by Ryan Smith | Aug 23, 2017
I love Oklahoma.
This is a great state for many reasons. If I were to list the top five reasons I love this state, somewhere near the top of that list would be one simple word:
Thunderstorms.
Recently, our Oklahoma sky was ablaze with streaks of lightning that illuminated swirling rain and charging winds. After each brilliant flash, I waited (1 Oklahoma…2 Oklahoma…) then came the familiar peels, rumbles, crackles and shaking booms that have stirred me since I was a child.
As I sat and watched the storm roll through, I had a few categorical thoughts.
- I feel small.
- I’m thankful for shelter.
- This will pass.
- God is big.
I feel small when I watch a thunderstorm because I am completely at its mercy. I have no control.
I am thankful for shelter because, even though I am in the midst of deafening booms and rogue fissures of electricity, I have no fear. I can gently rock my scared five-year-old as he passes from waves of concern to the gentle drifting of sleep – mere feet away from radical and raging elements.
I understand this will pass because I have seen this story before. Though unpredictable and certainly dangerous, there will be an after. This is not the first storm, and it won’t be the last.
I see God is big because the Bible tells me God is the creator of all things. It tells me God is sovereign. It tells me storms are of no lasting consequence in light of the surpassing story of the Gospel working itself out, even in the midst of creation groaning and thrashing about in subjection to a sinful world.
It is funny how natural phenomena like rain, storms or campfires make us introspective. They make us teeter on the thin line between fear and awe. They captivate our attention in large part, because we are captive to them. We are dependent on the fire’s heat and the thunderstorm’s rain. Yet we cannot venture too close to either for fear of succumbing to these same elements.
We are too fragile.
I cannot watch a thunderstorm without thinking about God. Like the disciples on the calm and gentle water, still drenched from crashing waves, standing in fearful awe of Jesus, I cannot help but ask myself the question, “Who is this that even the winds and waves obey him?”
The morning after the storm, I refreshed my twitter feed to see creation socially groaning and thrashing about – being strangled by sin and gasping for redemptive breath. I heard crashing booms of doomsday prophets and suspicious rumbles of what may still be to come. I saw streaks of anger fracturing the quiet backdrop.
So much danger. So much violent and rushing threat. Such chaos and uncertainty.
I felt myself wanting to respond like my five-year-old the night before – covering my eyes and ears to quiet the noise.
I’ll be honest. When I see the social winds rage and watch the flash bangs of daily derision, I often feel helpless and don’t know what to do. More or less, I fear I am just an idle onlooker waiting for the storm to pass – documenting it on my Instagram feed to feel involved in the situation.
Sometimes I want to rage into the discussion, throwing caution to the wind, protecting what is precious, and screaming against the stinging bullets of rain.
Sometimes I just want to retreat to an interior room and wait for the All Clear.
Either way, I know I will never stop the storm. As noble and strong as I may present myself, at the end of the day, this is bigger than me.
I have a responsibility and a duty to do what I can, certainly. But what I can do will never fully reverse the effects of the fall or secure a new kingdom under my steady hand where all of these tumults have ceased.
My voice is too weak. I am not God.
But still, by grace I have God and the Gospel.
In these times when I feel small, I find I can still use that small voice to speak to those who would hear of our God who is not small.
I can invite those in harm’s way to take cover under the shelter of the Gospel I enjoy.
I can maintain the perspective of the Gospel and live in light of future glory though this world fades and evil continually proves the Bible true.
Ultimately, like the storms outside my window, the social storms surrounding our world point both to our insignificance as well as the weight and glory of He who is, in control of even the social winds and waves.
We should not be surprised when these storms come. They should stir us. Their inherent danger and weight should be understood. We must be diligent and prepare. We must warn and protect. We must not shrink back from a reality greater than ourselves or pretend we are somehow immune from the effects of social gales.
But let these storms give us the same reminder and sense of fearful awe as their natural namesake.
Let them remind us we are small and God is big.
We have been given shelter even in an age of storms.
This too shall pass.
God is big.
Sometimes we can do nothing greater than thank God that He is.
by Ryan Smith | Aug 8, 2017
What is the Bible?
A collection of stories? A guidebook for life? A book of great quotes to help you achieve your best?
