Why theology and ethics should be central in the Christian life
By / Aug 16

A few years ago, I was introduced to the Dutch Reformed theologian and ethicist, Herman Bavinck. His works began to revolutionize the way that I thought about the rich relationship of theology and ethics. Throughout my life, I have always (and rightfully) heard how the church must see the study of theology as central to our pursuit of God because that’s how we learn the fundamental elements of the Christian faith. God reveals himself to us through Scripture. The structure of church theological training and discipleship programs, especially within wider evangelicalism, demonstrates this emphasis on theology. They are saturated with doctrinal studies including a heavy emphasis on systematic theology, biblical studies, historical theology, biblical theology, and more. But studying Bavinck’s work helped me to see that we often fail to similarly prioritize the study and centrality of ethics in our pulpits, classrooms, and programs — missing out on a crucial component of Christian discipleship.

Bavinck saw the two fields of theology and ethics as inextricably related to one another. For him, dogmatics (or theology) is most closely related to ethics than other fields like philosophy. Even though theology and ethics are “not materially different,” they are nevertheless “formally distinct.”1Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, ed. John Bolt, trans. John Vriend, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids, Mich: Baker Academic, 2003). 1:57. He argues that while it is not wrong per se to treat theology and ethics separately, this separation has the effect of “depriving ethics of its theological and Christian character.”2RD, 1:57-58. He describes this integral relationship between dogmatics and ethics as “related members of a singular organism.”3RD, 1:58. Bavinck beautifully illustrates their interrelated and dependent relationship in the first volume of Reformed Dogmatics by stating,

Dogmatics describes the deeds of God done for, to, and in human beings; ethics describes what renewed human beings now do on the basis of and in the strength of those divine deeds. In dogmatics human beings are passive; they receive and believe; in ethics they are themselves active agents. In dogmatics, the articles of the faith are treated; in ethics the precepts of the Decalogue. In the former, that which concerns faith is dealt with; in the latter, that which concerns love, obedience, and good works. Dogmatics sets forth what God is and does for human beings and causes them to know God as their Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier; ethics sets forth what human beings are and do for God now; how, with everything they are and have, with intellect and will and all their strength, they devote themselves to God out of gratitude and love. Dogmatics is the system of the knowledge of God; ethics is that of the service of God.4RD, 1:58.

In a similar passage in Reformed Ethics, Bavinck states that “our ethics proceeds from God, is through God, and is for God. Also, in our ethics it is God who reveals to use the truth about sin, regeneration, sanctification, how we are to live in the state, and so forth.”5Herman Bavinck, Reformed Ethics, trans. John Bolt (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Publishing Group, 2019). §4:26. An important element of Bavinck’s scriptural vision for both dogmatics and ethics is tied to the role of revelation. He states, “ethics is as closely related to and fully dependent on Holy Scripture as is dogmatics,” thus speaking to the needed emphasis and study of these two disciplines.6RE, §4:26.

Bavinck here is picking up on the work of the German theologian Christoph Ernst Luthardt, who states, “God first loved us is the summary of Christian doctrine. We love Him is the summary of Christian morality.”7Christoph Ernst Luthardt, Apologetic Lectures on the Moral Truths of Christianity, trans. Sophia Taylor, Second (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1876). 26. Luthardt also influenced the famed evangelical theologian and ethicist Carl F.H. Henry, who wrote, “love for another is the whole sum of Christian ethics.”8Carl F. H. Henry, Christian Personal Ethics, Second Edition (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979). 486. Thus, Christian doctrine cannot be separated from ethics — even if they can and in some instances should be studied as distinct disciplines according to Bavinck. A fully formed Christian ethic must be tied to the realities that God has not only created the entire universe with a particular end, but also spoken to his people about how they are to live in light of his lordship.

I was reminded of this beautiful relationship of theology and ethics this past week when my friend Bart Barber shared, “Systematic theology divorced from biblical theology and historical theology is an unaccountable despot.” Barber is exactly right, and that same logic applies to the study of theology when it is divorced from the study of ethics. It is dangerous and deleterious to our witness to emphasize one aspect of the Christian life to the near total neglect of the other. I think we do this because we tend to think of ethics merely as the application of theological doctrine, rather than the study of how we live in light of those truths. While this does not mean that we should neglect to study God’s Word through a theological lens, it does mean that we must emphasize the rightful place of Christian ethics in our study and pursuit of Christ — not just in the academy, but from our pulpits and discipleship strategies in the local church.

  • 1
    Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, ed. John Bolt, trans. John Vriend, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids, Mich: Baker Academic, 2003). 1:57.
  • 2
    RD, 1:57-58.
  • 3
    RD, 1:58.
  • 4
    RD, 1:58.
  • 5
    Herman Bavinck, Reformed Ethics, trans. John Bolt (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Publishing Group, 2019). §4:26.
  • 6
    RE, §4:26.
  • 7
    Christoph Ernst Luthardt, Apologetic Lectures on the Moral Truths of Christianity, trans. Sophia Taylor, Second (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1876). 26.
  • 8
    Carl F. H. Henry, Christian Personal Ethics, Second Edition (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979). 486.

How to keep your faith in college
By / Jun 22

When facing doubts and fears, the last thing you want to do is isolate yourself and struggle alone. Sometimes we do that because we don’t think others will understand. Or maybe we feel embarrassed that we are questioning our beliefs. But we have to be honest about our struggles and bring them into the light. This is why your involvement in Christian fellowship on campus is so important. 

You need a deep, strong group of believers on campus who can support you when you walk through tough times. Lean on them. Let them speak truth to you. Let them encourage you to persevere. That’s what the body of Christ is for: “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” (Eccles. 4:9–10).

Study your faith deeply

I know that the last thing you want to hear right now is that you need to do more study. You probably think you have enough coursework to occupy your time! But the study I am talking about is even more important. If we are going to battle our doubts, we have to be committed to studying God’s word. And I don’t mean just studying passages of Scripture (as important as that is), but I mean diving deeply into the entire Christian worldview so that we understand not only what we believe but why we believe it.

If you think about what causes your doubts, you will realize that each of those causes can be addressed (at least in part) through deep study. If a person has intellectual doubts, studying the evidences and reasons for the faith can help quell her concerns. If a person has lost his way morally, the word of God can be a reminder of the importance of obedience and how God empowers us to follow him. If a person has dealt with great suffering, a deeper understanding of the nature of God—his goodness, his sovereignty, his purposes for evil—can provide great comfort and perspective. And even if a person is a chronic worrier, the Scriptures speak to that too. The psalmist shows us how to trust God with our fears: 

Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place . . . no evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent. (Ps. 91:9–10) 

Here’s the point: good theology matters. A believer with a solid theological foundation is able to handle these difficult questions better than a person who has a shallow understanding of the Christian faith. And good theology is not automatic. One must study diligently to attain it.

