California

Esther and I are here on vacation in Scotts Valley, California, near Santa Cruz. We’re staying at the same Conference Center that we met at, almost exactly 7 years ago. Its been fun to explore — I really like this part of Northern California. We’re surrounded by beautiful, soaring redwood trees, but only 10 minutes from the beach. What a deal! Its been fun to re-connect with old friends, explore with Esther and Isaiah, and work on some scholarly projects.

I love living in California. I know we have a lot of economic problems, and there is a lot of cooky stuff out here. But the natural beauty of it has won me over, and I’m fascinated by the people, the gospel need, and the ever evolving culture. California feels like home, and I hope Esther and I can stay here for a long time, if not for the rest of our lives.

One my favorite things to do lately is take a day off to travel somewhere else in the Greater Los Angelos area. I’ve been to Simi Valley, Santa Clarita, and Rancho Santa Margarita. I like driving around and seeing the homes, the lay out of the town, the coffee shops. California is such an interesting place because it has relatively little history (excluding native American history) and yet has grown so rapidly, and because of the huge waves of immigration and the resultant diversity, and because its a melting pot for so much innovation, so much new culture, so many unique people. Its an interesting experiment of diversity and innovation. Its unlike any other place I know.

The best way I can describe the beauty of the mountains is to call it a desert version of Scotland — but the orange and brown instead of green don’t feel lifeless to me, they just have their own kind of beauty. At sunset, when I’m coming back from a hike on one of the trails near my house, the sky turns a kind of purple, and the temperature falls rapidly. That’s my favorite time of day.

Above all, California strikes me as a place where many misfits go. People who don’t find a place anywhere else often seem to find there way here. Its a place for quirks, oddballs, and people who don’t have the family or personal trajectory to keep them wherever they moved from. Especially Santa Cruz – there lots of interesting people here!

The more I drive around and explore out here, the more I feel like this is where I belong. I have a deep burden to see renewal in this part of the world. Lots of people from our area are moving to Texas or Colorado or somewhere cheaper. I totally understand that. But I hope we can stay in California for the long haul.

Why I find the Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator Helpful

I used to be a bit skeptical about the value of personality tests like the Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI). Then one of my professors in seminary, Dr. Phil Douglass, gave my wife and me a short article on “how INFJs and ENFPs relate to one another.” (I’m an INFJ, and my wife is an ENFP.) I read the article, and was shocked at how accurately it described our relationship: it felt like someone had been studying Esther and me for a while and written the article specifically about us. I began to study more, and the more I read, the more what I read hit home and helped me understand myself. Obviously personality is not our sum total, and the value of labels like “INFJ” is approximate and general. But I have found Meyers-Briggs so helpful that its almost impossible for me now to imagine processing life and relationships without reference to it. Here is a brief rundown of how I articulate the four dichotomies that make up the sixteen basic types of MBTI:

I (introversion) vs. E (extraversion). This dichotomy has to do with what energizes us. Introverts are energized by being alone; extraverts, by being with people. Introverts’ natural habitat is the internal world of their thoughts and ideas, extraverts natural habitat is the external world of people and things around them. Note that introversion is not the same as disliking people or being reclusive.

S (sensing) vs. N (intuition). This is, in my opinion, the least intuitive and initially clear of the four dichotomies, but perhaps the most important. It has to do with how we take in information. Sensing types tend to observe details; intuitive types tend to observe the relationships between details. S’s tend to like facts and data; N’s tend to like theories and the “big picture.” If I have learned one thing from MBTI, it is that communication between N’s and S’s can be very challenging.

T (thinking vs. F (feeling). This one concerns how we make decisions. Thinkers tend to make decisions in a more detached, logical way, based upon what is determined as best; feelers tend to empathize with a situation and make a decision based on harmony and feeling. This distinction has nothing whatsoever to do with intelligence.

P (perceiving) vs. J (judging). This one refers to our habits and daily modes of operating. J’s tend to be more structured, while P’s are more fluid. J’s are generally more on schedule, P’s are generally more adaptable to changing circumstances. Some people claim that this dichotomy is the sort cumulative net of the previous three: thus, it measures whether we extravert (everyone extraverts some of time) when we are making decisions (T/F) or when we are taking in information (N/S). But I’m not sure I fully understand that.