Let me ask the question another way: If someone considered the way you treat the Bible, what would they say the Bible is?
In truth, the Bible is a story. It is the story of Jesus.
Regretfully, I observe few people using the Bible primarily this way.
For many of us personally, and sadly from many of our pulpits, the Bible is not treated as a cohesive story but as a grab bag for inspiration. The grand, sweeping story of a cosmic love spurned, a King revealed, and a relationship restored in unfathomable detail has been reduced to a condiment.
I recently heard a pastor speak to his congregation about how they should persevere in pursuing their goals. He said they have to keep their eyes on the goal (said goal was never defined and is assumed to be relative) – believing they can achieve it.
To give weight to his words, the pastor stamped them with bible ink. “After all,” he said, “As Paul says in Colossians, ‘Let us run with endurance the race set before us.’”
Heads nodded. Point made.
So what’s wrong with that?
First of all, the quote is not from Colossians, it’s from Hebrews (and Paul’s authorship is debatable). Second, this betrays a view of Scripture that has permeated Christian culture to the degree that it largely goes unquestioned.
This view of Scripture sees the Bible not as a whole unit, but as a long list of proverbs. In essence, a proverb is a short saying that carries some degree of wisdom or a principle that speaks into life.
In this view, the New Testament gives us Jesus-proverbs where He, or some random disciple, gives us a word of encouragement for living. We abide by these statements or idioms as a means to follow Jesus into the life He has planned for us (or that we have planned for us).
The Old Testament is harder as a lot of its sentences are weird and about killing bulls. It is easier, we find, just to pull a quote from the Psalms, Proverbs (that’s a lay-up) or a quick saying we like from God.
Once we have tacked one of these proverbs or idioms on to our personal thought or strategy, we have stamped it with the God-stamp. God said it. It must be true.
The problem with treating the Scriptures as a treasure trove of removable quotes is that we have completely divorced these words from their meaning. Words divorced from meaning can be lethal.
Now you may be asking:
Does it really matter who said what to whom, why, or which book it’s in?
You’re just being legalistic and bookish.
It’s all the Bible, right?
Yes and no.
Question: what if I took a quote from Hitler’s Mein Kampf and used it in a love letter to my wife? Something like, “With you, my love, I have seen that ‘heaven itself can be presented to the people.’”
It seems lofty. It sounds good.
In reality, it’s a quote about using mind-washing propaganda to justify murdering Jews. That matters.
I am certainly not saying that quoting Scripture out of context is the same as committing genocide, but it should at least give us cause to consider the way we use words – particularly words of Scripture.
In applying Scripture and hearing it applied, do we understand the meaning beyond the words? Do we know the context enough to know not just the words, but why they are important – why they speak not specifically to our situation, but to the greater Gospel narrative as a whole?
In truth, each sentence of the Bible is part of a greater thought that may be telling a historical account or introducing the Law to new Gentile converts. The difference matters.
The danger with treating the Bible like a grab bag of proverbs is that God did not give us the Bible as a grab bag of proverbs. He gave it to us as letters, histories, poems and warnings because the message of God in the Gospel is greater than personal encouragement. The Gospel is greater than really trying to lose weight or manage a busy calendar. If that weren’t the case, then a bunch of quips about how “You can do it!” would suffice.
But “You can do it!” is not the Gospel.
Whether we take the Bible one verse at a time or one book at a time, we must know why the words we are reading matter. They matter because they point to the big story of God – the Gospel. They point to Jesus. If we use them to point to any other thing, we have made that thing an idol.
Using the words of the Bible to point to ourselves, our personal pursuits or even three happy hops to a better marriage or financial portfolio may seem harmless, but to do so ultimately strips the Bible’s words of their power and assigns them a much weaker purpose. It bends the words of God to serve the message of man.
The next time you read or hear a portion of Scripture, instead of asking what it means to you and your front-burner checklist, consider what it means in light of the Gospel.
Seek out the context of the verse and why it is important in the letter, or writing, it comes from. Seek the story the words are telling.
It will lead you to a much greater story. It will connect you to a much greater power.
It will lead you to THE story, THE way, THE truth, and THE life.