Get wise counsel

Even if you have solid fellowship, and you are committed to deep study of God’s word, you still need to lean on Christians who are wiser, older, and more mature. After all, you are not the first Christian in the history of the church to wrestle with these things. Many have gone before you, and you need to learn from them.

Who can provide this wise counsel? Well, one obvious answer is a pastor at your church. Pastors are trained to handle such difficult questions and are therefore a great resource for finding help. Again, this is why being part of a good church is so important. You can also get wise input from a biblical counselor, someone trained to help apply God’s word to the issues and problems we all struggle with. And of course, you can look to a mentor, perhaps an older believer who has invested in you and is looking out for you. 

Doubt your doubts

When we doubt some truth of Christianity, we often don’t realize that we are doubting that truth because of some other belief we hold. In effect, then, we are swapping out one belief for another. If so, then when we find ourselves doubting one of our Christian beliefs, we can fight back by challenging the belief that replaces it. Timothy Keller provides a helpful example.1Timothy Keller, Making Sense of God: Finding God in the Modern World (New York: Penguin, 2018), 39. Imagine you meet an atheist who turns out to be kind, happy, and moral, and this makes you doubt whether Christianity is really true. A little reflection will reveal that there is another belief that is feeding this doubt, namely, the belief that atheists ought to be bad, awful people. And since they’re not bad, awful people, then you doubt your faith. 

But it is precisely this belief, argues Keller, that you should challenge. Why should we think that atheists must be awful people? It turns out that such a belief is highly problematic. The Scriptures teach that even non-Christians can be outwardly kind and good by virtue of being made in the image of God. Moreover, the Scriptures also teach that believers are often serious sinners because we are saved not by works but by grace. So this alternative belief falls apart upon closer scrutiny. This is what it looks like to doubt your doubts. Fight against the belief that is trying to replace your Christian belief.

Grow from your doubts

While our doubts can seem like they’re destroying us, don’t forget that God may have other purposes for them. As strange as it sounds, there’s a certain spiritual depth, and a certain spiritual strength, that we will never reach without going through an intense season of doubting and struggling. When we push through such a season, we can find ourselves all the stronger on the other side of it. Indeed, some of the great saints of old have had to endure such trials so that they may prove more faithful in the end. Even Jesus himself endured a “dark night of the soul.” In the garden of Gethsemane, he suffered greatly under the prospect of what lay before him, in anguish even to the point of death (Matt. 26:38). 

Of course, in the middle of such doubts, it is not always easy to see what God’s ultimate purpose might be. Sometimes we cannot see it until it’s all over and we look back. It’s worth noting that it was when Martin Luther was in his darkest season of doubting that he wrote his most famous hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” And that hymn, born out of a period of doubt and darkness, has strengthened millions of believers since.

This article was originally published by Crossway.

  • 1
    Timothy Keller, Making Sense of God: Finding God in the Modern World (New York: Penguin, 2018), 39.

10 things you should know about John Stott
By / Apr 27

Editor’s note: John Stott would have turned 100 this year. And to celebrate his life and legacy, we wanted to share this article about Stott’s life from Tim Chester’s book Stott on the Christian Life.

1. Stott had multiple careers.

I wonder who you think John Stott is. You may know him as the evangelist who preached at student missions around the world. You may know him as a careful exegete whose contributions to the Bible Speaks Today series remain invaluable guides. You may know him from his preaching and the way he let the text itself shape the sermon so that you felt God himself addressing you. You may know him as a defender of evangelical orthodoxy against the threat of liberal theology. You may know him for his commitment to the Church of England and his famous confrontation with Martyn Lloyd-Jones after Lloyd-Jones had urged British evangelicals to leave their denominations to create a pan-evangelical body. You may know him as an advocate of social involvement who exhorted Christians to serve within the secular world. You may know him as a supporter of Christians leaders from the Two-Thirds World and the founder of the Langham Partnership. But did you know about all these facets of his ministry? It can sometimes feel as if Stott lived a dozen lives.

2. The main influence on Stott’s preaching was someone he never met.

The culture into which Stott was converted was one where preaching was only loosely related to the Bible. Yet a few years later, his preaching was electrifying congregations with sermons that gained their power from the text itself. Stott had spent the intervening years at university in Cambridge, and I believe it was a Cambridge preacher who transformed his preaching: Charles Simeon, the vicar of Holy Trinity. But Stott never met Simeon because Simeon was preaching in the 19th century—a century before Stott went to Cambridge. Stott met Simeon only through Simeon’s writings. “Simeon’s uncompromising commitment to Scripture,” Stott once wrote, “captured my imagination and has held it ever since.” In his London apartment Stott had various pictures on his wall of some of the places that had been significant in his life, but he had only one portrait—a portrait of Simeon.

3. Stott belonged to only one congregation.

Stott’s father was a doctor and lived in Harley Street, the area of London traditionally associated with the medical profession. The nearest parish church was All Souls, Langham Place, and it was there that Stott was taken as child. Stott spent his school days at boarding school and it was at Rugby School that he was converted. After graduating from Cambridge University, he was ordained and became a curate, or trainee pastor, back at All Souls under the then-rector Harold Earnshaw-Smith. But within months, Earnshaw-Smith had suffered a heart attack and Stott was largely left in charge. Five years later Earnshaw-Smith died and in September 1950, Stott became the new rector. Though not entirely without precedent, it was unusual for a curate to move straight to the senior role in the same parish. Stott remained at All Souls as Rector and then Rector Emeritus for the rest of his ministry. Only in the last few months of his life did he move to a retirement home outside London.

4. Stott was a successful student evangelist.

In November 1952, Stott returned to Cambridge, the university where he had studied, to be the main speaker at the triennial evangelistic campaign of its Christian union. Attendance was so great that at the final meeting, people had to be turned away. For the next twenty-five years, Stott spoke at numerous university missions all round the world before returning to Cambridge for his final university mission in 1977. The substance of his addresses, honed in many different contexts, became his book Basic Christianity, first published in 1958. It has sold over 2.5 million copies and been translated into over fifty languages, becoming the standard evangelistic book for a generation of Christians.