Here are the main ways MBTI has helped me:

1) It helps us not moralize personality strengths and weaknesses

No personality trait has any moral superiority to any other; God simply makes people differently. And yet it seems to me that we all tend to think that the way we operate is the “normal” one. For example, as a J, structure and discipline in my use of time come a bit more naturally to me. I generally stick to my Google calendar and enjoy crossing things off my to do list. For this reason, I could be tempted to look down on those who struggle with disorganization or procrastination, assuming they are lazy or negligent. On the other hand, many P’s I know find it easy to “go with the flow.” They are laid back, adaptable, open. These people may be tempted to view J’s as uptight or overly rigid or even controlling.

But while the disputes that can occur between a J and a P can touch upon moral issues, they are not necessarily moral issues. The line between “personality” and “wisdom” or “personality” and “right/wrong” is not always crystal clear. When is a P being last minute or lazy, and when are they simply operating as God designed? When is a J being too uptight, and when are they simply following their God-given internal clock? The same issues apply with the other letters: when is a T being unloving, and when are they simply being more direct in their communication? When is an I being reclusive or rude, and when are they simply functioning within their God-given independence?

I don’t always know the answers to these questions. But what personality studies like MBTI do is put the question on the table. They remind us that not all of our differences are moral differences, and thus help us not make unnecessary judgments. They help us leave room for God-given differences, and thus learn from others where we might be tempted merely to criticize, and be cautious to assume our way is always the right way.

2) It helps us understand and relate to people who are different from us.

It can be a disconcerting and even painful experience to just not “click” with someone. I find that when I understand more fully why a person operates differently than I do, it frees me to love and serve them without constantly analyzing what is going on. For example, as an IJ, I am naturally a bit more sensitive to interrupting. Its instinctive for me to approach conversations in a more deliberate, structured kind of way, waiting for someone to finish speaking and thinking in advance what I am going to say. Other personalities, such as EPs, tend to be more fluid and back-and-forth in their conversation style. I’m a mental processor (I think and then speak); EPs are usually verbal processors (they think by speaking).

I’ve discovered a brilliant tactic for relating to EPs in a way that leads to minimal frustration and miscommunication: I adopt their communication style. I step outside of myself and into their world by interrupting them as much they interrupt me, by chasing the conversation down whatever rabbit trails come up, by letting the conversation go wherever it goes. Its fun to be pulled out of the tediously narrow orbit of how I operate and enter into another (equally valid) planet in God’s solar system. And it makes for better and more balanced conversations. For example, if I did not understand MBTI, I would still be spending only 5% of my conversations with EPs talking and 95% listening. I used to rarely interrupt people, because I hate being interrupted (because I think and speak in complete, closed, connected thoughts). Now I know that interrupting rarely annoys EPs, because they think and communicate in open, expansive, fluid thoughts. In fact, it sometimes helps them — it assures them we are still engaged, and helps them process further what they are saying.

Similarly, when communicating with S’s, I try to bombard them with details. I give them way more than I would ever want to hear. If an S asks for a summary of my day, where I would normally compress it down into a two sentence propositional overview, I instead tell a narrative about something that happened (usually with another person) and walk through the specifics of the conversation. Whereas I might be bored by that detailed of an answer, S’s tend to enjoy it and take it all in. Knowing MBTI information draws me out of myself and helps me enter into others’ world. Its freeing.

3) It helps us understand and deal with our limitations and weaknesses.

There are many things in life that are extremely challenging for me that other people tend to find very easy and natural. (Hence the picture of the square peg above.) My intuition and sensitivity (NF) make me acutely aware of the emotional non-verbals others put off. When I’m sitting in a circle, I can read how people how are feeling. But my (strong) introversion and structured habits (IJ) make it difficult for me to fit into groups easily. I am fiercely independent. I think many people have often perceived me as stubborn. I’m sure I can be stubborn, but more often than not I think its an incapacity to blend in rather than a volitional choice to not blend in. So I live in the tension – the at times the seeming contradiction – of this acute sensitivity and fierce independence. I take in emotional information constantly, but sometimes so strongly that I feel overwhelmed by it. I have compassion towards people, but come across as aloof. I long for meaningful connections with others, but find there are precious few people with whom it happens. I feel awkward and anxious in situations others find easy, and comfortable in situations others find daunting. My least favorite scenario: unstructured group conversations with people I don’t know well, about topics I don’t care about. Ugh. Life has too many of these moments. On the other hand, I am very comfortable with public speaking, and get energized by long periods of study. Writing also comes naturally for me.