It will lead you to behold the Gospel and the surpassing beauty of Jesus Christ.
It will lead you to God through His word. Words can serve no higher purpose.
by Ryan Smith | Jul 13, 2017
A man in his mid-80s has retired from the pastorate in the upper northwest part of the United States. He’s lived a quiet life, he would tell you, preferring the quiet solitude of his lakeside home to the hustle and bustle of today’s social landscape.
He’s never been on the radio. He doesn’t headline conferences as a plenary speaker. In fact, aside from his introspective and imaginative writings on God, the Bible and other spiritual topics, Eugene Peterson likely never would have entered the public view.
It’s also not entirely uncommon for Peterson’s lake house to be visited by the likes of U2’s Bono. His translation of the Greek and Hebrew texts into modern day vernacular (delivered in The Message) graces countless bookshelves. His books are endorsed by such high-profile evangelical voices as Russell Moore and J.I. Packer.
Despite his influence, and aside from the pastoral narrative of his books, not much is known about Peterson. This is by design. He is a quiet man, a humble man, a man unattached.
// Merritt’s track record on the SSM issue
Jonathan Merritt is a controversial reporter with a large platform. Having grown out of orthodoxy, Merritt is a blogger, speaker and writer who has recently taken aim at virtually every aspect of orthodox Christianity and the Bible.
Merritt seems to revel in opportunities to elevate a voice from the Christian culture that chooses to deviate from the road of historical Christianity and biblical authority (i.e. Rob Bell, Jen Hatmaker).
Jonathan Merritt is also an admirer of Eugene Peterson. Merritt recently posted an article on the website Religion News Service in which he interviewed the retired pastor.
Under the alleged purpose of curiosity about legacy and faith, Merritt took the opportunity to out Peterson on a topic in which Peterson seemed to have little interest or thought.
Such a small pebble, however, has created tremendous waves.
Merritt asks, “If you were pastoring today and a gay couple in your church who were Christians of good faith asked you to perform their same-sex wedding ceremony, is that something you would do?”
Peterson’s reply: Yes.
// Peterson retracts and clarifies
Peterson has since retracted this comment and made clarification of his views.
However, in the article as presented, this question follows a string of anecdotes regarding Peterson’s pastoral experience with professing gay and lesbian Christians in his past.
“They didn’t make a big deal about it,” Peterson said. “I’d go and visit them, and it never came up for them. They just assumed that they were as Christian as everybody else in the church.”
Regarding the topic in his congregation, Peterson simply states, “we (never) really made a big deal out of it.” He goes on to detail how their church hired a music director who professed to be gay. “Nobody made any questions about it. And he was a really good musician.”
Peterson concludes, “I wouldn’t have said this 20 years ago, but now I know a lot of people who are gay and lesbian, and they seem to have as good a spiritual life as I do. I think that kind of debate about lesbians and gays might be over.”
Unfortunately, as voices on every side of the discussion began to loudly express, the debate is far from over.
// Personal take
I like Eugene Peterson. I have found his written works to be thought-provoking, soul-nourishing and filled with biblical wisdom and insight. When I read the article yesterday morning, I was both forlorn and yet somehow not surprised.
To be fair, Peterson did not affirm the embracing of a homosexual lifestyle by these individuals, nor did he seem to presume the gravity of the questions being asked.
Most of his comments just as easily could have been taken to affirm the church’s need to embrace those who wrestle with same-sex attraction rather than treating them like they have some greater level of sin or struggle than the rest of us in a fallen world.
Like any good pastor would, he talked about embracing those who are open about same-sex attraction in the same way he would talk about embracing the man who wrestles with finding his identity in work or materialism apart from identity in Christ.
However, Merritt was quick to point to other associations and ambiguities regarding Peterson in order to make his case for yet another evangelical leader choosing to leave the Bible’s teaching on marriage and sexuality in favor of the culture’s shifting tide.
Peterson is a member of the PCUSA (Presbyterian Church of the United States of America), which is known for its liberal leaning regarding social and doctrinal issues.
As noted in Merritt’s exposé, The Message does not use the words “homosexual” or “homosexuality” even in passages where the terminology is explicit (1 Cor. 6:9, 1 Tim. 1:10). To be fair, however, neither does the King James Version.
