Baby Cursing & the Downfall of Christianity

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January 7, 2019

If you’re sensitive to such things, you’ll notice we’re using a few slightly off-color words and phrases on this site. We’re guessing that for most of our readers, that’ll be a big yawn. If that’s you, carry on. But as pastors, we’re also pretty sure any type of cursing will offend some readers. If that’s you, we’re sorry. We’re not specifically trying to offend you. But we do want to invite you to think about it a little bit.

Will relaxed standards on curse words be the downfall of Christianity?

Sometimes that’s how it’s made to seem. But we disagree. Christianity is facing some pretty big undermining forces, but we don’t think those come in the form of four letter words.

Actually, we’re pretty convinced that the downfall of Christianity is more likely to be all the religious crap we can’t seem to separate from the gospel.

Let me explain.

A decade ago, I read an interview with Bono in Rolling Stone that was filled with F-bombs and Jesus. When I read that article I was inspired by Bono’s thoughts on God, but I was frustrated by the juxtaposition of the F-bombs and Jesus. The two felt mutually exclusive. I even thought to myself, “I wonder if Bono is truly saved?” No joke. I can be such a jackass.

  Is cursing a sign of damnation? Is it a sign of liberalism? Do those two things amount to the same thing? Let me quickly say several things that seem clear to me at this point in my life.   

“The things that get me wrapped around the axle are not the things that did it for Jesus. Let’s all chill out a bit and resist the urge to be more biblical than the Bible.”

1. We need to lighten up. It’s not that following Jesus isn’t the most serious thing in the world. It is. At least it is for me. It’s just that the things that can get me really wrapped around the axle are not the things that got Jesus wrapped around the axle. Therein lies the problem. Jesus never asked us to police other people’s words to ensure they would play on Christian radio. Look, Paul said, “Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking (Eph. 5:4),” but he also used the impolite word for “excrement, manure” in Philippians 3:8. If you’re speaking Greek the word is “skubalon,” but if you’re speaking English, it’s four letters long and rhymes with hit. So chill out a little bit and resist the urge to be more biblical than the Bible.

2. We need to work on our em-pha-sis. When something is really really really horrible, sometimes we need to EMPHASIZE IT with a strong word (like Paul did)! People can be real jackasses, even in the name of Jesus! That sucks.   

3. We need to undermine religious hypocrisy. This gets a whole chapter in Matthew 23. It’s a big deal. I sometimes think these baby curse words, I even whisper them to my wife and “safe” friends. So why not just say it aloud?  

4. Sin is ugly, so why are we holding back? Every time I take a posture of superiority to others, and heaven forbid God, it is really ugly. So we’ve decided to use words like jackass as confessions and laments. If you prefer “mean” or “Pharisee,” no problem. But say them in ALL CAPS. It’s good to denounce hypocrisy and the moralism that blinds us to our need for Jesus. We think it’s better to call out jackassery and religious poop. Either way, we want to get rid of everything that keeps us distracted from Jesus.

5. We need to accept tension. If you don’t know what you think about all this quite yet, that’s a wonderful thing. You are wrestling. Proper wrestling will cause you to ask, seek, knock, and find. Too often, Christians seem to come across as sure about everything. I do. That’s the worst place to be. The place farthest from Jesus. Jesus created a lot of tension, chiefly among the religious. My hope is that if you spend time getting to know us, you will find that we have a DEEP DEEP LOVE FOR JESUS! AND a deep disgust for the religious cultural undertones that undermine God’s work.  

I also want to note that we’re not about virtue signaling here. (That’s pretentious speak for: I don’t think I’m better than you because I do some “baby” cursing.) If you read more on this site, I hope you find this to be a place of confession, humility, and freedom. The only rule is that we fight hard against judgment and superiority. We want to be honest and direct. It may be a bit crass from time to time, but humility is a primo value here.

 We just want the main things to be the main things. JESUS. We want to love ALL people well, from prodigals to Pharisees. We want the church to be unified—not in theory, but in HEART and SPIRIT. And we would love to kill a little jackassary (ours chiefly) and burn a giant pile of religious poop on the internet’s doorstep. Hopefully, what you will find remaining is LOVE, JOY, PEACE, KINDNESS, and JESUS.   

Becket Cook: WWJD LGBT?

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Becket Cook

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August 15, 2019

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The following is a guest post from Becket Cook, a friend of ours, a Hollywood set designer, and the author of A Change of Affection: A Gay Man’s Incredible Story of Redemption.

On Sunday, September 20, 2009, I walked into an evangelical church in Hollywood called Reality LA as a self-proclaimed atheist and a gay man; two hours later I walked out a born-again Christian who no longer identified as gay. The power of the gospel utterly transformed me during that service. I now live as a single, celibate man.

It wasn’t condemning guilt heaped on me by Christians that spurred the transformation. It was the power of God. I am happy to deny myself and take up my cross and follow Jesus, because He’s infinitely worth it!

Let’s start by asking the obvious question: What would Jesus do with regards to those in the LGBT community? Would He distance himself from them? Would He refuse to interact with them? Would He look at them as a lost cause and move on? Would He protest gay pride parades? Would He hold up signs with condemning slogans scrawled across them? Would He reject them?

Quite the opposite.

In the Synoptic Gospels, we see Jesus dining with “sinners and tax collectors.” This was incredibly counter-cultural. Instead of acting like the religious folks of His day, He deigned to dine with “those people.” This unexpected action mortified and mystified the religious class. They were downright indignant. In His typical fashion, Jesus schools them:

I came not to call the righteous, but sinners. — Mark 2:17
Jesus focused on individuals, not groups (the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, for example). He was after people’s hearts, hence His deeply personal approach to those whom He encountered.