Until about age 25, I lived under the laborious assumption that this tension occurred because something was wrong with me. It was not until seminary that I began to realize that the way God has wired me is not an accident, but a strategy. My personality is well suited for my vocation: preaching, teaching, writing, discipling. I know why I have the weaknesses I do, so I’m less ashamed of them, and better able to compensate for them.

4) It helps us understand group dynamics.

In ministry, I’m often put in situations where I have to think about how different people will relate to one another. A classic example is leading a small group. I’m always amazed at how widely the group dynamic varies from week to another depending on who is there. Even missing or adding one person in a group of 20 changes the whole “feel” of the room. Knowing MBTI helps me understand why groups operate the way they do. For example, I think leading a small group composed entirely of extraverts is overwhelming, but leading one without any extraverts is almost impossible. They require two very different kinds of leadership! One is like fishing for fish that aren’t hungry, the other like harnessing a group of stampeding horses. Even one extravert helps a ton, because they often are quicker to answer, which helps the introverts talk more. When I started in ministry, I thought primarily in terms of the “content” of a lesson/study/group. Serving as a youth pastor has helped me learn to ask these kinds of “context” questions. Context matters because it affects how much of the content actually gets through to people. It doesn’t matter how great your message is if people don’t hear you. MBTI is a “context” issue when leading a small group.

Two questions about MBTI that fascinate me:

1) To what extent do ethnicity, nationality, culture, language, and family of origin yield similar differences?

2) To what extent can corporate entities like families, churches, businesses, communities, cities, or even nations, be characterized by personality traits? If the backbone presupposition of personality theory is that varied behavior is organized into patterns, couldn’t this apply to groups of people just as naturally as individual people? For example: I think Washington D.C. is an ENTJ city, and my current church is an ESFJ church. I think Great Britain is more introverted as a culture, and America more extraverted. I know these generalizations can be pushed to the point of absurdity – but I find they really do help you understand a culture.

Further Thoughts on Baptism

Drew Trammell has written a fantastic surrejoinder to my last post. It has both the logical/theological rigor that makes for a clarifying discussion, as well as the irenic tone that makes for an edifying one. Thanks Drew. Our discussion is breaking into some new territory that I’ve not seen covered in the literature on this subject, and I don’t think its run its course yet, so I’m going to give one more response (I may not have time for much after this one).

I think its helpful the way Drew starts off by giving an overview of the big picture, so let me start off with my own “big picture.” I agree with Drew that there is much overlap between Israel and the church, circumcision and baptism, the Abrahamic covenant and new covenant. In each case, the former prefigures the latter; the latter fulfills the former. I am not advocating that circumcision was merely a national and cultural boundary marker, for example, or that Israel was defined exclusively in terms of physical descent from Abraham (if it had been, even Ishmael and his sons would be part of the nation!). I do dispute, however, that there is an identity of meaning between Israel and the church, circumcision and baptism, the Abrahamic covenant and new covenant. I believe the relationship in these cases, and in the movement from the Old Testament to the New Testament more generally, is best characterized as a fulfillment that embraces both discontinuity and continuity. A type –> anti-type relationship is different from a relationship of strict continuity.

There are a couple of areas in which Drew rightly argues for overlap, but (I think) presses the relationship too far into identity. (Here, of course, I’m getting into the classic credobaptist argument from Jewett and others that reformed paedobaptism over-stresses continuity such that it must spiritualize the Old Testament and Judaize the New.) Let me just draw out a few examples.

1) First, Drew seems to equate observing enough of the Mosaic Law not to get kicked out of the nation, on the one hand, with professing personal faith in God, on the other. As he outlined in his first post, there were several laws in the Mosaic code which threatened stoning or expulsion from the land if one disobeyed them. Drew argues that obeying these commands (thus not getting killed or kicked out of the land) constituted a “visible, action based [statement] of faith.” With the entire nation’s circumcision in Joshua 5, for example, Drew suggests that this was such a costly action to take that a profession of faith is implicit in it.

There are several questions that I think could be explored here. I wonder, for example, how Drew would understand the first half-millennium of the practice of circumcision, prior to the giving of the Mosaic law. Was maintaining circumcision (Genesis 17:14) sufficient to constitute a profession of faith during that period? I also wonder how Drew would understand this high view of membership in Israel played out practically: suppose a young Israelite couple became pregnant, but there was uncertainty as to whether or not they had profaned the Sabbath. Would their child’s circumcision be put on hold while the matter was examined? At what age were Israelites expected to begin to signify an “action based statement of faith,” thus establishing their children and slaves’ right to circumcision? Were Israelites simply assumed to be regenerate so long as they were not getting kicked out of the nation through witchcraft, idolatry, or profaning of God’s name, etc.? There are all kinds of interesting questions that this view raises. In addition, I’m tempted to pursue whether this interpretation actually establishes continuity with contemporary paedobaptist practice. Its not clear to me that it does, which is perhaps one reason why Calvin and the majority of the reformed tradition do not go this route.

