Strength in Unity

One of the great ironies of the connected world is that our connections make it easier to split us apart. The internet, which many wide-eyed digital optimists thought would lead to a more perfect, democratic world, has also led to a world in which our divisions can be exploited.

That exploitation has taken many forms in the recent past, but the most famous example of late is Russian meddling in the 2016 presidential election. That hacking, and Russia’s previous meddling in Estonia’s government, was the subject of a recent episode of The Weekly, a new show from the New York Times.

The show is a behind-the-scenes look at a big story at the Times. You follow the journalist along as they interview long-forgotten witnesses, scribble notes in their Moleskin notebooks, and review documents and footage. (That might sound boring to you, but it’s like candy to me.)

In the episode titled “The Blueprint,” we follow reporter Matt Apuzzo, who has been digging into Russian hacking for the Times. He and his colleagues have a huge spreadsheet that lays out the timeline for everything they know. The first entry in the spreadsheet piqued Apuzzo’s interest. It was about Russian hacking in Estonia.

Apuzzo starts following the lead and learns that Russia launched a cyberattack on Estonia in 2007 that closely mirrored what they were accused of doing in the U.S. in and around 2016. But why did the Kremlin try to divide these two countries?

Apuzzo learns that Russia didn’t set out to divide the countries but to exploit the divisions already present.

His conclusion hangs in the air as the show fades out: “The more divided a country is, the more vulnerable it becomes. It’s not about the last attack; it’s about the next one.”

His words remind me of Jesus’ line, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” A “house” can be a country, a home, a church, or a relationship. In each of these, division is a liability. The more we pull back into our own factions or tribes, the more vulnerable we are to being exploited at the point of those disagreements.

“In both Estonia and America, the Kremlin had plenty of raw material to work with,” says Apuzzo. In Estonia, Russia exploited the history of its own occupation of the small European state in earlier decades and the effects it’s had on Estonians. “In the US, that means guns, immigration, and especially race.”

Jesus, knowing the destructive power of disunity, prayed specifically for oneness — for unity — in his last prayer before his execution. He prayed, “that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me,” (John 17:21).

Unity is strength; division, weakness.

The question for us today is what divisions exist in our churches, homes, schools, or organizations? Where might the devil seek to stoke the fire of our latent divisions and flame them into flames?

If you resent your spouse, reconcile with them. If you are spreading gossip in your church, stop and repent. If you are playing favorites at work, quit and ask forgiveness.

If you love your family, your church, your institution, pursue unity. Fight for it. Seek after it. Don’t stop until you have it, or it might not be around long enough to save.

When Work Becomes an Idol

Work used to be something about you, not something that defines you.

Now, we ask someone what they do as soon as we learn their name. When we ask each other how we’re doing, the answer is almost always, “Busy!”

We seek jobs with lots of vacation, but most of it goes unused. When we do take vacations, we bring work with us. We put in 50 or more hours a week, and sometimes add a side-hustle or two.

This is the ceaseless American work ethic, or what some are calling workism: “the belief that work is not only necessary to economic production, but also the centerpiece of one’s identity and life’s purpose; and the belief that any policy to promote human welfare must always encourage more work.”

How did we get here?

Read the rest of my article at RELEVANT Magazine

The Good Kind of Fear

A friend of mine did time in the ’80s. He was awaiting his transfer from a county jail to prison when an older man he admired said to him, “You’re about to go to prison. If you want to survive, you’re going to have to earn respect. Here’s how you earn it: be honest, work hard, and never complain. If you do that, you can earn respect.”

While he was incarcerated, my friend did exactly what the man said. Before long, he was earning respect from others. But he still had insecurities.

In fact, the more my friend worked at being respected, the more he worried about what everyone thought of him. Would he make a mistake that ruined the respect others had for him? Would he become a target? Worrying about these things filled his days with anxiety.