Of course, Jesus never compromised the truth: Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. — Luke 13:3

But Jesus was the master of balancing grace with truth. He does this perfectly throughout the Gospels.

My sister-in-law, Kim, was a natural at this. For me, she was a great example of how a Christian should respond to this issue. She has been a strong believer since early in her childhood. I met her when I was in high school, and she started dating my older brother, Greg. She and I always had a special bond; we enjoyed chatting and hanging out with each other. Years later, after I came out as gay to my whole family, my relationship with Kim remained the same, even though she was what I would have called a Bible-thumping, evangelical Christian. I knew that she knew that I knew that she believed homosexuality was a sin, but I never felt an ounce of condemnation from her. She never sat me down to explain to me that I was sinning. She never quoted Bible verses to me. She never judged me for my lifestyle. Instead, she did something far more dangerous: she prayed…for twenty years!

Over the years, while living in Los Angeles, I would go back to Dallas (my hometown) for Christmas. One of the highlights of my visits was getting together with Kim at the nearest coffee shop. We would chat for hours. I would talk about guys; she would talk about God. She was genuinely interested in my life, and never once said to me, “You know, you’re still sinning.” She was very open about her faith and would talk about what God was doing in her life. But this didn’t bother me, because I sensed an unconditional love from her. Her love for me didn’t increase or decrease based on whether or not I was in a relationship with a guy at that particular moment. In other words, she didn’t withhold love from me because of the way I lived my life.

She did two key things throughout the years: she loved me unconditionally and prayed for me without ceasing. That’s it. And it worked!

I was recently invited to a small dinner party at an incredibly beautiful home in Malibu. A friend from church was a work colleague with the owner, who was a gay man. Much to my friend’s and my surprise, the owner wanted to hear more about Christianity. He was curious as to why two gay guys would give up that life to follow Christ. Of course, we were more than happy to have this opportunity to share the Gospel with this group of relatively hardened skeptics, both gay and straight. The only problem was that our gracious host had failed to mention to his friends that two evangelical Christians, who had both been saved out of the homosexual life, were the guests of honor!

When, immediately after the first course was served, our host turned to me and asked if I would share my story with everyone at the table, I almost choked on my fennel salad. But as I was detailing the story of my conversion, I saw a look of genuine interest on the faces of the listeners; that is, until one of them asked the $64,000 question: “What about your sexuality?” As I addressed that issue, there was a sudden shift in the room. The mood quickly changed from polite interest to semi-hostile disgust. I tried my best to explain why homosexual behavior was incompatible with Christianity, when suddenly the discussion at the table became very animated. Various guests were chiming in with their own views, not only on this incendiary subject but on “spirituality” in general.

After our second course, the conversation started to become heated. So much so that at one point, when I felt like it was getting out of hand, I stopped everyone and said: “Guys, guys. I just want you all to know that the only reason I drove an hour out to Malibu on a school night during midterms (I was in seminary at the time) is because I love you! That’s it. I’m not here to win an argument. I’m here because I love you. Period.” Everyone was taken aback by this unexpected expression of my motives. A few of them seemed dumbstruck. The temperature in the room instantly dropped, bonhomie was quickly restored, and the evening ended on a good note. We didn’t experience a mass conversion that evening, but I was thankful for the opportunity to share what God has done in my life. Seeds were planted.

According to Jesus, the second greatest commandment is to love our neighbor as ourselves.

“Love people without condemning. Billy Graham famously said, ‘It is the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge, and my job to love.’ This could make all the difference in the world.”

We know what happened when the lawyer was foolish enough to put Jesus to the test by asking who his neighbor was. After telling the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus asks the lawyer which man in the parable proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among robbers. The lawyer responds,

The one who showed him mercy.

Jesus told him to go and do likewise (Luke 10:25-37).

Let us also do likewise. Get a coffee or share a meal with a gay family member or friend. Love him or her without condemning. This could make all the difference in the world. I think Billy Graham put it best when he famously said, “It is the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge, and my job to love.”

A Word from Jackass Theology
We, Ryan and Mark, appreciate Becket and his story so much. God has carried him through a lot, and when the time was perfect, God got Becket’s attention and grabbed his heart. While we know there are severe disagreements regarding issues related to the LGBT community, Becket’s story is a great example of God’s love traveling through loving relationships.

We highly recommend Becket’s new memoir. It’s an incredible story, and he challenges all of us—gay or straight–to give ourselves fully to Jesus.

In an effort to stand firm on God’s truth, we have joined many other Christians in treating beautiful people made in God’s image like jackasses. This is yet another area where we have had to confess our jackassery and ask, as Becket does, What Would Jesus Do? On the other hand, Becket has also taken a lot heat regarding his book because he now holds a non-affirming stance. All of this is Becket’s story, he’s sharing what happened to him and the convictions he developed. Jackassery can flow in both directions; we all need to relate to one another in love. Becket’s story is a reminder that we don’t have to drop our convictions to love and value another person. Remember that Jesus said the world would know that we are his disciples by our love (John 13:35), not by our impeccable moral standards or firmly articulated convictions.