But lets skip over these points so that we can focus on what I take to be the core issue here: did it require a personal and covenantal relationship with God for an Israelite to avoid profaning the Sabbath, practicing witchcraft, seducing the nation into idolatry, disrespecting their parents, and so forth? Certainly one would expect that a regenerate Israelite would generally obey these commandments, but can it be assumed, in the opposite direction, that one who obeyed these commandments was regenerate? I think this would be a dubious assumption. These laws had cultural, national, economic, and social dimensions that a profession of faith does not. Further, many of these laws are prohibitions of specific actions, not a positive, all-encompassing statement of one’s relationship to God. Why should we assume that the only reason for, say, avoiding witchcraft, or honoring the Sabbath, was a regenerate heart before God? Take an Israelite at Gilgal. Does it really follow from the costliness of submitting to circumcision in this situation that all who did so were thereby expressing personal faith in God? Given the fact that it was commanded by their military leader, and everyone else in the entire nation was having it done, I imagine that for some Israelites it would have taken far greater faith to stand alone against Joshua the rest of the nation and reject the sign. To assume that a profession of faith is implicit in this action seems to me highly problematic.

I grant that what Israel was supposed to do and what Israel actually did are two different things, but the fact remains that for basically her entire history, Israel had a massive amount of people who failed to profess any kind of covenant faith in God and yet remained a part of the people. (Think of all those wicked kings throughout Samuel-Kings, for example, who remained kings over God’s people despite not rejecting God.) If the people of Israel had been supposed to deny circumcision to all whose parents did not know the God of Israel in a covenantal, saving way, you’d think there would be more evidence of this actually being done. In addition, lets remember that many of these laws which threatened excommunication listed the most severe penalty possible, not the penalty that was required for every potential infraction. We must be careful not to over-spiritualize the Mosaic code by reading into it things it doesn’t actually say, and thus ratcheting up how hard it was to remain an Israelite. While the law threatened excommunication for certain extreme forms of disobedience, it nowhere suggests that those excommunicated were the only ones failing to evidence faith in God. Nor is there any suggestion in the Old Testament that all those worthy of remaining Israelites and not being excommunicated were thereby professing personal faith in God. In other words, the Old Testament itself never draws a connection between not getting excommunicated and giving evidence of personal faith in God.

2) Second, and very much related, Drew seems to equate membership in Israel with membership in the church. He does so on the grounds that both entities can be joined (through conversion) and exited (through excommunication). But the fact of excommunication in both Israel and the church does not equate these two bodies of people, because the conditions of membership and excommunication were different in each group. Lets map these two ecclesiologies out for the sake of clarity:

Ecclesiology 1: “you and your seed after you” (including special provisions for excommunication or addition to the resultant nation)

Ecclesiology 2: “those who believe and the children of one or more believing parent”

Now Drew is right to point out that these two ecclesiologies have a lot of overlap. In both, individuals and groups can be excommunicated. In both, individuals and groups can join. In both, God’s desire is always a people who are circumcised of heart. But these two ecclesiologies are not identical, because ecclesiology 1 is still an inter-generational nation comprised of the offspring/seed/descendants of the patriarchs. Yes, the Law stipulated how people could join or be kicked out of the nation, but that is not the same as saying that the Law transformed ecclesiology 1 into ecclesiology 2. God’s people was still fundamentally the seed of Abraham, not a collection of families. There is no indication that each family had to profess faith before their children could receive the sign, for example, as is the case with contemporary paedobaptist churches. In fact, when excommunication does happen in Israel, it tends not to happen to families as much as it does to individuals or larger groups. The exile as an answer to Jeremiah 9:24 is a case in point. It was the entire nation that was judged, just as circumcision was a blessing given to the entire nation.

