The Last Post

For this year's last edition of A Believer's Broadside, the printing staff is presenting the first edition of The Fish Wrapper, an annual publication about the family behind this blog. We're looking forward to publishing more editions of ABB in the New Year. 

We wish you a blessed Christmas and a very happy 2017!
 

Christmastime is Here

“Christmas or Christmas Day is an annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, observed most commonly on December 25 as a religious and cultural celebration among billions of people around the world.” So begins Wikipedia’s article about the holiday I love best.

I had the privilege of being brought up in a home that kept Christmas in all its fullness. Christmas in our household was filled with many delightful traditions: the keeping of Advent, baking stollen, decorating a Christmas tree, and eating German delicatessen on Christmas Eve. And in the midst of those traditions, my parents wonderfully connected them all to the centerpiece of the holiday: the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

The blessing of that rich Christmas heritage is one of the biggest reasons it’s impossible for me to think of any aspect of Christmas apart from Jesus. Even Santa Clause, the supposed (and sometimes chosen) substitute of the Christ-child, is representative of the real-life Christ-follower who exemplified the compassion and generosity of his Lord.  While believers and nonbelievers alike have contributed to the holiday, it’s unmistakable that its purpose to “billions of people around the world,” as Wikipedia put it, is to remember Jesus’ birthday. As a believer myself, I see it as a great loss not to participate in Christmastime with the same intentionality with which I was raised. Why miss the opportunity to mark with great joy the coming of Immanuel, God with Us?

So, whether you are a longtime keeper of Christmas, a skeptical non-participant, or somewhere in the middle, I commend to you the following ways of passing this Yuletide.

Christmastime is for commemoration. God gave His people holidays to help them remember His great works on their behalf. Holidays like Passover (Exodus 12) reminded them of His protection and deliverance while holidays like The Feast of Booths (Leviticus 23:33-44) reminded them of His provision. In the same vein as those ancient holidays, there is no better time of the year than Christmas for Christians to commemorate God’s greatest work of all: the salvation of sinners through the incarnate Messiah.

Christmastime is for celebration. It’s appropriate that Christmas falls at a time of year when much of the world’s nighttime is at its longest. Darkness is representative of the condition that the world was in spiritually before the coming of Christ. It’s fitting that we mark with decorations, songs, food and mirth the advent of the Light of the World, the Victor over the darkness (John 1:1-14).

Christmastime is for reflection. Mary taught us from the very beginning that Christmas is a time for pondering (Luke 2:19). If you haven’t, think about the reasons Christ needed to come. What if He hadn’t come? What have you done with the fact of His coming? If you’ve received the Christ-child, how is He at work within your life today? What have you done to bring His light to those still in darkness?

Christmastime is for preparation. God’s people waited long for their Messiah’s coming, but when He finally arrived, only a few were actually prepared to receive Him. Simeon, Anna, and the Magi exemplify people who waited with active expectation for the birth of Christ. As a result, the day of His coming was one of incredible joy and fulfillment. We too are waiting for an advent, the Second Coming of Immanuel. We, like the Thessalonians, are waiting for God’s “Son from heaven, whom He raised from the dead, even Jesus who delivered us from the wrath to come.” (I Thess. 1:10) We might be waiting, but are we prepared, as those few at His first coming were, for His arrival? Indeed, I cannot think of any better reason for the celebration of the First Advent, then to prepare our hearts for the Second.

Photo by Chris Wolff, available in creative commons here

What to Do After Thanksgiving (Besides Eating Leftovers)

In case you forgot, Thanksgiving is this Thursday. That has already put me in a good mood for the week because Thanksgiving is the doorway to my most favorite time of the year: “The Holidays.” One of the reasons I love this season so much is that it lends itself to hopeful reflection. Both Thanksgiving and the Christmas season call us to remember what God has done and to look more intently at what He’s doing right now.  It makes us take a “time-out” to express our gratefulness for His goodness and grace in our lives.

But with the joyous celebration of the season, I also find a challenge. It’s easy to be thankful on Thanksgiving (and Christmas for that matter). Thanksgiving is a day of abundance: great food, time off work, fellowship with family and friends. Why shouldn’t we thank God for all His blessings when we’re holding tangible evidence of them on our dinner and dessert plates? But what about after the Thanksgiving leftovers have been polished off and the daily grind starts again on Monday morning?  Will the Day of Thanks translate into daily thankful living? It seems that’s when the real challenge to be thankful comes.

