Author: Teddy Ray

A third way in the church’s ethics debates

Our world seems to have lost the ability to understand nuance. Rather than finding a balance between two important points, we tend to pick one side and try to pummel the other into submission. Watch the debates about any political issue, and you’ll quickly see how much both sides ignore each other while they talk shout past each other.

Sadly, we see much of the same in the church today. The same issues keep coming up, and the same points keep getting made, but all to little effect. I’d like to suggest that we can divide the church in most of today’s ethical debates with one simple line. I’ll call it the grace-and-truth line.

The Grace-and-Truth Line

Our grace-and-truth line is causing all sorts of silly fractures in the church. One side talks a lot about living like Jesus, the other talks a lot about believing the Bible. One side focuses on God’s love, the other on God’s holiness and justice.

Grace people fear legalists and Pharisees who force people to live by their own artificial rules. Truth people fear universalists and antinomians who disregard God’s moral law.

In ethics debates, the grace people usually are optimistic about humanity. They receive everyone as good people, acceptable as they are––everyone except, perhaps, the truth people. The truth people usually are pessimistic about humanity. They generally seem to view everyone as sinners in need of reform––everyone except, perhaps, themselves.*

You may find my black-and-white depictions unfair—guilty of the very thing I’ve said is our problem. Many people operate somewhere toward the center of these. Actually, we all suppose that we are right at the center of any tension like this, striking the perfect balance. But even for those who aren’t fully black or white in the balance, it’s worth asking ourselves if we’re over-representing one side and neglecting the other.

How Tony Campolo tries to navigate grace and truth

Tony Campolo tells a moving and heart-breaking story about his conversation with a mother whose gay son committed suicide. He makes a strong point. The phrase “hate the sin, love the sinner” has been abused to condemn people’s actions from a distance. But while it’s easy to lob stones at sin from afar, it’s difficult to love people from that distance. As a result, many Christians’ hatred of sin has prevented them from coming near enough to “love the sinner.” Remove that, and the phrase simply becomes “hate the sin.” In fact, it begins to appear like, “hate the sin, hate the sinner.” All truth, no grace.

Campolo says that we should love the sinner and hate our own sin. Whenever we have gotten rid of the sin in our own life, then we can begin talking about the sin in our brother’s or sister’s life. Though he doesn’t say it, I get the impression that Campolo really means to say that we’ll always have our own sin to deal with first, so we should never talk about someone else’s.

Campolo’s motto is about grace for others, truth for ourselves. That’s not a bad corrective for those of us who are quick to give ourselves grace (every mistake has a good excuse) and to apply truth to others (they’ve got to do better).

Is Campolo’s solution sufficient? I don’t believe so. In fact, I think “Love the sinner; hate your own sin” is no better than the original, nor is it more biblical. In some ways, it’s less. Let’s look at another option.

Maybe the problem is that we believe one line divides grace and truth. What if, instead, we could be full of both?
Maybe the problem is that we believe one line divides grace and truth. What if, instead, we could be full of both?

Full of grace and truth

John’s gospel introduces Jesus by saying that he came to the world “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Jesus offers grace to a woman whom the people are ready to condemn: “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Then he offers truth to her as a woman who needs to repent: “Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:2-11).

Jesus acquits the woman from the people’s condemnation, then condemns her actions and tells her to change. Could he have neglected either and been more loving? Or do we find his perfect love only at the intersection of full grace and full truth?

The problem with the truth-teller isn’t that he chastises people about their sin, but that he often doesn’t love those he chastises. His offer of grace is insincere, or lacking entirely. He suggests that he might give grace and hospitality once a person will accept the truth, but surely not before.

The problem with the grace-bearer is that, wishing to defend the sacred worth of the person, she’ll often defend his indefensible actions, as well.* Endorsing another person’s wickedness and self-destruction is surely one of the most hateful things humanity has ever tried to pass off as love.