It is clear Peterson does believe in sexual right and wrong. That’s a true and good thing. But what has not been clear is whether or not Peterson reveres the Bible as the authority over sexuality as much as he does other matters.
This question blew up across multiple platforms as shots rang out from vocal leaders in the LBGTQ and Christian evangelical communities. Peterson’s entire orthodoxy, writings and impact were placed in the dock for questioning, and the demands were rapid-fire.
Only a little more than 24 hours after Merritt’s article hit the interwebs, Peterson posted a clarification of his views regarding biblical marriage.
“I affirm a biblical view of marriage: one man to one woman. I affirm a biblical view of everything… When put on the spot by this particular interviewer, I said yes in the moment. But on further reflection and prayer, I would like to retract that. That’s not something I would do out of respect to the congregation, the larger church body, and the historic biblical Christian view and teaching on marriage. That said, I would still love such a couple as their pastor. They’d be welcome at my table, along with everybody else.”
// What now?
So was Peterson merely duped by the agenda of Jonathan Merritt and those like him who seek to tear down biblical authority – even in the name of Christianity?
We do not know.
What is more revealing than Merritt’s agenda, however, is Peterson’s lack of clarity and vocal affirmation of the Bible’s authority in matters of culture.
Why has Eugene Peterson faithfully served the church for decades, yet his view on biblical sexuality could not be affirmed or disaffirmed even by the most insatiable critics rifling through decades of material? Why would Peterson even need further reflection and prayer on the topic? Shouldn’t this already be decided in his mind?
To a degree, Peterson’s lack of clarity on sexual issues is more likely a result of his time than his theology. In light of his other writings and contributions, I am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. He has never sought social battles and has largely served in a time in which sexual questions were either not asked or of little concern.
Unfortunately, what the fallout from Merritt’s article explicitly shows us is that none of us are exempt from the sexual revolution and its cultural whirlwind. The walls of culture, comfort and community – even ignorance – that many have tried to safely hide behind have been shown to be built of straw.
// Be prepared, be equipped
As Christians in the age of sexual idolatry, we must ask ourselves some questions.
Is your church ready for the discussion on homosexuality and biblical marriage? Is your pastor?
Do you know what the Bible says about sex and sexuality? Would you be able to articulate biblical sexual morality and its importance in the grand scheme of salvation history? Can you explain to someone without hesitation why sexuality is distinctly more tied to the glory of God than the feelings of man?
What the past few days have shown us is that we must always be ready to give an account for biblical orthodoxy. In the plea for truth and joy found in biblical fidelity, if our voices are silent or uneasy, they may as well be shouting against us.
Our lack of biblical doctrine is easily exposed with far-reaching consequences.
Yet we should also take a cue from Peterson that our love for all people (regardless of sexuality) should be what defines the way we treat, interact with and value others in light of the Imago Dei (Image of God).
In our day and age, it is our duty as Christians to know the truth concerning the Bible’s words on sexuality. We must speak that truth in love. But we must also be ready. If the wolves in modern Christian culture can sink their teeth into an 84-year-old retired pastor, what makes us think we will be spared?
“…do not fear their intimidation, and do not be troubled, but sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence; and keep a good conscience so that in the thing in which you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ will be put to shame” (1 Pet. 3:14-16).
by Ryan Smith | Jun 15, 2017
Yet another annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention has come and gone and with it, another highly controversial fissure threatened to fracture the community.
The controversy centered on the highly personal and deeply ingrained topic of racism.
The storm rose quickly. Words of anger, warning, and concern thundered and flashed across news feeds from a variety of sources – and rightly so.
A resolution and opportunity for the convention to decry an issue that has smeared not only the SBC’s past, but is at the cultural forefront of a hateful and despicable group of people who take the name of Christ in vain (the self-labeled “Alt-Right”) was not put before the convention for affirmation.
For many in the convention, and the media, these clouds arose as a simple here we go again.
Reporters raised their axes before the SBC’s roots and many began to react harshly with veiled threats of leaving the denomination or labeling it as a dead entity.
Mistakes were made. People were hurt.
Then something happened.