Rachel Held Evans & the Fight Against Jackassery

By

Mark Beuving

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May 6, 2019

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Most of you know that Rachel Held Evans died late last week. Tragedy is not a strong enough word. If you’re not familiar with Rachel and her work, just go to Twitter and search for #becauseofRHE. It’ll tell you everything you need to know. Actually, that’s really all you need to know, you don’t need to waste your time reading this post. I’m not qualified to say anything about what her life and work meant. I’ve read one of her books (I started a second today), several of her blog posts, and I’ve followed her on Twitter for several years. That’s it. But I’ve seen enough to know that aside from the fact that we’re all jackasses, Rachel Held Evans was about as un-jackass as they come. And so much of her ministry was devoted to fighting jackassery. We have a lot to learn from what she spent her short life embodying.

Rachel took a lot of crap on Twitter. A LOT. She brought it on herself, but not at all in the way we usually use that phrase. I just mean that she was not afraid to make herself a target for angry, hateful people. In my experience, gracious, patient, loving people don’t intentionally step into intense conflict. Rachel was unique in that as far as I can tell. Brian Zahnd said it well when he tweeted, “It’s going to be weird coming to Twitter and not see[ing] what bear Rachel Held Evans is poking next” (@BrianZahnd). He meant that with so much respect. The day she passed he had tweeted, “Christianity has a long history of vigorous debate. But at the end of the day we belong to the body of Christ. Rachel Held Evans was an important interlocutor in our ongoing debate. Today she finished her race.”

There are exactly zero people with whom I agree on everything (which I’m sure is a type of jackass—I’ll have to start writing that post!). Rachel was one of the all people with whom I had disagreements. But I learned a lot from her writing; I was constantly challenged to think and rethink. And my grief at the loss of Rachel and my massive admiration for her are bigger than the way she made me think. I think I’ve been most inspired by the way she loved in the midst of debate.

I’ve seen Rachel take on some of the biggest bullies on Twitter. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been to stand up to people who called her horrible things and used Bible verses to shout hate at her. And these are people with thousands of followers eager to do the same. Yet she set what God put on her heart in a gracious but firm way and didn’t allow herself to be pushed around. In doing this, she earned the respect of people across the theological spectrum. For example, she would push back on Russell Moore from time to time (btw, NOT one of the bullies I just mentioned), but the interactions were constructive. After her death, one of his expressions of respect for Rachel was, “Let’s not conform to the pattern of this vicious social—Darwinian age. Let’s kindle kindness, even (especially!) for those outside our tribal silos” (@drmoore). Beth Moore (another conservative Moore), tweeted out, “Thinking what it was about @rachelheldevans that could cause many on other sides of issues to take their hats off to her in her death. People are run rife with grief for her babies, yes. But also I think part of it is that, in an era of gross hypocrisy, she was alarmingly honest” (@BethMooreLPM).

Shane Claiborne (@ShaneClaiborne) tweeted this quote from Rachel, and it seems an excellent summary of what she embodied for so many people from so many different traditions: “Imagine if every church became a place where everyone is safe, but no one is comfortable.” She kept people from making loud but lazy assertions and pushed us all to think more carefully and love more sacrificially.

So much of Rachel’s fight was for the dignity of marginalized people. She was tireless in fighting to see women, the LGBT community, and people of color empowered, treated with respect, given space for their voices to be heard, etc. To many people, Rachel became a sort of online pastor. She gave them so much love, encouragement, and truth through her public voice, but I’ve also heard so many stories of her reaching out personally to encourage and assist and strengthen. That’s a pastor in the truest sense, and it’s all the more impressive because she was able to do it through an online platform that most find impersonal and dehumanizing. She brought love and humanity to debates that had become dehumanized, to platforms that had become loveless, and to people who had been dismissed and mistreated their entire lives.

“Rachel Held Evans was a pastor in the truest sense, and it’s all the more impressive because she was a pastor through an online platform that most find impersonal and dehumanizing.”

Audrey Assad gave one of the most powerful statements I’ve read yet about Rachel’s impact: “I find myself praying and hoping that @rachelheldevans’ severest critics will read #becauseofRHE and see the garden she tended, the fruit it has borne, the way it has flowered in the world” (@audreyassad). I literally tear up at the thought of someone saying something like that about me when I’m gone. Her impact, ultimately, was “the garden she tended.” She was a generative person (in the rich sense of Makoto Fujimura’s Culture Care concept). She was a culture maker (in the rich sense of Andy Crouch’s Culture Making concept). She loved persistently and modeled inspiring debate on important issues, even while aggressively loving the people affected by those debates. She’s an amazing model for me of what it looks like to fight jackassery. It’s tragic that she’s gone. We’ll all have to carry the work forward in as Rachel-like a manner as we can muster.

Watching Hamilton Like a Jackass

By

Mark Beuving

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April 15, 2019

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Two people can watch the same event unfold and share significantly different stories about what happened. This is a commonly understood phenomena regarding eyewitness accounts, investigators have to deal with it all the time. It makes finding out who is right infuriating.

Does it seem strange that two people (or millions of people) can read the same Bible and come away with different conclusions and emphases? It shouldn’t. To be human is to be situated, and to be situated is to see from a very specific perspective.

“It shouldn’t surprise us that we read the same Bible but come to different conclusions. To be human is to be situated, and to be situated is to see from a specific perspective.”

The missionary/missiologist Andrew Walls wrote a lot about these dynamics, because missionaries have to learn to avoid jackassery. Think about it for a minute. You leave your church and culture where your beliefs are clearly formulated and everything is done exactly as you prefer. Then you fly over an ocean and start talking theology and pastoring in a totally different cultural setting. These people love God every bit as much as you do, but they emphasize different facets of God and the way he relates to people. They might not even think to affirm some of the things you consider most important. They’ve never heard of John Piper, Rachel Held Evans, or Francis Chan, so they’re not purposely trying to contradict their teaching, but they definitely do from time to time.