5. Stott was a pioneer in lay mobilization.

It’s pretty normal for churches today to organize people into home groups and mobilize them for evangelism. But Stott was one of the pioneers of this. In the 1950s and 1960s he began applying the approaches he had learned from student missions to the local church. In the 1950 issue of the All Souls church magazine that announced his appointment, Stott wrote: “The task [of evangelism] is beyond the power of the clergy. . . . There are only two alternatives. Either the task will not be done, or we must do it together, a task force of Ministers and people thoroughly trained and harnessed as a team for evangelism.” Stott introduced a regular guest service to which people could invite friends and launched a six-month training program (with a written exam at the end). Later he published his ideas along with their rationale in his book One People: Clergy and Laity in God’s Church (1969).

6. Stott was a major influence in changing evangelical views of sanctification.

I’m the chair of the Keswick Convention. Originally founded in 1875, it’s one of the oldest conferences in the world. People often associate the Convention with the “holiness movement”—a movement characterized by the belief that the power of sin can be overcome through an act of surrender to God. It was a dominant view throughout evangelicalism in the first half of the 20th century. This association of the Keswick Convention with the “holiness movement” is kind of correct. It’s just fifty-five years out of date! For in 1965, John Stott addressed the Convention, expounding Romans 5-8 in his characteristic clear, careful fashion. 

The Convention had never, in fact, been monolithic and it was beginning to change. But Stott’s address marked a decisive turning point that impacted not only the Convention but evangelicalism more broadly. His key point was that, while our union with Christ makes sin incongruous, it does not make it impossible. It’s because sin is not impossible that Paul calls on us to count ourselves dead to sin—to live in a way consistent with our new identity in Christ (Romans 6:11). In The Contemporary Christian Stott describes sanctification as a process involving “ruthless repudiation” and “unconditional surrender.”

7. Stott wrote the Lausanne Covenant.

Over 2,500 delegates met from the Lausanne Congress in 1974 in an attempt galvanize evangelicals toward the task of world evangelization. But Lausanne also did much to provide theological coherence to the evangelical movement and was an important milestone in placing social action firmly on its agenda. The resulting Lausanne Covenant is a key document in the history of 20th-century evangelicalism. Though agreed by the Congress as a whole, it was Stott who had the unenviable task of bringing the perspectives expressed in the Congress together in one document.

8. On the one hand . . . on the other hand . . .

Stott believed in what he called “BBC”—“balanced biblical Christianity.” He refused to polarize if he could avoid doing so, but neither did he opt for a docile version of the middle ground. We need to develop this balanced, biblical Christianity, Stott wrote, “by combining truths which complement one another and not separating what God has joined.” So a common feature of his writing are the twins phrases: “On the one hand . . . ” and “on the other hand . . .”. He would identify two contrasting approaches before combining the best of both. 

For example, he would often refer to “holy worldliness.” He rejected two extremes: living in a religious ghetto that ignores the surrounding world on the one hand and being shaped by the world around us on the other hand. Instead he combines both: a deep involvement in the world for the sake of mission combined with an uncompromising commitment to God’s Word.

9. Stott saw over 2,500 different species of birds.

Stott was a passionate ornithologist. At first his interest in natural history was focused on butterflies. But, when a cushion landed on his butterfly collection in the midst of a sibling squabble, he switched to birds. At school he started a natural history club. Later, when he started being asked to speak overseas, the church council at All Souls agreed to this wider ministry as long as Stott always added on a few days of bird-watching to his trips. A life-time later, Stott had spent time bird-watching on every continent—ticking off the final continent when friends gave a bird-watching trip to Antarctica for his 70th birthday. By the end of his life he had seen over 2,500 different species (out of an estimated total of 9,000).

10. Stott’s great ambition was Christ.

A TV reporter once asked Stott, “You’ve had a brilliant academic career; first at Cambridge, Rector at twenty-nine, Chaplain to the Queen; what is your ambition now?” Stott replied, “To be more like Jesus.” Stott’s classic presentation of the gospel in Basic Christianity starts not with humanity’s need (which forms part 2) or with Christ’s saving work (which forms part 3) but with the person of Christ. This is what Stott found compelling about Christianity. As we see Christ’s glory, we want to serve him; as we see his beauty, we want to imitate him. This is the repeated refrain of one of Stott’s final books, The Radical Disciple: 

If Christian maturity is maturity in our relationship with God, in which we worship, trust and obey him, then the clearer our vision of Christ, the more convinced we become that he is worthy of our commitment.

So if we want to develop truly Christian maturity, we need above all a fresh and true vision of Jesus Christ.

If only we could see Jesus in the fullness of who he is and what he has done! Why then surely we should see how worthy he is of our wholehearted allegiance, and faith, love and obedience would be drawn out from us and we would grow into maturity. Nothing is more important for mature Christian discipleship than a fresh, clear, true vision of the authentic Jesus.

For the discipleship principle is clear: the poorer our vision of Christ, the poorer out discipleship will be, whereas the richer our vision of Christ, the richer our discipleship will be.

Content adapted from Stott on the Christian Life by Tim Chester. This article first appeared on Crossway.org; used with permission.

How to guard your life and doctrine in seminary
By / Apr 21

Perhaps more than any other New Testament verse, 1 Timothy 4:16 arrives with both warning and promise for the ministry. The warning is more implicit; the promise is unmistakably explicit. Paul writes to Timothy: “Pay close attention to yourself and to the teaching; persevere in these things, for as you do this you will save both yourself and those who hear you.”

Note carefully the truth contained here. Implicitly, if we are careless with our doctrine or our living, our soul – and the souls of those to whom we minister – are endangered. How is this the case? If our lives or doctrine are off, we will prove an untrue guide for the sheep. We will invariably point them off course, leading them away from the Chief Shepherd.

Yet this warning is also pregnant with promise. As we guard our lives and doctrine, we ensure salvation for ourselves and those to whom we minister. Sound doctrine and sound living indicate we are authentic followers of Christ. They indicate a steady guide who leads the sheep toward, not away from, Him. 

While in seminary, much time will be devoted to your doctrine. It is a time of doctrinal formation – and that is a good thing. A seminary that does not prioritize your theological formation is not worthy of your tuition.

If you are not careful, though, an imbalance can develop. Books commenting on Scripture can replace the reading of Scripture itself. Paper writing can dry up your prayer life. Exercises for ministry formation can supplant actual, hands-on ministry. In other words, your doctrine can flourish wile your spiritual life flounders.