Drew points out from Exodus 12:48 that when a man converted into the nation of Israel, his children and servants also came. He offers this as an example of evidence for a “those who believe and their children” ecclesiology. To me, the inclusion of entire families within the nation is only expected, given that the entity being joined is an inter-generational body of people. By the same token, I would assume that the grand-children (as well as servants) of a convert would also be enfolded into the nation and the male grand-children would receive circumcision. Two questions here for Drew: (1) I wonder if Drew would think that in cultures today which practice some form of slavery, or which have an individual unrelated by blood living in their home as a part of the family, that these individuals should be baptized if the head of the household converts? (2) If the family envisioned in Exodus 12:48 had grand-children, does Drew think they would also be circumcised? Isn’t this implied, not only by the inter-generational nature of the Abrahamic covenant, but also the inter-generational nature of the other texts to which Drew appeals (e.g., Psalm 103:17-18 is about grand-children, plain and simple).

The bottom line is that even when excommunication is factored in, Israel was still a nation as well as a spiritual community, and circumcision was still a national marker as well as a spiritual one. In order to meet the required burden of proof, it would need to be established that the lines of covenant were drawn in the Old Testament around families and the head of their household, not Abraham. To equate these two ecclesiologies is to read the latter back into the former.

3) Though we have not explored this issue as much, I would imagine that Drew would also want to equate the meaning of circumcision and baptism, and perhaps also, the Abrahamic covenant and the new covenant. Once again, I would argue for overlap, not identity, between these two. The Abrahamic covenant (which circumcision symbolized) contained trans-dispensational elements which are still contained in the new covenant, such as a covenantal relationship with God. But it also contained elements unique to its own historical dispensation, such as the conquest of Canaan. Circumcision symbolized these elements of the Abrahamic covenant as much as any other. To equate the symbolic meaning of baptism and circumcision, therefore, requires one to say things like, “well, the promise of conquest in Canaan is ultimately fulfilled in believers’ conquest of the entire earth, as in Matthew 5:5.” This kind of hermeneutic, it seems to me, over-spiritualizes the Old Testament and flattens the development of redemptive history.

A Friendly Rejoinder to Drew Trammell on Baptism

Drew Trammel has written a thoughtful and courteous response to my “Why I Changed My Mind on Baptism” piece from last month. Drew draws attention also to Mark Horne’s video response. Since these two and a number of other responses have made a very similar counter-argument, I thought it might be helpful to offer a brief rejoinder. Hopefully these discussions can sharpen and encourage us all, whether we end up changing our minds or not!

Drew helpfully summarizes my argument in a 4-point syllogism. His disagreement is with the second premise, which concerns the inter-generational nature of the Abrahamic covenant in Genesis 17. (I think Drew states this premise too strongly, in a way that even I would not affirm, but lets not quibble over that just now.) Drew argues that, contrary to my post, both circumcision and baptism required parents who professed faith, and thus the paedobaptist is not inconsistent. He writes, “Israelite children of faithless or apostate parents would NOT receive circumcision” (emphasis his). He discusses, with a number of helpful proof-texts, the reality of excommunication from the nation of Israel, and the possibility of Gentile proselytes joining into the covenant people. I agree with a lot of what Drew says here! But I think its an error to suggest that eligibility for circumcision was conditional on the faithfulness of one’s parents. A couple of points will, I believe, bear this out.

1) First of all, it may be worth noting that the idea that an Israelite’s parents had to believe in order for that Israelite to be eligible for circumcision is not the historic reformed view. Calvin, for example, in his commentary on Genesis 17, was emphatic that while the outward rite signified in the inward reality, it was not conditional on how the inward reality had been received: the sign of circumcision was for all the offspring of Abraham, irrespective of inward appropriation. The reason Calvin maintained this view is because he was a good exegete of Genesis 17:9-15, which specifies the intended recipients of circumcision to be the seed of Abraham, not the seed of Abraham whose parents also believe. It was an intergenerational and national covenant, and its initiatory sign was for all males throughout the nation and throughout its generations.

2) The attempt to make the Abrahamic covenant conditional upon each individual family professing faith does not line up with what we read throughout the Old Testament. Are we to envision, for example, all the moms and/or dads in Israel being lined up at Gilgal in Joshua 5:2-8 to be examined by Joshua concerning the credibility of their profession of faith, in order to determine whether their children were eligible for circumcision? No, the entire nation was circumcised, according to Joshua 5:8, because — as specified by Genesis 17 — circumcision was for the entire nation, not just for believers and their children within the nation. In fact, so much did the sacrament continue apart from inward appropriation of its meaning that at her worst moments, God could lament that the entire nation had not appropriated the sacrament inwardly (Jeremiah 9:26)! If Drew were right, and Israel operated as paedobaptist churches operate, then I suppose in Jeremiah’s day just about the entire nation would have to be excommunicated!

