So, I really, really don’t want to put an old Facebook post on a blog that is ostensibly for other, more experienced, people’s writing. I don’t want to repost it almost as much as I didn’t want to post it the first time; I knew that a number of unbelieving friends and relatives were going to see it, and you would have to know those friends and relatives to truly understand how horrifying this stunt was to me. It’s one thing to fumble for the right words in front of an understanding audience. It’s another to know exactly how someone is going to misunderstand (and read into) something, even if you say it perfectly —which, of course, you never do— and then still have to say it.
But I’m posting it now because I feel like it’s important to remember that it’s our personal experience, what we’ve learned for ourselves, that other people learn from best. It’s not what we ‘know,’ but our testimony and confession that gives life. If we had a minute-by-minute recording of Jesus’ entire ministry, I don’t think that it would be any better than the gospels we have, because the authors were telling people what they’d already been told, they were teaching as they’d been taught. They preached, but they were also leading by example, in the same way that Jesus led them by example.
My point is: people make mistakes. Some of us don’t write well. Others don’t talk well, and we always seem to say exactly the opposite of what we mean to. Sometimes we’re tired, and we’re vulnerable to anyone who wants to call us on a technical. Sometimes we’re not walking in the Spirit. Sometimes we’re just flat-out sinning.* God knows all of that… and yet he still uses us to speak to people.
It’s not always obvious how; sometimes we end up at the right time and place to save someone from drowning, and other times we’re not even sure if what we had to say mattered at all. But in either case we end up being faced with a choice, where we get to decide what we care about more, the beat-up nobody on the side of the road, or our reputation and where we thought we were headed.
So my testimony on the subject is: it doesn’t matter if it seems arbitrary and pointless. It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand why. It doesn’t matter if you look stupid; it’s the foolishness of preaching that encourages, and helps, and saves:
It’s difficult enough to speak frankly in person — as soon as you open your mouth, people are already hearing a dozen superficially-similar speeches that have ‘all been made before,’ and are busy formulating a reply, so as a result nothing ever really gets said — and it’s several times worse on the internet.
So most of the time, on most subjects, I give it up as a lost cause and return to my book. A lot of sensible people do this. If someone doesn’t want to hear anything but their own echo, why bother? Why go through that generally exhausting, sometimes embarrassing, but always seemingly-futile process?
Unfortunately, it seems that I have zero scriptural support for this view (Pro 26:4 doesn’t count, unfortunately). Sure, I can avoid the really dumb discussions about whether vaccines give Democrats cases of global-warming (probably a good idea), and only occasionally try to help out people even more ignorant than I am, but:
“I am a debtor [under obligation], both to Greeks and to foreigners, both to wise and to thoughtless,” to preach the gospel “…for I am not ashamed of the good news of the Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation to every one who is believing…”
Avoiding this particular powder keg is just a fancy way of being ashamed of the gospel of Christ, which is, in turn, a kind of refusal to ‘share in the sufferings of Christ’ (somewhere in 2 Tim 1). (Also, I think the only other major way that that word “ashamed” is really used in the New Testament is when Jesus explains that he’ll be ashamed of “whoever is ashamed of me and my words.” That’s pretty stark.)
Whether I like it or not, God is just naturally ‘a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense.’ Though obviously, the truth is not a mallet to hit people over the head with. We’re still obligated is to ‘speak the truth in love.’ My point is that God doesn’t need a PR person. It’s not my job to “soften the blow.” (See: Jeremiah 23:29)
I know this sounds like some sort of absurd manifesto, but it’s really not. Sooner or later, merely human creeds outlive their usefulness, words that aren’t “the Word” can’t withstand the pressures we put on them. All I’m doing is the only thing that we can do when we see that we’ve fallen short somehow: admit we’ve screwed up (sometimes in an excruciatingly public manner), reject our own way, go back to where we went wrong, and find out what God has to say.
Also, I really hate the writing on this, which is what always happens when I try to be straightforward and, ugh, honest with people. It comes straight up like a little honesty-hairball. But I’m done complaining. I promise.
*Probably a good idea to stop that, if you’re aware of it.
Mum's devotional 