In his must-read book Exegetical Fallacies, D.A. Carson comments on this phenomenon by telling the story of one “Ernest Christian.” Ernest was converted in high school, was deeply involved in his college ministry, was growing immensely in Bible study and prayer, and sensed a call to vocational ministry. After being affirmed by his church, he moved off to be trained at seminary. Carson continues:

After Ernest has been six months in seminary, the picture is very different. Ernest is spending many hours a day memorizing Greek morphology and learning the details of the itinerary of Paul’s second missionary journey. Ernest has also begun to write exegetical papers; but by the time he has finished his lexical study, his syntactical diagram, his survey of critical opinions, and his evaluation of conflicting evidence, somehow the Bible does not feel as alive to him as it once did. Ernest is troubled by this; he finds it more difficult to pray and witness than he did before he came to seminary.

Anyone familiar with seminary life knows this story is too often true. Students arrive “bright eyed and bushy tailed,” ready to conquer the world for Jesus. They get immersed in academic work and theological debate – only to one day realize they have left their first love (Rev. 2:1-7) and forgotten why they are even at seminary to begin with.

This doesn’t have to be the case! There is a better way. Remember the apostle’s dual emphasis in 1 Timothy 4:16, and stubbornly guard both life and doctrine as you learn and grow. 

In truth, we must not choose between love of God and love of doctrine; it is not an “either/or” but a “both/and.” How do you truly love someone you don’t really know? The great Presbyterian theologian B.B. Warfield underscores this point:

Sometimes we hear it said that ten minutes on your knees will give you a truer, deeper, more operative knowledge of God than ten hours over your books. “What!” is the appropriate response. “Than ten hours over your books on your knees?” Why should you turn from God when you turn to your books, or feel that you must turn from your books in order to turn to God? If learning and devotion are as antagonistic as that, then the intellectual life is in itself accursed and there can be no question of a religious life for a student, even of theology.

The heart posture with which you pursue your education will make all the difference in the world. Reject a dry, stuffy faith built on knowledge alone; choose instead a thoughtful, deepening faith built on truth and love. 

Keys to guarding your life in seminary

In light of this danger, here is some practical wisdom that has proved helpful to me over the years. Consider five keys by which you can guard your life in seminary:

  1. Cultivate the spiritual disciplines. The spiritual disciplines remain the lifeblood for every believer. Prayer, worship, Bible intake, journaling, and others are essential for a growing follower of Christ – regardless of age or season of life. Forge these in seminary and prioritize them day by day. They will carry you through seminary and propel you forward for a lifetime of ministry.
  2. Establish healthy habits. Habits are easy to make and hard to break – bad habits at least. Good habits, meanwhile, require intentionality on the front end but can provide a lifetime of structure and reinforcing practices. Set your rhythms accordingly: awaken early, read your Bible before textbooks, commune with God before conversing with others, integrate fasting, pray with your spouse before going to bed, and so on.
  3. Prioritize prayer. As a nonquantifiable discipline, prayer is easy to gloss over. We know when we’ve read three chapters of Scripture; we may not be as aware when we’ve rushed through our prayer time. So keep a prayer list and a prayer journal. Tracking what you need to pray for will bring added motivation. Documenting God’s answers will inspire you all the more.
  4. Think devotionally about your studies. While some professors will draw the lines from their lectures to your spiritual formation, others will not. But you can draw them. Ask yourself questions like, What can I apply from their reading to my spiritual life? What sin does this lecture prompt me to confess? How will this assignment strengthen me for ministry in the local church? What new truth about God did I learn today? As you learn to ask the right questions, you will find yourself getting more out of seminary, spiritually speaking, than you ever imagined.
  5. Look for Jesus in all. Jesus is the apex of Scripture; therefore He should be the apex of your studies. Listen for Him in every lecture. Look for Him in every reading. Ask your professor how a given biblical passage connects to Him. For additional reading on this topic, I recommend How to Stay Christian in Seminary by David Mathis and Jonathan Parnell.

At the beginning of this chapter, I mentioned our move to Louisville for seminary training. That was early August 2001. Thankfully, for the three years prior, I served under Dr. Steve Lawson at Dauphin Way Baptist Church. Dr. Lawson was a pivotal influence on my life. He became not only a mentor but a dear friend and remains one to this day.

Dr. Lawson always took interest in young men called to ministry, and there were a number of them in our church. But I sensed he took a particular interest in me. One day I asked why. He reflected, “If a man has $100 to invest in a business, he wants to invest it in the business that will bring the greatest return. I am investing in you because I believe you will bring a return for the kingdom. Make sure you do just that.”

Dr. Lawson’s words inspired me then – and they still do. They convicted me then – and they still do. Such words remind me that my ministry is a stewardship – and so is yours. 

Many have invested much in you. God has called you. Christ has strengthened you. The Holy Spirit has gifted you. Churches have supported you. Pastors have mentored you. Family members have sacrificed for you. Benefactors have invested in you. Professors have taught you. Fellow students have encouraged you. 

You are a steward of a precious call, and so many others are invested in it with you. Therefore, you must guard your life and your doctrine. And seminary is one of the best places to establish healthy patterns to enable you to do just that. 

Excerpted from Succeeding at Seminary: 12 Keys to Getting the Most Out of Your Theological Education by Jason K. Allen (© 2021). Published by Moody Publishers. Used by permission. 

Understanding ethical systems: Consequentialism
By / Feb 16

In the final three articles in this series, we’re comparing and contrasting the most dominant ethical systems—deontology, consequentialism, and virtue ethics—to the standard of biblical ethics. In the first article we defined biblical ethics as the process of assigning moral praise or blame, and considering moral events in terms of conduct (that is, the what), character (the who), and goals (the why). As we’ll see, the problem with each of these other approaches is not that they are necessarily wrong, but that they are incomplete. 

A concise, though admittedly simplistic formulation, would be that deontology is concerned with the “what,” virtue ethics with the “who,” and consequentialism with the “why.” Because all three of these elements—the what, who, and why—are essential to biblical ethics, we can learn from each of these ethical systems. But while they have much to offer, we should always keep in mind that on their own they are incomplete.

What is consequentialism?

Consequentialism is a general approach to moral reasoning which holds that whether an act is morally right depends only on the consequences of that act for the person involved and/or all those directly affected by the act. If we ask, “Why should we choose a particular moral act or behavior?” the consequentialist would answer, “Because what is moral is what results in the best moral consequences.”