In less than 24 hours, the resolution was taken up and adjusted to wield the most pointed and defiant language against the evil of racism and white nationalism. It was then unanimously passed by around 5000 brothers and sisters across racial boundaries resulting in a burst of ovation and applause.
This was a moment of both struggle and strength for the SBC. In this moment we saw both the difficulty of fallen men bonding together for a common goal in a fallen world and the glory of reconciliation through Christ by the Spirit of God.
What makes me proud today to be a part of the SBC is not that we are the biggest or brightest organization on earth (we aren’t). It’s not even that we always get things right (we don’t).
As Christians, we are professing to be broken people in need of a Savior who have found the blood of Jesus to cover our sins. We are a people united not by musical style, geographic locale, or a human authority that tells us what to think or believe.
We are a people united by the fact that in His grace, we know God is God and we are not – yet we strive to faithfully and obediently follow His Word in His power for His glory.
The events of this year’s SBC bear that out well.
In Psalm 133, David extolls, “Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!” If you have been in the church for long, however, you know unity is not the default position. We do not land on unity by simply allowing ourselves to be driven by the current. We must fight for it.
And so it has been in the church from the beginning. From Euodia and Syntyche in Philippi (Phil. 4:2), to the apostles Paul and Peter in Antioch (Gal. 2:11), to the call for humility and unity to the church in Thessalonica (1 Thess. 5:11-28), the nature of our calling in Christ to display the Gospel as one body has transcended even the most personal or heated of fractures.
Was anything accomplished by the passage of this resolution on behalf of the Southern Baptist Convention to label racism in all forms as evil and anti-gospel?
We will see.
It is not the wording of resolutions or press releases that truly matters in our churches; it is the living out of this truth that we who affirm the Gospel of Jesus Christ affirm our call to live out the Gospel by seeking racial equality, justice and brotherhood.
Time will tell whether this resolution is truly resolved in our hearts or simply passed in our minutes.
Will there be mistakes? Yes. Will people be hurt by word and deed? Yes. But what I again hope to see in any and all of these situations is the same thing we saw displayed this year in Phoenix: forgiveness, reconciliation and unity for the sake of the Gospel.
It is no surprise this year’s situation caught headlines in national media such as CNN, the Washington Post and a host of other agencies documenting the actions of Southern Baptists from a distance. This can be dangerous, and I admit I scrolled through my Twitter feed today with hesitation.
What caught my eye in these articles, however, was not the headlines or discourse on either side, but the images used to portray the events. Most of the publications accompanied their headlines with a picture of (mostly white) people with microphones singing songs with hands raised and suit jackets unwrinkled.
It was the prototypical image the world thinks of when they think of Southern Baptists.
The picture that speaks volumes to me, however, and I believe most accurately displays what we should hope to be known for in the SBC, was not lit by stage lights or accompanied by the Gettys.
It is a picture of Dwight McKissic (author of the original resolution) who stands as a tall, strong, well-dressed African American man close to Barrett Duke (chair of the resolutions committee), a shorter white-haired gentleman in a baggy suit. They stand face to face not on a podium – not for a press opportunity – but as brothers in Christ who stand at the center of a great wound while Duke says, “I apologize, I genuinely apologize,” and receives the forgiveness of his brother.
Let this be our identifier as Christians, as well as brothers and sisters, united together in cooperation and purpose for the sake of the glory of God.
“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:21).
by Ryan Smith | Jun 13, 2017
During my sophomore year of college, many moons ago, I spent two months fasting. It was not a fast for my stomach, but for my ears – and ultimately my soul.
As a good Christian young man, I had cast aside all worldly possessions and adopted the sights, sounds and smells of what many have deemed “The Christian Bubble.”
You know the bubble. It is the orb Christians live in when they don’t want to get their hands dirtied by the world. It is a safe house where the music is only from a Christian label, the books are only from Christian bookstores, and we drink Spirit Cola™ instead of Sprite Cola.
I’m not saying these things are bad; they are simply what circumferences the bubble. It feels good. It feels clean. It is where we let our little light shine, but try to keep it low so we won’t attract flies.
It was on that certain day in college I sat listening to my exclusively Christian CDs and was struck by a thought: I enjoy music. I enjoy music that feeds me. I enjoy music that affirms my beliefs. I enjoy music for me.