How are you going to respond to this? With grace and understanding? Or like a jackass? In this setting, a jackass insists that the way he understands Scripture is the way Scripture is to be understood. A jackass equates her specific perspective with capital T Truth. A jackass insists that disagreeing on these things means false teaching, possibly damnation.

But Walls says this misses it entirely. He offers a helpful illustration.

Let’s say a thousand people go to the theatre to watch Hamilton. Everyone is sitting in a different seat. Some are seated low, barely able to see over the lip of the stage. Others are seated high with a better view of the stage but without being able to see the actors’ facial expressions. Some are seated on the left and can see a bit more behind the right curtain. When an actor emerges from that curtain, the left-sitters can see what’s happening before anyone else. When something happens on the far left of the stage, however, the low-left-sitters hear the audience’s laughter before they identify the action.

The point is, there’s no such thing as “watching Hamilton.” There’s no view from nowhere. If you’re going to watch the play, you have to choose a seat. And the seat we choose shapes the way we see, experience, and interpret the play to a significant extent. This is important: it’s the same play, but we are connecting to different aspects of it. If someone’s favorite part of Hamilton is the moment when Darth Vader walks onstage, of course, you know they weren’t watching the same play. But if her favorite part of the play is different than yours, then you’re a jackass for calling her out on it.

I’m sure you’ve been able to see where this is heading. I think a lot of our theological battles come down to viewing the Bible from our own specific seats. My theological training happened in a place where John Piper was condemned for sitting where miraculous gifts looked prominent in the Jesus story. Our own seats were so low we couldn’t even see those miracles taking place, apparently. We also denounced R.C. Sproul for seeing a thread in how the story ends (eschatology) that we hadn’t noticed. I brayed along with my camp as we called out these “false teachings,” but man, we were being a bunch of jackasses.

“If we fixate on our specific interpretation of the Bible yet somehow miss the reality that THE BIBLE IS ABOUT LOVE, then we may as well have skipped it. We’re worse off for having read it.”

In this illustration, we don’t need to all agree on every detail or emphasis in the play. But we’re all watching the same play. Some interpretations are wrong, to be sure, but if there’s no room for a different emphasis, a different approach, and a different interpretation here and there, then we are perpetuating jackass theology. And if we fixate on nailing down the authoritative interpretation but neglect the reality that THE PLAY IS ABOUT LOVING PEOPLE, then we may as well have skipped the play. Actually, we’re worse off for having watched the play.

Missionaries have to consider these realities. They have no choice. In the U.S. we seem to have come to a place where we feel free to disregard or attack anyone who sees something different than us. We have to cut this out. The body is meant to be diverse. The whole thing is supposed to be held together by love. We appreciate the play all the more when we discuss it with other people who were sitting on the other side of the theatre.

Don’t Exaggerate for Your Good Cause

By

Mark Beuving

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June 17, 2019

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After picking up my daughters from school a few weeks ago, my wife, Laura, found a flyer on her windshield criticizing public schools. In California, a newly approved social studies curriculum has been a huge source of outrage. I almost wrote “debate,” but I haven’t seen that. All I have seen is people yelling at or about each other. The flyer warned about what our kids were going to be exposed to in public school.

Our kids found the flyer first. They’re in first grade and third grade. So ironically, the flyer that was trying to warn us about what our kids were going to be exposed to is the thing that exposed our kids to something they hadn’t seen before.

We decided that this would be a good time to have a deeper discussion on sex and gender than we had previously done. Honestly, it was a wonderful discussion, focused on love and grace and how to dignify and care for people with whom we disagree. I’m sincerely glad we got to talk about it, and we realized this was the perfect age to begin this discussion. We have lots more discussing to do.

“Whether I’m taking my kids to public school or to my own church, I know they’ll be exposed to ideas and people with whom they will disagree.”

We have never imagined that in sending our kids to public school we would agree with everything our kids were being taught. Actually, I don’t bring my kids to our church assuming I’ll agree with everything they’re being taught. This world is not homogenous, and if I know anything about the Christian landscape, it’s that we’re not all the same. So whether I’m taking my kids to a government institution or to my own church, I know they’ll be exposed to ideas and people with whom they will disagree. I actually think that’s a valuable part of education and continued personal growth.

Grace is the key. We have to learn to dignify and love the people with whom we disagree. When we decide we can’t learn from or with people who differ from us, we’re adopting a cocoon mentality. I’m not taking some moral high ground here. I still want my kids to choose good friends and I have no intention of enrolling them in a satanist school. We all have to make the best decisions we can for our kids. I do my best to care for my kids and follow my convictions. I also think it’s important to make that assumption about the people who wrote that flyer and about the people who passed the new social studies curriculum.

If being part of your camp requires you to assume the worst of everyone who is on the other side, then your camp is inherently problematic and dehumanizing. If you’re unable to state the opposing view in a way that its adherents would agree to, then you’re not engaging in dialogue. You’re attacking a fake opponent and you’re harming everyone, including yourself.

(To be clear, I’m not saying that everyone who is concerned about California’s curriculum is fighting against a straw man, but I have seen some blatantly false information flying around. As an example, I’ve seen people attacking components of sex ed curriculum—”can you believe they’re going to teach this to kindergartners?!”—but the components they’re addressing are designed to be taught to older kids, and the California curriculum in question is not sex ed, it’s social studies. I’ve also seen our specific school district send out communications dispelling some of the myths directly, but it seems those communications are being ignored in favor of more fearful assumptions. I’m not saying everyone has perfect intentions or a wise approach, but I am saying we shouldn’t assume the worst of everyone.)