All ethical theories, of course, are concerned about moral consequences, and most have as their teleological emphasis (i.e., end goal) a moral outcome. But advocates of consequentialism would say that certain normative properties depend only on consequences. For them, it doesn’t matter if you are a moral person (as in virtue ethics) or followed moral rules (as in deontology), if an act has an outcome that is morally worse than an available alternative, then the action itself was immoral. Under this view, sometimes known as act consequentialism, an act is morally right when that act maximizes the good, that is, when the total amount of good-for-all minus the total amount of bad-for-all is greater than this net amount compared to the available alternatives.

Who decides whether the consequences were good or bad? Historically, consequentialists have measured the outcome based on a standard of hedonism, which holds that pleasure is the only intrinsic good and that pain is the only intrinsic bad. If the consequences are narrow and limited in who they affect, then it is the individual who determines the moral calculus based on their own self-interests. If the consequences are broader and can affect a larger number of individuals, then some collective group, such as society (or at least those within society who wield power) determines whether the act was moral.

The most famous form of consequentialism is classic utilitarianism. Jeremy Bentham, the father of modern utilitarianism, wrote in 1789 that,

Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to determine what we shall do. On the one hand the standard of right and wrong, on the other the chain of causes and effects, are fastened to their throne. They govern us in all we do, in all we say, in all we think. . . .

Bentham even proposed a mathematical model for ranking 14 pleasures and 12 pains, weighing pains by various factors to calculate the “happiness factor.” His disciple, John Stuart Mill, later refined this into “preference satisfaction,” in which what was good was having one’s desires fulfilled and what was bad was to have one’s desire frustrated.

What are the strengths and weaknesses of consequentialism?

There are many reasons consequentialism has maintained a broad appeal for the past three hundred years. A primary reason is that it is intuitively simple. It seems rather obvious that if given a choice between acts, we should choose the one that seems to provide the most moral outcome. We also do not need to rely on such metaphysical speculations as whether a divine being actually handed down rules that all humans must follow. Instead, we can rely on our own internal guidance system that tells us to avoid pain and maximize pleasure. What works for individuals must also work for society, so consequentialism promotes equality and liberty. Consequentialism is thus particularly appealing to liberal democracies, such as the United States.

The appeal of consequentialism for Americans is especially strong since we are pragmatic people who favor individual autonomy. We have a bias toward “whatever works” which emphasizes the consequences over the process. We also believe that individuals should determine for themselves what constitutes human flourishing, and so we believe we should be free to maximize our pleasures and minimize our pains.

The biggest weakness, at least for Christians, is that of the three theories under consideration, consequentialism is the least compatible with biblical ethics. In Romans 3:8, Paul clearly condemns the idea that Christians can “do evil that good may result.” Yet consequentialism proposes that we can commit any number of evil and unbiblical actions if the result leads to what we would consider a moral consequence.

Consequentialism has also resulted in the reduction of what counts as moral conduct. All sexual ethics, for instance, are reduced to consent, since anything else is determined by individual preference. When the individual becomes the primary decider of whether the consequence are justified, then we must allow for such choices as abortion or euthanasia since those may maximize the “pleasure” of the individual. It can even lead to the diminishment of the human person.

An example of an influential consequentialist is Peter Singer, the Ira W. DeCamp Professor of Bioethics at Princeton University. Singer has served as editor for prestigious philosophy journals, appeared on numerous television programs, and even penned the entry on “Ethics” for the Encyclopedia Britannica. He has argued, based on utilitarian grounds, that we have no reason not to experiment on babies or the mentaly disabled—“human infants—orphans perhaps—or retarded human beings” rather than animals since that is a form of “specieism.” (Singer has also compared the animal liberation movement to the “underground railroad” that freed human slaves in America.) He has also endorsed interspecies sex and the right of parents to kill their child not only within the womb but also up to the age of two years old.

The result of following the consequentialist logic of Singer is that it reduces the inherent dignity of human life. Rather than leading to a more moral society, pure consequentialism leads to the dystopia of an era when “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25) because of the lack of a coherent and transcendent foundation for ethical decision making.

In the last article in this series, we’ll consider virtue ethics, and compare and contrast it to the biblical standard.

3 ways smartphone usage can distort our perceptions
By / Jan 4

Several years ago, The New Yorker published their weekly magazine with what can only be described as a damning photo. On the magazine’s 90th anniversary cover (one of nine), the issue depicted a man holding a phone in what’s become a sadly ubiquitous posture. Ignoring a cloudy sky and the flight of a butterfly directly overhead, this man, with his thumbs at the ready, is “bent in on himself,” staring at his little “glowing rectangle.”  

If you spend any amount of time in public spaces these days, you observe this scene with unremitting frequency. In the grocery line, at traffic lights, even sitting across the table from a friend, the glow of our smartphones has pulled our attention downward and inward. More visibly than ever, we are creatures, as Augustine and Luther long ago described us, “deeply curved in” on ourselves. The iPhone, and all its representative progeny, could not be more appropriately named. 

The formative power of habit

One of the genius design features of the modern smartphone is that it places its user at its gravitational center. All smartphone activity revolves around the person holding it, creating a subconscious bodily ritual or liturgy, as Justin Earley argues in The Common Rule. What this means for us is that as long as we hold a phone in our hands, we function as the acting center of our universe. To put it more bluntly, our world becomes self-centered. 

We would likely all agree that our collective forward-hunched posture, the constant peering into the screens of our smartphones, is a habit we’ve let get out of hand. What we may not be aware of, however, is the formative power of this habit and its encroachment into all other areas of our lives. To that point, Earley argues that our habits, whether we’re aware of it or not, actively “form our hearts.” So, if habits, as he suggests, possess the power to shape us deep down at the heart-level, and one of our most frequent habits involves this inward bend toward a phone—and toward the self—we must ask: what sort of person is this habit forming us to be?

Habits and distorted discipleship

Our smartphones have more power over us than we’re willing to reckon with. We have sold our souls to these all-powerful devices in exchange for the very real conveniences they promise. And, in so doing, we’re reaping the consequences. No corner of our lives is left unaffected by our ritualized devotion to our phones, namely the three “corners” most consequential: knowledge of God, knowledge of self, and love of neighbor. In effect, this yielding to our phones has disrupted and disordered these most fundamental competencies of the Christian faith. 