3) There is no hint in the Old Testament that Israelites were excommunicated from the covenant, either by death or expulsion, simply because they had failed to profess faith in God. Rather, according to the texts Drew cites, excommunication occurred as a response to high-handed acts of rebellion like witchcraft and idolatry (Deuteronomy 17:5 speaks of the kind of idolatry in view here as an “abomination”). Drew seems to acknowledge this when he speaks of excommunication as occurring in cases of “outright rebellion or apostasy” and among “those who overtly and unrepentantly rejected God.” This is a far cry from contemporary paedobaptist practice! In other words, the mere fact of excommunication in the Old Testament does not establish anything until we ask some careful questions about the conditions of excommunication, and how they compare to the practice of contemporary paedobaptist churches. “Stone the sorcerer among you” is not equal to “examine the credibility of their profession.” In other words, the threat of excommunication for specific offenses, introduced in the Law, did not redefine the Abrahamic covenant to make it tantamount to “those who believe and their children.” Rather, God’s people remained a fundamentally national and inter-generational body, as dictated by Genesis 17:9-15; and this was the entity from which one was excommunicated, or into which one was grafted.

4) But if we admit that the nation of Israel did not require a profession of faith from parents, and paedobaptist churches do, then … well, that is the whole point. In order to meet the required burden of proof, the paedobaptist must demonstrate biblical grounds for an ecclesiology of “those who believe and their children.” This is a very specific ecclesiology, and the vague principle that God works inter-generationally does not satisfy the required burden of proof to establish it. So when B.B. Warfield claims, “God established his church in the days of Abraham and put children into it…. He has nowhere put them out” — it is a fair question to ask, “which children?” Paedobaptists argue from continuity, but smuggle in a discontinuity in the process. They want to accept principle B on the basis that it is the continuation of principle A, and principle A has nowhere been abrogated. But what if principle A and principle B are fundamentally different principles? What if “you and your seed after you for the generations to come” and “those who believe and their children” are two fundamentally different ways of getting “children” into the church?

5) Lets close by projecting our original John Sr./John Jr./John III scenario back a few thousand years to illuminate this present issue:

Suppose there is a devout, pious Hebrew grandfather living just after King Solomon’s rule. His son (lets call him “Hebrew father”) has not rejected God overtly or committed any of the sins that require stoning or getting expelled from the land. He lives among God’s people and is considered a Hebrew. But he has never professed personal knowledge of God, embraced the covenant from the heart. Now are the sons of this Hebrew father proper recipients of circumcision? If the paedobaptist says yes, then he/she has to tell us why we should not similarly baptize the grand-children of believers, since the primary paedobaptist argument is from continuity with circumcision. If the paedobaptist says no, then he/she has to tell us where in the Old Testament there is textual warrant for requiring a parental profession of faith prior to circumcision, since Genesis 17:9-15 defines the proper recipients as the inter-generational offspring of Abraham, and the practice of God’s people throughout the Old Testament bears this principle out.

Elijah and the Whisper of God

In my ministry to high school and college students, guys often confess to me when they are struggling with sexual sin. I’m sure I’ve said a lot that hasn’t helped at all. But one thing I often say that I think has been helpful to a few guys is that temptation is less about how strong your sex drive is, and more about the state of your heart. I encourage guys to look underneath to the emotions that are making the temptation particularly strong at that moment, and then trying to engage those emotions with the gospel, and in other healthy ways. One of the most common issues is plain old loneliness. Guys feel disconnected and isolated and unknown, and sexual sin offers a false sense of intimacy. We were made for community, for knowing and being known, and when we hide our true selves and never open up to others, I think it makes us more susceptible to temptation. I bet the porn industry would plummet downwards if most guys between the ages of 14 and 26 had one true friend, as the book of Proverbs defines a friend. Another issue is the lack of adventure in many younger guys’ lives. Many guys have nothing grand to aim for in their lives. They are drifting, cynical, bored – lacking in idealism and initiative, lacking in a sense of purpose and direction, lacking in a sense of transcendence and glory. Men are meant for adventure – to fight battles, to go on journeys, to explore, create, compete, dream, and dare. Guys living in their parents basement playing video games all the time and drifting aimlessly through life are, I think, extremely susceptible to temptation. The temptation is able to promise something that they are not really getting anywhere else – excitement, adventure, adrenaline. It reminds me of King David staying back from battle in II Samuel 11:1, where I think the real battle with Bathsheba was already lost.