“If being part of your camp requires you to assume the worst of everyone who is on the other side, then your camp is inherently problematic and dehumanizing.”

Truly, I’m not trying to defend anything in particular, I’m just asking all of us to engage in sound logical discussion and to spend some time listening and researching before we settle our opinions. And most of all, I’m asking that we frame everything in love. I understand that many parents don’t want their kids exposed to concepts they disagree with. Do what you need to do to educate your kids—I’m not here to judge. But we need to reach a point where we love the people behind what we perceive as an “agenda.” I’ve heard a lot of fearful statements saying that California is trying to make all of our kids gay. I’ve also talked to a lot of teachers who say they’re just trying to make sure no LGTBQ kids—or any kids—are bullied or made to feel like freaks. Tragically, we don’t have a good track record in this regard. Compassion is a noble goal. Acknowledging someone else’s humanity is vital. Not every idea is equally valid, but we’re not helping our cause—regardless of how good it is—if we have to distort the facts in order to more fully demonize our opponents.

“Not every idea is equally valid, but we’re not helping our cause—regardless of how good it is—if we have to distort the facts in order to more fully demonize our opponents.”

This is just my personal opinion, but I don’t have a ton of faith in lobbyists and politicians and school board execs who don’t have actual education experience (I know some do). But I do have a lot of faith in every teacher my girls have ever had. These have all been wonderful people who love my girls and genuinely invest in their education and growth. They’re not twisting villainous mustaches trying to make my daughters into Hitler, they’re just trying to help them on their journey. I’m so thankful for these wonderful human beings who refuse to let crap salaries deter them from pouring themselves fully into our children and therefore our future.

Don’t agree with me. Debate, discuss, but don’t demonize. As some of us choose to engage in public education and as some of us choose to opt out, my prayer is that all of our interactions will be characterized by dignity and love, and that every human being will be treated as what they are: beautiful people carefully crafted by God in his own image. That’s no small thing. And it matters more than any of our ideas.

3 Justifications for Hate

By

Ryan MacDiarmid

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June 13, 2019

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A couple weeks ago, a Gary Oldman (actor) meme hit reddit.

What was interesting was how quickly it moved up reddit, and how many people felt the need to make exceptions for their right to hate certain types of people.

Below are three of the common reasons people gave as justification to hate others and a few “Jesusy” things to consider.

1) I can hate you because you harm others

I hate murders. I hate child molestors. I hate biggots. I hate racists. I hate Nazis. These were common sentiments across the thousands of reddit comments.

Does God hate morally evil people? Take a look at Proverbs 6:16-19.

There are six things that the LORD hates, seven that are an abomination to him:
haughty eyes, a lying tongue,
and hands that shed innocent blood,
a heart that devises wicked plans,
feet that make haste to run to evil,
a false witness who breathes out lies,
and one who sows discord among brothers

“Just because I disagree with you, that does not mean I hate you.” – Gary Oldman

Notice in this proverb that there are seven things that the Lord hates. Pride, lying, innocent bloodshed, wicked hearts, pursing evil, false witness, sowing discord among brothers.

When people express their right to hate, usually they are pointing to things on this list, or a list that is rooted in similar ideas. I hate murderers (innocent bloodshed). I hate sexual abuse (wicked heart and plans). I hate racists (discord among brothers). The interesting thing is that God HATES these THINGS too!

So we might do well to have a little more hatred of these THINGS in our lives. But notice the emphasis. God hates these THINGS! Hating these THINGS is radically different than despising the humans that do them. In our culture, we are horrible at separating the person from their actions, except of course, when we are looking at our own failures.

Sure, let’s hate the hate. Hate the murder. Hate the sexual abuse. Hate the misogyny. You need not be mild mannered about these despicable acts. Jesus was righteously indignant a few times. Flipping over temple tables comes to mind.

But I’m not sure that hating HUMAN BEINGS for any reason is profitable, healthy, or necessary. Especially not if you have a sober view or yourself and a God-sized view of love.

2) I hate you because you hated me first

One “closeted gay man” wrote:

“I can’t peacefully coexist with people that don’t agree with my existence. I am a closeted gay person. People have made homophobic jokes, complained about the gay agenda, to my face. People have advocated for eugenics to me.”

Another man wrote, “I hate racists, when they target my family and say that my children should die in a gas chamber.”

These are painful to read. Never would I ever want anyone to be the recipients of such hate. I empathize. People are awful, and when their words cut to the core of a person’s value and identity it feels like the only appropriate response is to hate those who have hated you.

Yet, The “I hate you because you hated me first” argument isn’t going to bring change. It will never bring healing to the crazy cycles we get stuck in. 99% of my kids’ disputes begin with, “I hit him because he hit me first.” While all this behavior is normal and understandable, Jesus had another way.

“99% of my kids’ disputes begin with, ‘I hit him because he hit me first.’ While all this behavior is normal and understandable, Jesus had another way.”

“If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.” – John 15:18-19

Jesus warned his followers of the hatred that was coming their way. But if Jesus proved anything it was that God’s love is vast enough to absorb the hatred thrown his way. And if the cross doesn’t do it for you, remember Jesus also famously counseled his followers to “turn the other cheek.”

In the book The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas unpacks the many layers of hatred that provoke violence and racism in America. Whether you love the book or hate it (ironic), the book is a thesis on hatred. The hate given to the black community, the hate directed at law enforcement, the hate involved in black on black crime—all of it simply produces ripples of chaos and violence. The only way to stop the ripples is to cease the ripples of hate. If that is going to happen, someone must be first. Someone must—in the name of love—absorb it rather than retaliating.