  1. Knowledge of God

John Calvin, in his Institutes of the Christian Religion, says that “wisdom consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.” In modern life, as we have turned inward, we have deprived ourselves of this wisdom that Calvin speaks of. Being “deeply curved in” means not just that we’ve neglected our pursuit of God and the knowledge of God, but that we’ve convinced ourselves—thanks, in part, to this bodily liturgy—that his existence is inconsequential. 

Being self-centered is a statement of theological belief with real-life consequences; it is an act of enthronement, a declaration of the assumed supremacy of the all-powerful “me.” This ritual that we daily participate in, if we lack prudence and vigilance, is actively forming us wayward from the God who made us. Our constant phone-ward gaze is a visual representation of just how absurd self-centered living looks. 

  1. Knowledge of self

Without the understanding that “our very being is nothing else than subsistence in God alone,” as Calvin says, then our ritualized, self-centered habits will only perpetuate a deeper and more rigid commitment to our own perceived self-importance and self-sufficiency. Bending inward upon oneself does not beget a greater knowledge of oneself. Rather, it welcomes the whispers of our foe (Gen. 3:5) and seeks to reign independently rather than in submission to our Maker. 

When we view citizens as digital avatars instead of people, or when we engage with fiery rhetoric instead of gentle Christlikeness, we can be sure that we’re acting as disciples of our smartphone rather than disciples of our Savior. 

As a result, our knowledge of self is not just reprioritized, but it is impoverished. The self is given a faux supremacy while simultaneously being stripped of its true vocation; we become a shell of who we were created to be. We are not meant to assume the role of God over our lives, but this is precisely what we attempt when we maintain this contorted posture.

  1. Love of neighbor

When we live our lives with the glow of our phones constantly upon our face, we are being formed for Christian malpractice. No longer is Jesus’ second greatest commandment concerned with the love of neighbor; we mistakenly prioritize ourselves. As it relates to our civic engagement, our political philosophy takes an identical inward turn. With the individual acting as the gravitational center of his or her political concern, the love of neighbor becomes a secondary consideration when we participate in this American rite. When we view citizens as digital avatars instead of people, or when we engage with fiery rhetoric instead of gentle Christlikeness, we can be sure that we’re acting as disciples of our smartphone rather than disciples of our Savior. 

Habits and Christian discipleship

Since that fateful day when the garden-intruder convinced Eve that she and Adam should rule in the place of God, we have been grasping for God’s throne. Subtly, and subconsciously, our growing dependence on our smartphones is often a manifestation of this grasping for authority and autonomy. And it is forming us into a people with an impoverished knowledge of God, an over-torqued knowledge of self, and a misapprehension of the second greatest commandment. It is inhibiting us being conformed to the image of Christ. This doesn’t mean that the smartphone is an evil device that we should shun, though. But it does mean that it’s a powerful device that we should respect. What are we to do, then? 

The very act of peering down and in toward a phone is a powerful act of discipleship, developing scores of navel-gazing persons. To combat this, the church needs new habits. Though it may seem trite and simple, the most effective habit in this fight for Christian formation may just be divorcing ourselves from our phones more frequently. Cultivating a growing knowledge of God and self, and an increasing faithfulness to loving our neighbor, requires that we dethrone our devices from their seat of supremacy. It requires that we vacate that seat ourselves.

To know God, we must develop the habit of lifting our eyes from our smartphones and gazing upon his beauty. To know ourselves, we must develop the habit of lifting our eyes from our smartphones and hearing from the God who speaks to us through his Word. And to love our neighbor, we must develop the habit of lifting our eyes from our smartphones and assuming not the contorted posture of our digital age but the cruciform posture of Jesus. 

Do you have a reduced understanding of Jesus’ message?
By / Nov 5

Ever since Adam’s rebellion plunged mankind under the curse of sin, humans have sought to answer the question of how to live full and flourishing lives. Historically, individuals known for providing answers to this question have been given the distinction of philosopher. At the thought of this title, most will recall thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, or Kant, but one influential figure typically left out of such a company is Jesus Christ. This exclusion is probably unsurprising to most. After all, both Christians and non-Christians agree that he was primarily a religious figure, one concerned with making humans right with God. This project seems to be in an entirely different category than the philosophical pursuit of happiness in this world. 

In his new book, New Testament scholar Jonathan Pennington (Reading the Gospels Wisely, The Sermon on the Mount and Human Flourishing) charges that though this vertical, religious view of the person and work of Jesus is correct, it only tells part of the story. He argues that the Holy Scriptures are concerned with more than simply how to get to heaven when we die—they also present us with an ethic for the Good Life. By walking through the big ideas presented throughout Scripture, the Christian approach to emotions, relationships, and other themes, Pennington’s Jesus the Great Philosopher provides a rich and relevant guide into how the Christian gospel gives a whole-life philosophy that makes possible a flourishing existence in the here-and-now. 

Summary

Pennington begins with the observation that modern evangelical Christianity often presents a truncated picture of Jesus’s message that is bereft of his philosophical whole-life wisdom. He argues this has resulted in four key problems:

  1. Our faith has become disconnected from every other “non-religious” aspect of our lives.
  2. We turn to alternative sources for wisdom for the Good Life.
  3. We fail to seek from Scripture its answers of how to live rightly in the world.
  4. Our inability to confront these questions has limited our witness to our neighbors (10).

To address these problems, Pennington builds his case for seeing Jesus as a philosopher, beginning with a survey of whole-life teachings in the Old and New Testaments. He then explores three different issues and presents their Christian solutions. These issues include educating emotions, which involves liturgically shaping (not coldly disregarding) them in accordance with Scripture (104). Next is a discussion on restoring relationships with both individuals and broader society in which the local church is the central “worshiping polis” (168). To conclude, Pennington asserts that the goal of the Holy Scriptures is to return mankind to a life of happiness by “reshaping humanity into the image of Christ” (204). In this manner, he shows that the Christian faith is a philosophy that not only presents answers to the religious questions, but also a whole-life ethic that gives instruction for the Good Life.

A philosophy the world needs

Jesus the Great Philosopher is a welcome and well-reasoned rediscovery of the full scope of biblical teaching. It speaks to a multiplicity of issues that encompass human life, highlighting areas often thought to be separate from that to which the Word speaks. While the breadth of topics Pennington addresses is wide, the reader never gets the sense that he has overstepped his bounds. His insights are broad yet concise, informative yet nourishing.

The recognition of our union with God in Christ as our greatest good does not render our horizontal relationships with our neighbors and the world superfluous. Instead, it equips us with the proper tools to rightly relate to it all and advance his kingdom on earth as it is in heaven (Matt. 6:10).

