I see the things people post on FB etc… Thanks!
Yes, thanks Stacey. I know what you mean!
Just a quick note of clarity… The main credit for the Challies/Voskamp dust up goes to Ann. She’s the one who responded graciously and directly to Tim’s criticism. It was certainly a credit to Tim that he asked forgiveness, but it is far, far harder to respond with grace and kindness when someone has trashed your book–especially the kind of trashing that Tim did in his post. When I read Tim’s review, I was livid on behalf of Ann because I couldn’t believe he painted her as such a dangerous person. That she personally reached out and invited him to dinner speaks volumes of her Christian character. The wounded person reached out to heal, and THAT is what sounds most Christ-like to me.
Great clarification, Ed. Than you for posting it. I admit too, when I read the review I was taken aback. Agreed that Ann’s character shone brilliantly here. And that, to your point, IS the point. May we all learn from her reaction.
I was going to say that same thing, Ed. But I think Tim Challies’ public response to Ann reaching out to him was equally important. He could have kept it to himself, knowing that Ann would never say anything, but he didn’t. Both of them responded in ways I highy respect.
Yeah, I was not taking away from Tim asking for forgiveness, just filling in the details. My point is that making that first step toward reconciliation as the one who was wounded (and wounded deeply since I know Ann really respects Tim) was pretty astounding. I’ve had my own books trashed and have endured some insults online for what I believe, and trust me, I never think, “Wow, that’s someone I should invite over for dinner!” So while apologizing is huge, and even doing it publicly is better, the power of God’s reconciling love is most evident through Ann’s actions.
Amen, Ed. I agree with you. Ann is a dear friend, and the gracious way she handled the harsh criticisms was the most Christ-like response I’ve ever seen.
Excellent, Tim. This has been a place of growth for me. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve ever been caught up in publicly defending my own position as I have interpreted scripture and pointing out what I perceived as error in others. It creates a no-win situation – wasting valuable time, energy and effort in reaching the world for Christ.
BTW, I gave my copy of “Veneer” to one of our associate pastors and he has shared many of your illustrations in various sermons since. Thank you, Tim, for all you do to call us up to be winsome followers of Christ.
Patricia, thanks for sharing your thoughts on this. I can relate. As for giving your copy of Veneer to your associate pastor … well, thanks! So glad he could use the content. Very encouraging.
I understand your point, Timothy, and I affirm it. It’s a path I’m learning to walk in myself, particularly as a writer online. But I confess I’m struggling with receiving the wisdom of this piece because it’s only deliver after you publicly called out other writers and bloggers yourself. It’s falling a little flat for me. (Also, last time I checked the word “vagina” isn’t actually explicit or profane.)
Thanks Sarah, for your honesty. I will tell you I struggled with the “examples” used here, and I actually removed one major one. My prayer and hope is that the spirit of the piece comes through–not as me “calling out” others but learning from the past. I let several people read it before I posted, confident they would let me know if the tone wasn’t God-honoring. I’m sorry that you find it flat because of my example choice. That was not intended. Thanks again for your feedback!
I’m afraid that while I agree with the sentiment that too much infighting is hurtful to the individuals involved and counterproductive to following Jesus, I have to disagree with the application. Your essay left me wondering if you are confusing unity with uniformity. Christians will not all see things the same way, nor must they. We unite in Christ without being uniform. After all, Jesus describes us a a body made up of many parts. If we strive for uniformity, we will be a body made up of all fingers or toes.
We ought to be able to discuss the variations and the nuances and the disagreements we have over how to love and how to serve and how to participate in God’s redemption of the world without being called divisive or “not edifying.” I came out of a church that labeled any variation, any question, and any suggestion or hint that another choice or view might have merit as “divisive.” This is my personal baggage, but what I hear echoes of those church leaders in this essay: Don’t be divisive; be quiet; any disagreement is divisive.
In my limited experience, my willingness to discuss variations of orthodoxy and orthopraxy has *attracted* people from outside the church. They are drawn in when they see us open the doors and allow room for discussion and nuance and varying opinions. My Buddhist and Jewish and atheist and homosexual friends are willing to talk with me BECAUSE I stand apart from the edifice of “conservative Christianity.”
Hello Joy, Great response. Thanks for taking the time to read the post.