Yesterday it occurred to me that its probably wise to approach other spiritual struggles in this way, looking at the larger context and deeper causes. I was taking some time off to pray and reflect and journal, and I thought about how lately I’ve been struggling a bit with ministry fatigue. So I took some time to ask: what are the emotions underneath my fatigue? Like temptation, its probably not merely a biological issue. Sure, I’ve had lots of late nights up with my 6-week-old son! And I have a busy schedule of ministry + studies. But yesterday, as I reflected, I came to conclude that the biggest cause of fatigue in my life is probably not busyness, but fear. At times I struggle with fears in ministry – fear of failure, fear of the exposure of my weaknesses, fear of letting people down, fear of telling people no, and – perhaps most of all – fear that what I’m doing isn’t having any real impact. And when I’m not walking in the Spirit, these fears can drive me to over-work and over-worry, which then leads to fatigue and exhaustion. Its funny, because I often don’t even realize the fears are there until the Spirit draws attention to them. But they can be powerful influences on me, even when I’m not conscious of them.

This is why the story of Elijah in I Kings 19 means so much to me. Elijah has one the greatest triumphs in the Bible in I Kings 18. He single-handedly cleanses the nation from idolatry. But then right afterwards, Elijah receives a threat from Jezebel and takes off running, all the way down to Beersheeba in the far south. It makes me think of a man getting attacked by a dozen or so gang members on the subway, and he successfully disarms all of them and leaves them tied up for the police – but then when he gets home, his teenage daughter’s friend says something mean, and he bursts into tears. You think, if he can handle the entire gang, why does one little comment set him off? And in the same way, if Elijah could stand up to the 450 false prophets and the entire nation they seduced, why does he flee from Jezebel? How can he be so stalwart in chapter 18 and then so flighty in chapter 19?

Verse 3 tells us what’s really going on inside Elijah: “he was afraid.” But afraid of what? It can’t be fear of Jezebel’s threat to kill him, because two verses later he prays, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life.” Elijah is not afraid to die; he wants to die. I used to think that Elijah was simply burnt out, and burn out can warp our perspective. But then my brother Eric sent me an article he wrote about this passage which drew attention to the reason for Elijah’s death wish: “for I am no better than my fathers.” He pointed out that throughout I and II Kings, prophets and their disciples are often depicted in father/son language (I Kings 13:11-12, II Kings 2:12, 6:21). So what Elijah is really saying is, “I am no better than any of the prophets and spiritual leaders who came before me.” He had hoped to turn the nation away from idolatry, but as so often happens after a great victory, reality soon sets back in and Elijah realizes that the royal house is still corrupt. Ahab has not gotten rid of Jezebel. He is thinking, “Nothing has changed around here! I won the battle but lost the war. I may have pulled up a few weeds, but they can just grow back tomorrow. Ahab can just raise up new false prophets. The nation is still corrupt. I haven’t gotten any farther than any of those who went before me.” Elijah is afraid he has failed. He is experiencing the kind of fear, not that he might die, but the kind of fear that makes a man want to die. It is the fear of despair, the fear of a crushed spirit, the fear of a defeated dream.

What happens next in the story is not easy to interpret, and I’m skipping over a lot of detail, but basically God takes care of Elijah’s physical needs, and then manifests Himself to Elijah at the mouth of a cave on Mount Horeb. God sends a wind, earthquake, and fire, but the text says God is not in them, and then God sends a gentle whisper. The implication seems to be that God is communicating to Elijah specifically in this whisper. I wonder if the message God is sending Elijah is something like this: “Elijah, I’m not just in fire from heaven, and wind and earthquake. I’m also in a gentle whisper that is so faint you have to strain your ears for it. I don’t just work through nation-wide revival. I also work by preserving a remnant. I’m not just in I Kings 18 dynamic, thundering power. I’m also in I Kings 19 hold-on-by-your-knuckles survival. You’re measuring your ministry by your narrow expectations of what success looks like. You need to re-center yourself on me, and what I’m doing, and how I’m doing it. I alone am your criterion for success.” Sadly, Elijah doesn’t seem to get the message. But then, he didn’t know all that we know. He didn’t know that he didn’t need to be greater than his fathers, because there is only one true Savior of God’s people. He didn’t know that this Savior was still to come, and that the greatest victory and salvation would come through his failure and defeat.