It is also a timely and important work given the tumultuous state of affairs of the past year. For a time in which people are more isolated, angry, and confused than anything in recent memory, Pennington’s book demonstrates that Christianity addresses these issues by offering salvation through faith and the instruction that makes possible a full and abundant life (John 10:10). 

Thy kingdom come

Jesus the Great Philosopher also speaks directly to the belief often implicitly held by modern evangelicals that the redemption offered by Christ merely affects our individual souls rather than creation in its entirety. Its commentary challenges the common American anticipation of an eschatalogical departure from the physical realm to a heavenly existence. Indeed, Pennington’s work helps remind us that the redemption Christ brings isn’t an escape from this world. Rather, “It is the message that God reigns and he is now finally bringing his kingdom from heaven to earth—through Jesus himself” (165)!

This kingdom-focused mindset prompts us to defy a detachment from this world and adopt a God-and-neighbor focus that allows us to embrace and enjoy life to the full. As such, the human experience and its enjoyment are dependent on a right view and ordering of our emotions. While it is important to recognize the necessity for contentment in all things (Phil. 4:10-14) and to model the Lord’s impassibility, to imitate our Savior means to reflect him as he was: “fully emotional, but in a way that was always harmonious, not imbalanced, inappropriate, or disordered” (111). A biblically-informed shaping of our emotions helps us to rightly order the objects of our love such that the Good Life is made possible. 

This right ordering of our desires finally gives us the capacity to delight in this world as God intended. This is not to say that we enjoy such blessings apart from the One who gives them. On the contrary, we delight in them through him. But the recognition of our union with God in Christ as our greatest good does not render our horizontal relationships with our neighbors and the world superfluous. Instead, it equips us with the proper tools to rightly relate to it all and advance his kingdom on earth as it is in heaven (Matt. 6:10). Pennington writes that the Christian philosophy emphasizes “an honest assessment of the brokenness of life that is always oriented toward a sure hope for God’s restoration of true flourishing to the world” (218).

Overall, Jesus the Great Philosopher is a clear and enjoyable text that presents an important rediscovery of the broad and robust message of the Holy Scriptures. Pennington effectively addresses a wide range of issues with a skillful yet conversational tone, providing the reader with an active and engaging text. Timely and relevant, this book gives Christians the important reminder that our Lord and Savior is also our Philosopher who gives us not only redemption and salvation, but also the tools necessary for the Good Life.

How to approach doctrinal differences
By / Sep 16

Several years ago Christian Smith made waves with his book The Bible Made Impossible, which argued that the “pervasive interpretive pluralism” of Scripture within evangelicalism gave evidence to an inconsistent doctrine of Scripture. Other scholars such as Peter Enns and Kenton Sparks have more recently made similar arguments against the evangelical approach to Scripture. It is not uncommon to see more crude forms of this argument on social media also, where the evangelical belief in inerrancy is dismissed on the basis that evangelicals themselves so often disagree on the interpretation of Scripture. 

Enter Rhyne Putman’s new book When Doctrine Divides the People of God: An Evangelical Approach to Theological Diversity. Putman has formerly written on an evangelical understanding of the historical development of doctrine, and now he focuses on what could be called an evangelical doctrine of disagreement. Its starting point is similar to James K. A. Smith’s argument in The Fall of Interpretation that disagreement is a natural part of the interpretive process, which itself is a natural part of the human condition. Putman then charts the path forward from this truth. It is not written primarily as an apologetic to those outside of evangelicalism, but to evangelicals on constructive ways to approach doctrinal differences.

Why we disagree about doctrine

When Doctrine Divides the People of God is divided up into two major sections, with the first focused on the why question (“Why we disagree about doctrine”) and the second on the what question (“What we should do about doctrinal disagreement”). 

The first section describes the steps along the reasoning process where disagreements often arise. The first two chapters of this section focus specifically on hermeneutics and exegesis, areas that will be familiar for readers with training in biblical interpretation or hermeneutics. However, Putman’s eye toward doctrinal diversity within the hermeneutics discussion sets these chapters apart from typical textbook treatments. 

The third chapter on reasoning is where things get really interesting. Putman highlights the roles of deduction, induction, and abduction in the reasoning process. Particularly important here is the role of abduction, described as inferential reasoning through an incomplete set of data. Whereas deduction proves a hypothesis and induction tests a hypothesis, abduction forms a new hypothesis. He likens this process to the detective forming a hypothesis and then using clues such as fruitfulness, coherence, simplicity, and credibility to test the hypothesis. This separates abduction from mere guesswork and creative speculation. Although Putman notes the creative aspect of this process, he pushes the reader continually back to Scripture itself, rather than individual creativity, as the foundation of theological interpretation and formulation.

In the next three chapters Putman highlights several factors within the reasoning process that often lay in the background unchallenged such as intuition, feelings, and biases. As he notes, “Christian theologians have long recognized the role experience plays in our theological formation, but seldom mentioned in our hermeneutical and theological discussions is the crucial role emotions and intuitions play in the formation of Christian doctrine” (122). 

Many theological disagreements arise in just these areas, and so Putman’s walk through them in discussion with neuroscience and social psychology is a valuable tool for theological dialogue. Putman doesn’t let social or biological sciences have the last word in the discussion—he continually pushes back against naturalistic implications in the works he summarizes—but demonstrates how certain findings within these fields can provide opportunities for self-examination and reasoning in the process of theological development.  

What should we do about it? 

The second section of the book moves from the descriptive to the prescriptive, focused on the response to doctrinal disagreements. Although this section is smaller than the first by page count, it’s where Putman’s work packs the greatest punch. It is one thing to acknowledge doctrinal disagreements, but another to move through them with both keen self-awareness and Christian charity toward other positions. This section provides the way forward in both manners. 

The first chapter of this section, chapter seven, magnifies the self-reflection process by asking the question, when should we change our minds? In this chapter Putman moves through a series of diagnostic questions related to theological disagreement. These questions include:

  1. Are we working with the same body of evidence?
  2. If I disagree with a tenet from a particular tradition, am I interacting with its best and most sophisticated representations or with a straw man?
  3. Who exhibits a more thorough understanding of the relevant background material?
  4. Who exhibits greater theological acumen and exegetical skill?
  5. Do both parties evidence adequate time spent assessing the disputed issue?
  6. Do both disagreeing parties display the intellectual virtues such as curiosity, studiousness, persistence, and intellectual honesty?
  7. Does the person with whom I disagree exhibit the fruit of the Spirit?