These are good things. But what was it doing to help me accomplish the mission of God for the glory of God? If I sat around and listened to people sing about being the hands and feet of God, washing it down with some Spirit Cola™, and then never went out to actually be the hands and feet of God to a world that was perishing, what good was it?
But where would I find this world? In the bubble? There are no professing non-Christians in the bubble. That’s why we have the bubble.
So there must be something outside the bubble, I thought. It was the world I professed to have a call to reach. It was the world I knew nothing about. The world inside my headphones was clean. It was comfortable. I could filter out all the cries for help from a drowning world as long as my headphones were on.
It was on that day many years ago I decided to take my headphones off.
I prayed to God – devoting my ears and heart to Him. I decided to fast for a few months from the lyrical nourishment that truly fed me and take a walk outside the bubble to see what the world sounded like.
In God’s providence, the very first song I heard on “secular” radio was by a band called XTC. The song was called “Dear God.” These are the closing lyrics:
“Dear God, don’t know if you notice but your name is on a lot of quotes in this book and us crazy humans wrote it, you should take a look. And all the people that you made in your image still believing that junk is true. Well I know it ain’t, and so do you. Dear God, I can’t believe in, I don’t believe. I won’t believe in heaven or hell, no saints, no sinners, no devil as well, no pearly gates, no thorny crown, you’re always letting us humans down. The wars you bring, the babes you drown, those lost at sea and never found, and it’s the same the whole world ‘round. The hurt I see helps to compound that Father, Son and Holy Ghost is just somebody’s unholy hoax and if you’re up there, you’ll perceive that my heart’s here upon my sleeve. If there’s one thing I don’t believe in it’s you,
Dear God.”
I had never heard that in the bubble. The bubble spends conscious time trying to keep songs and artists like this out.
It brought me to tears. In large part, this was because on my wall hung a quote that said, “Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God.”
There was an entire world I was called to go to and share Jesus. I had missed this world because I was too busy listening to songs about why I should go to it and share Jesus.
It is a world that breaks the heart of God.
It is a world whose voices shake the streets, yet often fall mute in the church.
This brings me to the question: How now shall we listen?
First, I should say I am here discussing the how of our ears, not the what. The what is a worthy discussion requiring much biblical wisdom, accountability and a much longer blog than this one. We should never use our freedom or mission as a license to sin.
My assertion here is that it is perhaps much more beneficial to listen to whatever music we listen to through a lens of theology rather than a label on an album or call letters on a radio station.
When asked what kind of music he likes, U2’s Bono once said, “Only two kinds of music interest me: music from people running to God, and from people running from God.” I think he makes an interesting observation. The Bible is filled with examples of both. Art is filled with examples of both. I can converse and have gospel-conversations with one stream of those people. What about the other?
That is what I learned from my two-month fast. Since then, I have been challenged and spurred to share and be more aware of the depravity around me through songs that would never be heard on Christian radio. They are neither positive nor encouraging. Instead of surrounding myself only with voices that sooth and agree, I’ve been trying to listen to the voices in songs, books, twitter, etc. that display the world around me – not just my world. I’ve been trying to listen theologically.
Listening theologically to music (or reading, watching, etc.) does not mean you have to open yourself up to things you know will be harmful to you. That would be unwise and unbiblical. But it does mean you aren’t afraid to hear from people who disagree with you or don’t know the truth of the Gospel.
Listening theologically holds each lyric (chapter, tweet, scene, etc.) up to Scripture to discern whether it is truthful or not. It also uses these devices to identify avenues for the Gospel or allow our hearts to be broken with the things that break God’s heart. It spurs us to see the world, including our own lives, not through the lens of labels but the Bible. It even keeps us sharp in testing professing prophets with catchy hooks who sing about God but miss His character and mission entirely.
I would not urge everyone to take a fast from “Christian” music or even to completely burst the Christian bubble. What I would encourage, however, is for us to consider not just what enters our ears but ultimately the filter through which we hear it.
Don’t approach your media with only the question, “What would Jesus listen to,” but also with the question, “How would Jesus listen to it?”
I think we will be surprised by what we learn from voices on all sides by listening intentionally and theologically to the world around us.