Are you willing to do that?

“Hate can’t drive out hate, only love can do that” – MLK

3) I hate you because I hate everyone (and I also happen to disagree)

One reddit reader wrote,
“I don’t hate people because I disagree with them, I hate everyone and just happen to disagree with some of them…”

While this comment was meant to be funny. I think it might be the most honest of the bunch. Not because I think most people hate everyone, but because in most cases hate actually precedes disagreement.

First we feel hatred, then we justify its existence.

Our hatred often has more to do with our own emotional and spiritual garbage than it does with the person that we actually hate. People make us feel insecure. Having villains makes us feel superior. So we come up with reasons why others are beneath us.

A secure person has plenty of grace to give, plenty of room to admit their own faults, and plenty of compassion to extend for the mistakes of others.

“A secure person has plenty of grace to give, plenty of room to admit their own faults, and plenty of compassion to extend for the mistakes of others.”

Jesus looked at humans with compassion

All this hate talk brings to mind a single verse Matt 9:36.

When he [JESUS] saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

When Jesus looks over the crowds he doesn’t see what we see.

When we stand before crowds, we make it about us. Are people with me? Are they against me? We are easily insecure and nervous under the scrutiny of others. When Jesus looked at the crowds it was about them. He could see into their souls. He looked at prostitutes, religious zealots, carpenters, priests, diseased, afflicted, rich, and impoverished and it MOVED HIM to be compassionate.

“I talk big about love and ‘agreeing to disagree’ but there are certain types of people that I LOVE to HATE. And as Angie Thomas reminds me, The Hate I Give &*$#@ Everybody!”

Jesus sees people differently than I do. He is empathetic. He knows what his harassed and helpless sheep need.

I’m not so different than all the Reddit commentators. I talk big about love and “agreeing to disagree” but there are certain types of people that I LOVE to HATE. And as Angie Thomas reminds me, The Hate I Give &*$#@ Everybody!

When Can I Be A Jackass?

By

Ryan MacDiarmid

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April 1, 2019

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Since we launched Jackass Theology, the question has come in many different forms: When is it okay to argue with someone over theology? Should we ever confront people with heretical views?

It’s an important question. Here are 5 quick things to consider:

1. Diversity and Disagreement Are Wonderful

Diversity is wonderful. Diversity is necessary. Diversity inherently means that we will passionately disagree. Disagreement is not the problem. No matter how much we try to get others to see from our perspective, many won’t. So disagreement is ALWAYS ALLOWED. In fact, I will say: disagreement should be celebrated. It means that we are exactly as God intended us to be: DIVERSE. Disagreeing with someone doesn’t make us jackasses, it’s how we treat people when we disagree.

2. The Holy Spirit Is Better than Jesus

Those are Jesus’ words. He said that it was better for the Holy Spirit to lead his disciples than for him to continue to lead the disciples (John 16:7). That’s kind of important. If I give you a rule or law about when it is okay to argue and when it is not, without a doubt there will be a million little exceptions to the rule. (Just look in the English language: I before E, EXCEPT after C…) So the minute we make a rule, we then need to talk about all the exceptions, which shows us the shortcoming of law in general. The New Testament is all about how the living Spirit is better than the law, and even better than Jesus being our homeboy. Law is limited. Law can protect. Law can be a tutor, but law is not life.

So when must I confront, wrong thinking? Bottom line: There is no rule. We must come to trust the Holy Spirit in doing our best to be like Jesus in each and every situation.

Turn to Galatians 5 and look at the works of the flesh (jealousy, division, strife, etc.). Compare those to the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, etc.). If love, peace, and joy demand that you carefully and lovingly speak up, and the Holy Spirit is prompting you to say something, by all means, DO IT (Paul did; so did Jesus). But make certain it is because you love the person, and not because they are offensive to you, or because you are putting yourself in a place of superiority. LOVE LISTENS—A LOT.

3. Jesus Confronted Religious Hypocrisy

Most of Jesus’ confrontations dealt with the fact that dead religion had failed to bring life to the people of God. Jesus confronted all the things that get in the way of our absolute surrender to him and the Kingdom.

A guiding metaphor in the Gospels is that of a tree. Israel was like a tree, once alive, but so much of their religious systems and practices caused them to miss the heart of God, and ultimately the Messiah. Jesus came to prune the dead religion. When he confronted religious leaders, he was bringing new life by tearing down what was dead.

“When you see RELIGION taking the place of SPIRITUAL LIFE, I believe we have a mandate to lovingly challenge the dead things we have allowed to take the place of a vital, passionate, dynamic relationship with God.”

So when you see RELIGION taking the place of SPIRITUAL LIFE, I believe we have a mandate to lovingly challenge the dead things we have allowed to take the place of a vital, passionate, dynamic relationship with God. (Bruxy Cavey (@bruxy) has a tremendous book on this subject, called The End of Religion. Read it!)

4. Paul Wrote to Churches that Were Losing the Gospel

Paul regularly wrote to churches at risk of losing the Gospel. This is a great model of when to speak up. But the call is to protect the simple heart of the Gospel. Jesus died for your sin. Everyone who believes is included. DO NOT ADD YOUR CULTURAL PREFERENCES TO IT! This is what the Jews and Gentiles did and it created unnecessary rifts. Paul called churches back to the Gospel as a means of restoring unity rather than creating more factions.

5. “Who Is My Neighbor” Is a Jackass Question

In Luke 10, when a lawyer was trying to weasel his way out of Jesus’ command to love his neighbor, he asked: “Who is my Neighbor?” He wanted there to be an exception.