On loving people and hating sin 

No, Jesus never said, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” But he did say, “there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10). And James wrote, “Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins” (James 5:20).

I’d like to ask Tony Campolo how he expects us to ever turn a sinner from the error of his way if we’re never supposed to bring it up. I’d like to ask him why I shouldn’t hate anything that’s leading someone toward death.

A beloved friend of mine has cancer. I hate that cancer. I hate all cancer from a distance, but I particularly hate his cancer, because it’s trying to kill him. If I hated no one’s cancer but my own, what a selfish person I would be!

Even more, then, I hate sin. I hate all sin from a distance, but I particularly hate the sin of those I love, because it’s trying to kill them. I hate my own sin for the same reason. If we don’t hate our own sin, we’re fools, running toward destruction, even while we claim to be warning others away from it. But hating my own sin doesn’t prevent me from hating others’ sin as well.

The problem isn’t hatred of sin. The problem comes when our hatred of sin leads us to scorn sinners instead of embracing them. When we lack the grace to grieve for sinners, take compassion on them, and pray for them, we lack the love of Jesus.

Similarly, the problem with the other side isn’t love for sinners. The problem comes with our acceptance of their sinfulness. When we deny sinners the truth about their actions––that they need to seek treatment and healing––we lack the love of Jesus.

Can sinners who need to repent still be of sacred worth?

The problem for all of us is that we believe it’s impossible to tell someone she is of sacred worth and that her actions are sinful and require repentance. Over and over, I’ve watched Christian leaders claim that these two statements contradict each other, or at least create an ambiguity. We must choose––deny the sin or deny the sinner.

The miracle of God’s love is that he makes both claims at once. In our sinfulness––not after––we are of sacred worth. At the same time, God calls us out of our sinfulness into a repentant and righteous life before God. By his grace, he empowers us to repent and live holy lives.

Full of grace. Full of truth. Compromise on neither.

Is “full of grace and truth” our best way to approach ethics? Share your own thoughts in the comments or hit a share button below to ask for others’ opinions.

* In all my references to optimist and pessimist, I’m heavily indebted to G. K. Chesterton, whose language I’m barely modifying from pages 61-62 of Orthodoxy.

Review and Resolve

I know a lot of people who are against New Year’s resolutions. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing immediately. No need to wait for a new year.”

But you probably don’t take a large-scale evaluation of your life on a daily basis. You don’t stop every day and think through the past year of your life. You’d be neurotic if you did. But there would also be a problem if you never stopped and reviewed your life on a bigger scale.

New Year’s is nice because it provides a natural prompt to do that. You’re more likely today to think about the past year of your life. What you regret, what you celebrate, what you’ll remember. And after that, you’re also more likely to think about how you want to do anything differently in 2014.

So if you haven’t already, why don’t you quickly take stock of the past year. What did you learn? What will you remember? What do you wish you had done better or differently?

And why don’t you also make some resolutions for yourself in 2014. If you don’t want to tell anyone you made a resolution, fine… but resolve to do something. Some of the themes that have come most consistently for me throughout 2013: show more gratitude, read lots of books, wake up early and get your best work done before noon, commit to small, daily practices that will make their effect over the long-term. All of those would need more specificity — how will you do it, exactly — but they’re all worthy goals for a new year.

The best 8 books I read this year*

I have eight categories in my reading rotation (okay, nine if you count my “wild card” category). Here’s the best book I read in each category this year.

onwritingLiterature

Usually, my reading in this category is fiction novels. But the best in the bunch this year was Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. I’m not a fan of horror books, so I don’t read much Stephen King. This book shows his brilliance as a writer. It was so enjoyable to read that I read it like you might read one of his thrillers –– sneaking a few lines at stop lights. The second half of the book is King’s advice to make good writers out of merely competent ones. If you aspire to be a good writer, you’ll benefit from this.