Respect is often based on fear. If you’re a fan of a professional football team that isn’t the Patriots, you respect Tom Brady when your team is down by three, there are only two minutes left, and the Patriots have the ball. Even if you don’t like the Patriots, you respect their ability to dominate on the field.

More seriously, there may be people on your unit that no one messes with, not because they are well-liked, but because they know how to intimidate—or worse.

But is that the only way to do time? Watching your back and earning or showing respect based out of fear?

Respecting God—a Healthy Fear

The Bible tells us there’s a better way. Matthew 10:28 says, “Don’t be afraid of those who want to kill your body; they cannot touch your soul. Fear only God, who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”

So, are you just supposed to cower before God instead, hoping a lightning bolt isn’t headed your way?

No. The Bible talks about different kinds of fear. There’s the kind you usually think of—the fear you experience when a threatening person or situation confronts you. It’s fear that makes you comply with someone’s demands to avoid getting hurt. The Bible says that God’s perfect love, demonstrated through His Son Jesus, casts out that kind of terror.

But there’s another kind of fear—the loving, respectful fear that a child has for a good, loving, and committed parent. A child who loves and respects his parent wants to do everything he can to please him or her. He fears the consequences of disobeying his parent—not because he fears the punishment, but because he doesn’t want to disappoint or hurt the most important person in his world.

When the Bible talks about fearing God, it’s referring to this loving type of fear—fear rooted in respect and love for God the Father.  So, a man with a healthy fear of God is not terrified of Him. He understands that while God can destroy the body and soul, He doesn’t want to. In fact, God “wants everyone to be saved and to understand the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).

Respect is Earned, Grace is Given

The truth is that God is full of grace. He loves you so much that He sent His Son, Jesus, who willingly sacrificed Himself and died for everything you’ve ever done wrong. All He asks in return is that you put your faith in Him.

In our world, gaining someone’s respect can come at a cost, and often takes effort. But God’s grace does not need to be earned—it’s free and available to all who believe in Jesus.

My friend spent eight years behind bars worried about what others thought of him. And his stress didn’t end with his sentence. After several years struggling to earn the respect of people on the outside, he found himself back in prison for four more years.

But during his second sentence, my friend decided to fear God instead of people. He decided to accept God’s gift of grace, and let that relationship determine his values and actions. He spent those four years at peace with himself and his fellow prisoners.

What if you did the same? What if, instead of fearing other people and their opinion of you, you were unconditionally loved and accepted by an all-powerful God?

Being respected and respecting others is important, but as my friend learned through his anxieties, you will never find peace by focusing only on the respect of others. True peace comes from the Lord.

If you fearfully respect God and accept the never-ending grace He freely offers, you’ll find what you’ve been searching for all along.

This article originally appeared on Prison Fellowship’s blog.

How to Calm and Quiet Your Soul

I careened into the driveway and slammed the engine into park. My breathing was shallow and quick. I was hot and sweaty and felt like the car was closing in on me.

I flung open the door and hung my legs out, hunching over on my knees. What is happening to me? I wondered. I re-traced my day, realizing I had lost myself in a mental spiral about my career. I knew I would soon be looking for another job, though I didn’t know what kind, if I would have to move my family, or what that would even look like.

Fortunately, I was seeing a counselor around that time. I told her what happened, and she asked about my prayer life. “Huh?” I said, confused. “Your prayer life. How is it?” she replied.

Ugh, I thought, knowing it was basically non-existent. “It’s not very good,” I told her.

As we talked, I realized that as my anxiety increased, my prayer decreased. As my inner world became noisier, I filled the prayer space with podcasts, music, and audiobooks—anything to keep me from dealing with my thoughts.

And it was ruining me.

Read the rest of my article at Gospel-Centered Discipleship

It’s Time for the Church to Save Face

The great challenge, I wrote in my last post, for the church today is to see the people everyone else is staring through.

Vivek Murphy, U.S. Surgeon General from 2014 to 2017, says, “For our health and our work, it is imperative that we address the loneliness epidemic quickly.”