“We often ask questions like ‘Who is my neighbor’ or ‘When am I allowed to confront people’ to get out of the high call to love EVERYBODY, prodigal and Pharisee alike.”

The better question is: “What does love demand of me?” Sometimes love demands some difficult conversations. Sometimes love demands confrontation. But in every single situation love demands patience, kindness, and self-control. In every case, love means always hoping, always trusting, always persevering. If you’re tempted to think of this route as a copout, consider Paul’s statement: “love never fails” (1 Cor. 13:8).

The Silent Jackass

By

Ryan MacDiarmid

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April 18, 2019

2

“I must make two honest confessions to you my Christian and Jewish brothers, I must confess to you that over the last few years, I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the negro’s great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Councilor, or the Ku Klux Klanner but the white moderate who is more devoted to ORDER than to JUSTICE, who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension, to a positive peace which is the presence of justice.”
– Martin Luther King, Jr., Letter from a Birmingham Jail

The Silent Jackass is one of the most common forms of being a jackass, because it is disguised as civility. Silence seems like peace, but in actuality it is nothing of the sort. I have fallen into this trap for a long time. For years I have observed Social Media vitriol and rolled my eyes at the immaturity and contention. Why the big fuss? Everyone needs to simmer down.

The day after Donald Trump was elected President, I got on a phone call with a group of Pastors from all over the nation for a regularly scheduled cohort meeting. This small group of pastors were from relatively diverse contexts, and many of them were utterly heartbroken over the election, and specifically over evangelical support for Trump. They were heartbroken for their people—the minorities they ministered to, the LGBTQ community they ministered to—who were suddenly afraid that hatred and bigotry would be permissible under this new administration. I sat silent on that phone call, and kept thinking to myself, “What’s the problem? God is sovereign, why are we making such a big deal of this? Presidents come and go.”

The “why are we making such a big deal of this” perspective is one of the mantras of the Silent Jackass. The Silent Jackass thinks that peace in life is free of conflict. “If I just stay out of the fray, I won’t make it worse.”

Don’t get me wrong, in a world of vitrol and finger pointing, sometimes a little silence is welcome. The jackass part occurs when one of two things happens: Either the silent one begins to think they are in fact superior to the vocal ones clamoring for justice and causing a disturbance, or the silent one sees injustice happening, and is too afraid to say something. Both are dangerous.

“The Silent Jackass comes in two flavors. Those who are silent because they fear the repercussions of speaking up, and those who are silent because they honestly don’t see the pain of others. Both are dangerous.”

I see the Silent Jackass as so many suburban white people turn their nose at the protests of the African American community every time there is an officer involved shooting. Suburban white people call for civility. They call for peace. They call for order. (Please hear me: I’m not saying every officer is at fault every time there is a shooting; I’m talking about the lack of compassion and unwillingness to acknowledge the suffering of another group of people.)

As Martin Luther King demonstrated, peace doesn’t come through silence. It requires speaking up. It needs to be fought for. It doesn’t require violence, but it does require conflict and tension.

The problem rests in our definition of PEACE. Peace in the Hebrew Bible is Shalom. It’s physical, spiritual, and emotional harmony with the world, others, and the God who created it all. It isn’t just the absence of conflict. Shalom is an ideal, it will never be experienced fully until God himself restores all things for good.

The forces of the world and the forces of the enemy are constantly fighting against Shalom. They are trying to pull it all apart. If nothing is done at all, like entropy, things just dissolve. It requires the active work of the Holy Spirit and the costly loving response of God’s people to fight against this natural decay.

“The Silent Jackass is fine with things staying the same, or living under the delusion that the necessary changes will happen in silence, without conflict, without needing to get their hands dirty.”

So when Martin Luther King spoke up, I believe it was the Spirit of God in him, crying out for a little piece of Shalom. When we call our churches to LOVE, PEACE, JOY, and HUMAN DIGNITY, we are fighting for Shalom.

The Silent Jackass is fine with things staying the same, or living under the delusion that the necessary changes will happen in silence, without conflict, without needing to get their hands dirty. Let me remind you of how many times Paul was imprisoned for the gospel, how many Christians had to die for the gospel to spread to you and me. Let me remind you that peace doesn’t come from silence. The most beautiful acts of love come from speaking up for another’s injustices.

Don’t be the Silent Jackass. Step up to the mic, you’ve got peace to spread!

You Can’t Write about Jackassery without Being a Jackass

By

Mark Beuving

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December 4, 2019

3

I’d like to bring you into my struggle with this blog a bit. A few weeks ago, I wrote about some very demeaning statements John MacArthur and Phil Johnson made about Beth Moore. I said their comments were cruel and seemed designed to wound. I still stand by those statements. But here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure I myself was a jackass in my response.

When a person decides to start a blog about being a jackass, one quickly discovers that it’s impossible to point out jackassery without frequently dipping into the very evil one is trying to eradicate. Turns out, that’s Jackass Theology Blogging 101.

If you’ve been around for a minute, you know that Ryan and I have tried to be very confessional throughout. We can clearly see the jackass tendencies in ourselves and in each other, so we try to write about that rather than always pointing out the jackassery we see in the world around us.

But I know we don’t always get it right.