I completely agree that we should not be uniform. We are certainly the body made up of many parts. But it’s interesting to me that the primary metaphor for the church in the corpus of scripture is “family.” And in my piece I’m drawing on that to hopefully pull us more together with regard to our online interaction.
I don’t expect everyone to hold my theological positions. But is it wrong for me to expect civil discourse? As “family” I’d love for us to treat one another as brothers and sisters. Sometimes I fight with my brother but it’s usually one on one, never in public. And there is always reconciliation.
I’m sorry you hear echoes of your past church leaders in these lines (I can relate to such a past). Perhaps I wasn’t specific enough about the importance of diversity, though I did invite those interested to engage in other posts where I will discuss those nuances, like how to disagree with civility and grace (see last highlighted line of the piece).
I don’t feel I’ve confused unity for uniformity–though you’re welcome to disagree! Ha!
My chief concern is that we remain vigilant and wary that our differences don’t become a source of division and pride.
Thanks again for sharing your thoughts. Would love to engage more on the “how to disagree with civility and grace” issue! Cheers, Tim.
Thank you, Tim. I really appreciate this. I have {on more than one occasion} chimed into these online debates only then to delete the post entirely. I find that I {sometimes} feel I should chime in just to show that I am reading and listening and not some silent family member refusing to engage in the conversation. What keeps me from usually participating, however, is my belief that, for the most part, these conversations happening online can be misheard and misunderstood. Much online discourse is lost in translation. I have come to think discourse, over the phone, over a meal, sitting on couches in green rooms, in hallways of conferences, on facetime or google chats, and such, provide a much healthier forum to my actually ‘hearing the heart’ of my brother. That is not to say it can’t be done online, but it takes a great deal of discipline, humility, and respect to read what someone writes as literal as they wrote it (in the context of their story, voice, and tone) and with a posture of grace. We have to take the time to get to know one another so we really hear one another.
I’m mulling this one. Most of the things I want to comment on are tangents to the post, and so to me seem a little pointless right now. I feel that silence and public discourse need tension. Prayerful though definitely needs to go into what is said.
This isn’t new, though. It’s not a modern technological phenomenon. It just happens more quickly. Reading the letters that went back and forth between bishops and then the letters amongst the Protestant Reformers…they could have peppered their words with a little more grace. Especially Luther.
It is time for these words to be spoken, written about and practiced. Isn’t arrogance entwined in this attitude of blasting someone? “I have such a great mind, I know what is right, you don’t, My way is the right way” No wonder the world turns away disgusted from us. By the way, I loved the book by Rob Bell. I felt like his was also a truth that someone finally needed to say.
No place for pause these days. Love your wise, thoughtful, words. Full of gentle challenge….even though I know you can get far more fired up. hahaha…
You are so right about the misdirection. I so totally agree with the idea of prayer, not infighting. Set your affection on things above!!!
I grew up in a “christian school” where I was made to sign a contract for my behaviors and beliefs. This included, among other things, NOT reading the “cult” writings of C.S. Lewis.
Labels, blame, judgemen- were my daily menu. Thankfully, I went on a hunger strike, and after becoming independent, I met my husband who was full of Gods Grace. I then had a choice of two roads for my life, bitterness and a big swerve away from steeples, or belief that Gods grace extends to even those who misuse it in His name. I believe Paul when he said “we do not wrestle with flesh and blood”. Lay your weapons down! PRAY!!
It used to be said “He’s so heavenly minded he’s no earthly good.” I am beginning to ask “Am I so earthly minded I’m no heavenly good?” Only Jesus FROM HEAVEN was good for both places! We need to go back and read the red letters very carefully until we too are salt and light here, and also seated in the heavenly places in the Messiah.
Very interesting discussion here, Tim, and I find myself on both sides of ‘the table’ you’ve described, I think. Although I do not take on writers with whom I disagree at my blog, I do believe that some bloggers are actually called to do exactly that. I do not have the gift of prophecy, but I think Joy Bennett and Rachel Held Evans and Sarah Bessey and several others just might. And those gifts are for the good of the body – so when they write strong words, I support that and encourage it and hopefully receive it with grace and openness. But when respected church leaders with whom I disagree choose to denigrate those writers (or anyone who disagrees with them), I think that needs calling out. It can be done gently, as in the Voskamp example discussed above. And it can be done with more fire. I don’t think name-calling helps anyone, ever. But I do think disagreement should be encouraged when non-truth or vitriol is being spilled in the name of Jesus.