Each of these questions is important for thinking through theological disputes because they each force acknowledgment of the full weight of other positions.

The eighth chapter builds on Albert Mohler’s idea of theological triage by formulating a tiered system for thinking through doctrinal disagreements. He gives three tests for thinking through these tiers based on hermeneutics, gospel, and praxis, with an eye toward mediation between theological maximalism (everything is equally important) and theological minimalism (unity over doctrine). 

The final chapter provides a test case of this system based on the disagreement and eventual reconciliation of George Whitefield and John Wesley on the issue of Calvinism vs. Arminianism. Putman uses their personal friendship and professional fellowship as the basis for thinking charitably through disagreements with fellow believers.

Putman’s book is helpful on several levels of theological reflection. It combines hermeneutics, philosophy, and theological method to provide insight into personal doctrinal reasoning and doctrinal dialogue with fellow believers. This type of reasoning is particularly necessary and valuable in the age of social media, where disagreements often turn vitriolic and the unity that Christ prayed for in John 17 is dismissed in favor of winning arguments. Putman doesn’t dismiss doctrinal disagreements but gives place for thinking through them in community with other believers. This book will be a valuable asset for any student of theology as a tool for both personal theological formulation and doctrinal discussions with others.

Believers never get a pass for disobedience
By / Jun 24

Last week there was a considerable amount of conversation generated after multiple screenshots of comments posted in a Facebook group began to circulate on the internet. The name of the group is not important, but both the content in question and the makeup of its members is. In the screenshots, very critical comments were captured about Aimee Byrd, the author of Recovering from Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. And judging only from the handful I looked at, the comments were obviously intended to mock and belittle. Moreover, they were mostly posted by men. 

That men would take to social media to openly mock and ridicule a woman is disturbing, but worse still is the reality that a large number of the members of the Facebook group in which it was posted are pastors and ministers. To be fair, many people are members of discussion groups on Facebook and elsewhere that they never even visit. And some of these groups have such active participation that even those who engage more frequently can’t possibly be held responsible for the content or comments featured in every post.

But with those caveats aside, the issue is bigger than a small number of men attacking a woman on the internet. Consider for a moment, why some would object to Byrd’s work. In her books and other writings, Byrd questions a lot of established norms. Though she remains substantially aligned with more conservative positions on the roles of men and women in the church, her work has challenged practices that (she believes) wrongly portray Scripture’s teaching in this area and stifle the ability of women to utilize the gifts God has blessed them with. And in making her case and criticizing the status quo—specifically among conservative Reformed evangelicals—she has also criticized things this group holds in esteem. 

Byrd, for instance, has been a vocal critic of the Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood (CBMW), which is perhaps the main exponent of complementarian theology. But more than criticizing the organization, she has leveled specific criticisms at the theology undergirding portions of CBMW’s approach to gender roles and has at certain points questioned the orthodoxy of theologians like John Piper and Wayne Grudem.

Markers of fear and immaturity

Anytime a person questions an established norm they can expect pushback. And it’s generally true that the more significant the object of one’s criticism is, the more intense the pushback will be. When it comes to Byrd’s work, I have found myself challenged by her criticisms but largely in step with those she criticizes. But honestly, I wasn’t surprised by the kinds of mean and misogynistic comments that were leveled toward her, not because those kinds of things are acceptable, but because they are easily explained. In this case, the personal attacks that were leveled at Byrd can be explained, at least in part, by the same reasons that similar attacks are often wielded against other women in conservative theological circles.

Belittling, demeaning, or in this case, making a public spectacle of one’s ideological opponent is more than some kind of cathartic exercise. The truth is that all of us are more fragile than we like to pretend. And when we feel attacked, the natural response is to seek to protect ourselves. Often, when we turn to insult rather than engage someone who questions our beliefs, it’s about reassuring ourselves that we have taken up the right cause. Mocking an opponent instead of engaging their ideas is a way of saying to ourselves and those we agree with, “Look at them. They couldn’t possibly be right. Right?” 

That kind of behavior is a marker of fear and immaturity. It’s a way to stay safe in the retreat position. Besides, if you never actually engage someone you disagree with, you’ll never lose. Not only that, but sometimes we’re threatened by more than a person’s ideas. Sometimes it’s their popularity we find intimidating. We’re concerned too many people are coming under their influence, so we take every opportunity to tear them down in hopes that others would be too ashamed to be associated with such a controversial person or group.

No pass for disobedience

But whether one is surprised or not by this behavior, the point is that none of this conduct is becoming of a Christian. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught those gathered before him to treat others as they desire to be treated (Matt. 7:12). We know those words as the golden rule. And for most of us, they have grown familiar, as though it were Christianity 101. But what is so interesting to me is that many of us tend to act as though the longer we’ve been in the faith, the less important these “elementary” teachings are. In reality, this could not be further from the truth. A believer never gets a pass for disobedience, no matter how many theology books one has read or acts of service one has rendered.

Byrd deserves an apology. And she’s not the only one. No matter how embattled a person or group may feel, if they claim to be followers of Jesus, there is never just cause to treat another person with anything less than the dignity and respect every image-bearer deserves. If anything, this standard is raised even higher when it comes to our brothers and sisters in Christ  (1 John 3:14). And certainly this kind of charity and respectful engagement should be modeled by those in Christian leadership, especially if one believes (as I do) that God reserves specific pastoral and leadership functions for men. Believing this means men are called not only to protect women, but to show honor to them as well. And in this case men failed in spectacular fashion.

Aimee Byrd is not my enemy. She is my sister in Christ, and the cruel treatment she’s been subjected to is wicked and inexcusable. Those with the courage to put forward ideas and offer constructive, if critical, feedback will help make the church stronger. Man or woman, those who would speak and act in good faith, even when it dissents from the status quo, deserve to have their voices heard and their words taken seriously. They don’t deserve to become a punchline, and certainly do not deserved to be mocked or ridiculed on the basis of their sex or appearence.

Seeing this play out on the internet ought to give each of us pause. The sinful desire to mock or shame our opponents is not limited to men or to those with certain theological beliefs. It runs through all of us. We are broken, sinful, and fragile people. We want not only to protect ourselves, but for people to think well of us. But if we are a part of the family of God, we are called to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matt. 5:44) and turn the other cheek when we are wronged or mistreated (Matt. 5:39). And if we can do those things, surely we can love and bear with one another even in the midst of disagreement.