I have re-read my post about John MacArthur many times, and I keep praying through whether or not the things I said were appropriate. Am I calling attention to an example of the ways our pursuit of orthodoxy can become a manifestation of the “works of the flesh” rather than the “fruit of the Spirit”? I think so. Most of you thought so as well. But then some of you saw my post playing into “outrage culture” or “cancel culture.” Were my words any better than the demeaning words I was hoping to call us away from? I honestly don’t know for sure (again, I keep re-reading and am not myself convinced), but I am confident that I didn’t get it all right. I tried to affirm my appreciation for MacArthur’s ministry and tried to use it as a means of calling us on to something better than what he did that one day. I’m sure I botched it. He loves Jesus, and I don’t want to have torn him down. I’m sincerely sorry for the ways my post tore down anything that’s good and belongs to the kingdom of God.

Here’s something I know for sure: I am not God. Jesus would get this blog exactly right at every turn. I know I’m not going to be able to do that. However, I don’t believe that making mistakes is reason enough for burning the whole thing to the ground. Instead, I think it’s a great reminder that I am not God, and that I need to continue to confess and seek him. I absolutely believe that examples of our own jackassery are more powerful than examples of the jackassery in Christian celebrities. My own examples get far fewer clicks, but they’re more meaningful. And prevalent.

I still think it’s worth fighting jackassery. But I know we’ll constantly need to acknowledge the ways it creeps out of our own mouths and actions. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn helpfully said, “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either – but right through every human heart.” If that’s not true, I don’t know what is. And truly, the line separating jackasses from Spirit-filled people does not pass through theological camps or denominations, but right through every human heart. Including my own. Especially my own.

“The line separating jackasses from Spirit-filled people does not pass through theological camps or denominations, but right through every human heart. Including my own. Especially my own.”

We’re still trying to learn how to expose jackassery and say “that’s not okay” and “that’s not from God” while keeping ourselves unstained from jackassery. I’d love to say that we’ll find the balance at some point, but I know that’s not true. We’re not Jesus, and he’s the only one who completely avoids jackassery. But he’s also the one who heals jackassery, so there’s a lot of hope there.

The reason we’re fighting this battle is because we believe we all need to let go of our petty doctrinal certitude and our need to be right and instead cling to Jesus. And that’s a battle worth fighting. We should expect that along the way we ourselves will need to acknowledge times we’ve co-opted the moral high ground and begun to speak with the voice of the jackass. After all, we need Jesus as much as anyone. He’s the point of it all anyway, and I’m glad for a chance to acknowledge my dependence on him.

Have Fewer Opinions

By

Mark Beuving

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May 20, 2019

2

You have too many. That’s just my opinion, of course. But I’m serious about it. I know because I have too many opinions. I actually feel obligated to have more opinions than I do.

Do you ever feel this pull to be more opinionated about more topics?

In their dated but insightful book How to Watch TV News, Neil Postman and Steve Powers landed a thought that felt so freeing to read:

“Reduce by one third the number of opinions you feel obligated to have. One of the reasons many people are addicted to watching TV news is that they feel under pressure to have an opinion about almost everything.”
– Neil Postman & Steve Powers, How to Watch TV News, 1993

Depending on your age, you may need to swap out “social media” for “TV news,” but the point works either way.

I have read so many stinking articles on the Mueller report: what he’s trying to say in it, why he said what he did and why he left out what he left out, whether or not Barr was accurate in his summary, and why every single writer’s take on it is the most important thing in the world. I keep feeling this pressure like I need to know! But I don’t.

The problem is bigger than social media. As a pastor, whenever I’m talking to someone in a struggling marriage or in a difficult parenting situation, or even when I’m talking to a recent high school or college graduate, I warn them: Listen, you’re going to have to figure out what God is calling you to do here. But you should also know that a lot of people are going to share their opinions with you about what you should do. Most of them mean well, but most of these opinions will not be helpful.

What is it that makes us feel like we have to have an opinion about what other people should be doing? What do you think about the Mueller report? What’s your cap for how much a pastor should spend on shoes? Who should be watching Game of Thrones? And coming soon to everything you’ll see, hear, read, and watch for an entire year: who should become (or stay) the next President?

“Can I ask you to give up the opinions you’ve done almost zero research on or to stop posting on the issues you think you know about just because someone ranted about it on Facebook?”

It’s not uncommon for me to scroll through Twitter and see several statements like, “If you’re a pastor and you don’t speak out on ______ this week, then you’re part of the problem.” Or some variation thereof. It’s hard to read that and not think, Oh shoot, yeah, maybe I should say something about that. But I don’t know a ton about that thing. I’d better learn about it real quick so I can share my opinion.

What if we really did try to hold 33% fewer opinions? Honestly, think of how many opinions you find yourself expressing that you’ve done almost zero research on. Think of the issues you think you know about just because someone ranted about it on Facebook. Think of the people you don’t know very well but about whom you have a pretty strong opinion. Maybe we could let all of those opinions go.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if the only opinions we held were hard-earned? If we tried to use phrases like “I’m not sure” or “I haven’t looked into that” or “I could be wrong here” when speaking about issues where we haven’t sought out multiple voices and read multiple articles and done some real soul-searching and engaged in some respectful dialogue? You’ll all be fine—better, actually—without my lazy, ill-informed take on the Mueller report. What opinions could you spare your friends, family, and the online community?

I fully acknowledge that there is such a thing as a Silent Jackass, and I am often that guy. Sometimes we need to roll up our sleeves and learn about someone else’s struggle so we can help. Don’t let some vague pressure force you into these opinions, let love for real people pull you in. Loving your neighbor will mean understanding what her experience is like. And that takes time. But if it’s time you’re invested in loving someone, it’s worth it.

Can we give this a try? It might help with how awful and heated and shallowly divisive things have been lately. But truly, that’s just my opinion.