Scripture-and-the-Authority-of-GodBible

Scripture and the Authority of God: How to Read the Bible by N. T. Wright was the most helpful book I read about the Bible this year. I get a lot of questions from people about how to read the Bible, how to understand seeming contradictions, etc. I’ve referenced this book often in those discussions. Wright’s “five-act hermeneutic” has been especially helpful for people who are struggling to understand the difference between how we read the Old and New Testaments.

sabbathPhilosophy, Psychology, and Other Religions

Abraham Joshua Heschel’s little book The Sabbath changed my life. My family changed our approach to time as a response, and it has been one of the best things to happen to us. I usually highlight something every few pages in a book. In this one, I was choosing what not to highlight so that it wouldn’t all blend together. One quote to give you a taste: “We cannot solve the problem of time through the conquest of space, through either pyramids or fame. We can only solve the problem of time through sanctification of time. To men alone time is elusive; to men with God time is eternity in disguise.”

accompanyPractical Theology

After a couple of deaths that were especially hard on me this year, I re-read Thomas G. Long’s Accompany Them with Singing: The Christian Funeral. This book offers a rich theology of death, dying and the afterlife that strikes against a lot of our modern treatments –– even in the Church, or perhaps especially in the Church. With this, Long shows us a way to approach funerals that’s different from what we typically see. I think I’ll forever grieve, mourn, and celebrate more deeply in the face of death because of this book. The book has also shaped how I preside over funerals. With that, I especially recommend it to pastors, but recommend it also for anyone trying to deal with death and dying.

discipleshipDoctrinal Theology

I re-read Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Discipleship this year, this time the new (and improved, in my opinion) translation by Fortress Press. If nothing else, read his opening chapter. It’s one of the best chapters ever written. Bonhoeffer’s call to discipleship calls at once for entire obedience to Jesus and entire trust in him, leaving no room for faith without works, nor for works without faith. His depiction of the visible church-community is compelling and beautiful. Bonhoeffer achieves what I think Christ’s call intends –– an invitation to discipleship that demands everything of us and yet remains a light yoke, providing refreshment and peace for our souls.

orthodoxyGeneral Christianity –– History and Special Subjects

Orthodoxy by G. K. Chesterton (free on Kindle!) was my favorite. An online reviewer may have said it best: “This book sends your head up into the clouds while driving your feet deep into the earth. It spins you dizzier than you’ve ever been, yet makes you walk straighter than you’ve ever walked.” The book is a sort of philosophy of religion, but rather than taking on a textbook form, it reads like Lewis Carroll or Oscar Wilde. Chesterton’s turns of phrase are witty and delightful, his reasoning so roundabout that at times you have no idea where you’re going or why it matters, but if you hang with him, he makes some brilliant points.

theology of the bodyDenominational Works

Most of my reading in this category tends to be Wesleyan and Methodist. But the best this year was Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body by Pope John Paul II. This magisterial work was the defining theological contribution of John Paul II. I went to it when I was trying to work through a theology of sexuality and realized how impoverished and superficial most Protestant theologies are on this subject. For some of the reflections that came out of that study, see my posts “Sexuality and Webbed Theology” and “Sexuality and Theology — A running start.”

on writing wellOther

This category is for all the miscellaneous things that don’t fit above. On Writing Well: An Informal Guide to Writing Nonfiction by William Zinsser gets the prize here, which now makes for two writing books in this list. As they should be, people who write books about writing are great writers. That makes them enjoyable and easy to read. Even if I never wanted to write anything, I think I would have enjoyed this book. And it probably would have made me want to write.

Honorable mention in the “other” category goes to two self-help books — 1-2-3 Magic: Effective Discipline for Children 2-12 by Thomas Phelan and Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity by David Allen. These respectively helped me improve my parenting and my workflow. (See a whole post on the workflow here.)

For the comments: what was the best book you read this year?

* Okay, technically this isn’t the best eight books I read, but the best book in each of eight categories. That title didn’t have the same ring, though.

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