There is much of merit in your article. I strongly agree that believers need to grow in their abilities to publicly interact in a mature, sincere, and understanding manner. Sure, we are all too eager to write people off, or to stir up controversy for the sake of excitement. So I agree with you, that we need to re-learn our internet discussion methods and approaches. I completely agree. Discourse ought to be civil.
That being said, from what I can tell I completely disagree with the particular path of thought that you take to get there. I think I can best illustrate by means of a quote from your article:
“Sad how fast we forgot Bell is a brother first and a provocateur second”
There is a very real sense in which I think that statement ought to be reversed- and, were we to do so in our most fundamental ways of thinking, it would [ironically] actually solve much of the social problems that we seem to have. See, it is because we insist on slapping the label “brother” on anyone and everyone that we end up feeling betrayed when -very possibly- there was never a real unity at all.
So:
We forget that Bell is a provocateur first, and a brother second.
Of course, that could be taken in a completely wrong way, so let me clarify. What I mean is that a person’s profession of Christianity is really rather meaningless. Obviously, if Christianity is denied, then the denier is not Christian- but simply because a person says “I am a follower of Christ” (or “I am a brother”) does not in any way demonstrate that they actually are. The Christian definition of a Christian is not (and has never been) a person who calls himself a certain thing, but rather someone who is, by their nature, a certain kind of person.
If we have that framework in place, that frees us up from so many of the complications at hand. From that point, all we have to do is have the concrete, civil, rational discussion of what exactly the defining features of a Christian are. Perhaps “provocateur” is incompatible with “Christian brother.” Perhaps not. Regardless, the actual question with Rob Bell -and everyone else- is the concrete, objective, honest discussion of whether they match the description of a Christian. Maybe so. Maybe no. If we establish that the answer is “no,” insults have gone out the window- we can simply look someone in the eye and say simply, calmly, and civilly:
“Look. We don’t believe the same thing. According to my beliefs, we are not the same kind of creature. It doesn’t mean I’m a smarter or better person than you- it simply means that we are different, and so one of us is wrong. Let’s talk about that. I’ll hear you out.”
There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing harsh there. Defining the real differences, not carelessly throwing insults around. It’s how progress can be made.
It’s disturbing to me that there is so little charity in Christian dialogue. We see Biblical commands for gentleness in speech towards one another (Ephesians 4, for example) and we seem to think, “Yes, but if they’re wrong, the Bible condones me flaming them.” No it doesn’t. You’re COMMANDED to gently love your brothers and sisters, even as you might bring strong correction by the Word. It’s like the preachers I hear at times that go out of their way to be offensive “because the Gospel is offensive.” Yes, but that is precisely the point. The Gospel is already offensive enough. Why are we so afraid to be kind? In my opinion, there is so much fear about bad ideas that it skews the conversations towards extremism (or, ahem, Pharisaism) to make sure we’re not soiled by all those nasty ideas. I can embrace a brother or sister and bring correction if the time and venue is appropriate with a genuine humility and love for them that desires to see them living in light of the full counsel of Scripture. I can disagree strongly and clearly. But I don’t have to go to great lengths to crush them. When I’ve done this, I’ve either noticed within myself a frightening lack of love and/or fear that my ideas might not stand up to theirs. I don’t presume to read myself into everything I hear from others, but I can’t help but think it exists out there in humanity in greater numbers than one. It’s a shame. What if the world saw a Church that could prioritize Jesus, His divinity, sufficiency, and triumph, and embrace all of those that have also (joyfully!) responded to the same? Shouldn’t we be able to vigorously pursue the Truth, comforted in our disagreement by the fact that though we might disagree passionately, we are made family by the work of Christ? Sadly, I think we’re more often busy figuring out who should be chucked out of the family, rather than enjoying all of those that bear the family resemblance.
On a completely different note, I have no idea what the full contents of Rachel Held Evans’ book look like. I assume I’d agree with some and disagree with some, as is the case with most books. But I cannot for a moment begin to see the logic of tossing a book out for using the word “vagina.” Thinking about it makes me so annoyed that I’m about to veer into a type of family-bashing that I just railed against.
But let’s just leave it at the fact that it seems illogical and doesn’t speak well about the Christian community’s ability to have a discussion about anatomy, much less stuff like (whispers) s-e-x.