But it’s not just health and work that are affected. Loneliness shrivels the soul. When no one is looking for us, we don’t know who we are. When no one is looking for us, we don’t know we are loved.

It’s Time for the Church to Save Face

But there is Someone looking for us. There is Someone who loves us. The church knows who that Someone is — Christ — and has been commissioned to tell the world who he is while displaying the kind of love he showed that declares we are not alone.

If the church wants to obey the Great Commission to reach the world for Christ and the Great Commandments to love God and neighbor, it is imperative that we address the loneliness epidemic quickly.

To combat loneliness, we must recover personhood. We must save face, which is to say we must restore the face, the personhood, of individuals. We must bring a personal gospel — a gospel which sees and affirms the dignity of each human while calling them to repent and turn to Christ — to an impersonal world.

All our talk about restoring culture does nothing if we don’t first restore the people in it. “We have lots of ways of talking about renewing and restoring culture; [but] it comes down to something very simple: in this world, and in the world that’s coming, the restoration of culture is the recognition of persons,” says Andy Crouch.

Impersonal churches cannot recognize persons, though. Impersonal churches cannot reach an impersonal world because impersonal churches have nothing to offer the world it doesn’t already have.

We don’t need another place to find weak social connections, fun activities, or online content; these can be found in abundance elsewhere. We don’t need another place to be a nameless, faceless entity.

We need a place where someone is looking for us. A place where we can first hear about the God who is looking for us and then discover a family that’s looking for us — a family that sees us.

And the good news is, the church can be just that. It already has been.

The Dignity Revolution in the Early Church

In the most technologically advanced society in the history of the world to that point, early Christianity flourished. In the impersonal, imperial Roman empire, Christianity revolutionized the concept of personhood by showing people the true meaning of personhood — of being seen, known, and loved by a personal God by recognizing persons of every possible status.

The revolutionary act of the early church, says Crouch, was “to see them all and know them all by name, and name them all as brothers and sisters. Is it any wonder that the early church grew?”

This high view of personhood was not mere sentiment. One particularly moving example of how this played out in and around the church comes to us from Dionysius, who was an overseer of the church in Alexandria when it was being devastated by a plague. He records how the church responded to the persons being ravaged by the disease:

The most … of our brethren in their exceeding love and affection for the brotherhood were unsparing of themselves and clave to one another, visiting the sick without a thought as to the danger, assiduously ministering to them, tending to them in Christ, and so most gladly departed this life along with them; being infected with the disease from others, drawing upon themselves the sickness from their neighbors, and willingly taking over their pains …

In this manner the best at any rate of our brethren departed this life, certain presbyters and deacons and some of the laity. … So, too, the bodies of the saints they would take up in their open hands to their bosom, closing their eyes and shutting their mouths, carrying them on their shoulders and laying them out; they would cling to them, embrace them, bathe and adorn them with their burial clothes, and after a little while receive the same services themselves, for those that were left behind were ever following those that went before.

But the conduct of [those outside the church] was the exact opposite. Even those who were in the first stages of the disease they thrust away, and fled from their dearest. They would even cast them in the roads half-dead, and treat the unburied corpses as vile refuse.

In a world marked that treated sick people as garbage to be discarded, the church saw each person as a person worthy of dignity, respect, and decency.

When their community was overrun by a mass of infected, faceless people, the Christians rushed in while everyone else rushed out.

This church was not content to refer people to a third-party nonprofit or a para-church ministry — they did the ministry themselves.

And how could they not? When Christians see each person as a person, how can they not have the same kind of compassion for them that they first saw in their Master?

The best response to such love is one offered by the church father Tertullian: “See how they love one another and how ready they are to die for each other!”

Seeing People for Who They Are

If the church of the 21st century wants to be faithful to Christ’s call to reach and love the world, she has to save face, to recover personhood.

She has to learn to recognize persons of every possible status.

She has to learn to see them all and know them all by name, and name them all as brothers and sisters.