I think there is a sense in which Jesus, praying in the garden of Gethsemane, experienced the ultimate “fear” of I Kings 19:3. And then in crucifixion, extreme defeatedness and failure. Obviously Jesus did not ultimately fail, but while hanging on the cross, he certainly entered the experience of failure – shame, helplessness, exposure, abandonment, ridicule, pain, choking death. And this is what I need to say to my ministry fatigue: because Jesus experienced failure for me, I don’t need to be afraid of failure. I don’t need to live in fear of everything crashing down, and realizing I’ve not had any impact on anyone. I respect Jesus. I admire Him. If even He went through failure, it takes away the shame of it. If He walked ahead of us into the path of failure and shame, it makes it bearable to follow down that same path, come what may. And the resurrection means that as long as we are following Jesus, that path cannot ultimately end in failure. Easter means that in Christ, failure is never the last word: if God can turn the greatest evil in the history of reality into the greatest good, surely he can turn any other lesser evil into good also. If the essence of our creed is victory through apparent defeat, surely this is a pattern we can expect to see repeated on smaller scales in our lives.

Lord, give us ears to hear you in that faint whisper. Let us see you, not just in the fire that falls from heaven, but in that quiet moment before God, when we are forced to measure life by You alone. Jesus, because you conquered failure for us, all we need to do is be faithful to you. Everything connected to You will one day be resurrected. Give us faith to believe in these things, whether they seem to us as obvious as lightning from heaven, or as faint as a gentle whisper.

Pastors are Part of the Body of Christ

I’m reading through with a friend Paul Tripp’s Dangerous Calling: Confronting the Unique Challenges of Pastoral Ministry (Crossway 2012). I would describe it as a sober and yet grace-filled critique of pastoral culture in our setting. Its helping me see and feel afresh the importance of keeping my heart soft before the Lord in the midst of the ups and downs and busyness of ministry. Here is an especially powerful quote. I think Tripp is right on in his concern here:

“Does it seem right and healthy that in many churches the functional reality is that no one gets less of the ministry of the body of Christ than the pastor does? Does it seem best that most pastors are allowed to live outside of or up above the body of Christ? If every pastor is, in fact, a man in the middle of his own sanctification, shouldn’t he be receiving the normal range of the essential ministry of the body of Christ that God has ordained for every member of the church to receive? Is there any indication in the New Testament that the pastor is the exception to the normal rules that God has designed for the health and growth of his people?” (p. 69).

Repentance versus Defensiveness

It seems to me that we tend to respond to accurate criticism in one of two ways: repentance or defensiveness. These two reactions are as different as heaven and hell. A defensive heart says, “but look at what I did right!” (diversion). A repentant heart says, “here specifically is what I did wrong” (honesty). A defensive heart says, “but look at what was done to me!” (distraction). A repentant heart says, “here is how I contributed to the conflict” (ownership). A defensive heart says, “it wasn’t that bad” (downplaying). A repentant heart says, “it was a big deal” (admission).

Our default mode – in and out of the church – seems to be defensiveness. I know mine is. Nothing is more natural when we feel threatened by a criticism than to divert, distract, and downplay. Its as instinctive as flinching when a punch is coming. In my experience, a heart of repentance is something I have to work at. I have to say things like, “wait a minute. Think this through. Why does this criticism hurt you the way it does? Remember your identity is in Christ. Remember you’re identity is not at stake. Relax! Is there something you can learn here?” Its a counter-intuitive feeling, like learning to use a muscle we didn’t know we had for the first time. Or better: learning to relax a muscle for the first time that we’ve always kept tight. Its a kind of paradox: an effort at relaxing, a striving to cease striving, a struggle to give up.

The gospel alone can free us for honesty, ownership, and admission, because the gospel alone destroys the sting and judgment associated with criticism. The gospel takes away the fear that drives defensiveness and frees us to openly admit our shortcomings. The gospel says, “in the place of your deepest failure and shame you are loved most tenderly.” The gospel says, “your deepest fears were already born by Christ.” The gospel says, “your sins were exposed and dealt with at the cross. The battle is already over.”

It makes me think of a man who is standing on trial before a large audience. A long list of (accurate) charges is read. Everyone is watching. And the man responds, “the charges against me are 100% true and fair. I am responsible. No one else is to blame. There is no excuse. And it is a big deal.” A man who is free to be that non-defensive is the happiest and most indestructible man in the world.  He has died to himself; his identity comes from something or someone else. He is fearless.

This is what the gospel does for us. In the court of God, which matters infinitely more than any human court, we have already been tried, and through Christ we have already been acquitted. Thank you, Jesus. Help us to be so secure in your love that we are fearless to repent.