The Bible is replete with verses about gratitude, but I think no verse stresses the practical importance of giving thanks than I Thessalonians 5:18: “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”  And for those of us who like to use the “we don’t have to give thanks for all things, just in all things” loophole, God has given us Ephesians 5:20: “giving thanks always for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” There’s no wiggle room here; God’s will for Christians is that they be thankful people, in everything and for everything.

For me, a griper by nature, the simply-stated direction from God’s Word is wonderfully helpful. With the added benefit of the Holy Spirit’s guidance, I don’t have to look far to see where thankful living can be applied in my life. When my inner-whiner wants to ask why our toddler has to make so many messes, the Holy Spirit helps me see those messes as sweet reminders that we have a toddler to love and care for (and one day I’ll miss those messes to clean up). Where my inner-mumbler sees the 4-hour attempt at fixing the car CD player as a complete waste of time, the Holy Spirit helps me see that the same venture expanded my knowledge of automobile interiors and confirmed that the CD player really is broken and I can be thankful for it.

 So, in case you, like me, are suffering from a little lack of GTA (Giving Thanks Always), use this year’s Thanksgiving celebration as the catalyst for injecting practical gratitude into your daily routine.  You can start by thanking God for the dishwasher…because as every Thanksgiving dinner clean-up crew knows, you’re going to need it.  

The Comeback

I’m not from Chicago. I’ve never even been to Wrigley Field. But this last Wednesday, I was as die-hard a Chicago Cubs fan as they come. Yes, I stayed up until nearly 1 am listening  to World Series Game 7 (baseball is, I think, the best sport to be broadcast over the air waves), hoping against hope that the Cubbies could pull out one more victory against the Cleveland Indians. And they did, in one of the most dramatic World Series games baseball aficionados could have imagined.

So, why, if I’m not a true Cubs fan, did I sacrifice sleep (and stable nerves) to wish them onto victory? Because I love comebacks, especially those made by underdogs. With 108 years since their last championship title, the Cubs were due for winning the Big One. Down in the series 3-1, they fought their way through three more games, two in enemy territory, to make baseball history. The Cubs’ comeback appeals to me, and I think to most people, because it gives us hope that things can be different, that the odds can be beat, and the tables can be turned. That sort of sentiment extends beyond the baseball diamond.

On the eve of Election Day, we Americans feel a lot like the Cubs. Donald Trump’s campaign slogan “Make America Great Again” has resonated with a lot of voters for good reason. The average American, no matter what his political affiliation, would like things to be different. We’re hoping that somehow the next four years might bring, among other things,  economic growth, racial reconciliation, the defeat of ISIS, and restored international prominence for our country. In other words, we’d like an American comeback.

As a Christian, it’s especially difficult for me not to be discouraged at the state of my country. America’s condition is beyond a simple presidential prescription. The very soul of our nation is sick; it needs spiritual renewal as only God Himself can bring. But it’s not just the body politic that needs the boost. The American Church, faced with the consequences of decades of losing its savor and hiding its light, is facing hostility and apostasy simultaneously. We’re down 3-1 in the series, and it looks like we’re going to be playing the next couple games at Progressive Field, not at Wrigley. We need a spiritual comeback—a revival.

But as much as I hope and pray for these political and spiritual comebacks, it’s me that’s most often in need of a second wind.  I assess my life, with all its facets, and find slumps where I want to see progress.  I consider what needs to change about my game and find the necessary work daunting.  I want to be a World Series champ, but the stats say it’s been awhile since I’ve been a serious contender.

Thankfully, God has good news for me, as He does for America, and for the Church. “Have you not known?” asks the prophet Isaiah. “Have you not heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, neither faints nor is weary. He gives power to the weak, and to those who have no might He increases strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall, but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:28-31)

Comebacks are possible when we rely on God’s inexhaustible strength and trust in His never-failing care. Without that reliance and trust in Him, a true comeback won't ever happen. Some of the Cubs, I think, would suggest Isaiah’s playbook as the best comeback strategy. And as the 2016 World Series Champions, I think I’ll take their advice. 

After the Ballots Have Been Counted

Before you read any further, I need you to do two things (but promise to come back and finish reading after you do them). If you haven’t yet, check out my post about voting your conscience. I’d also commend this piece to you by Eric Metaxas (and just for context, this is the man who penned the definitive work on German hero Dietrich Bonhoeffer, gave a daring speech at the National Prayer Breakfast, and hosts an uplifting daily radio show about everything). I’m voting for Donald Trump for the same reasons Metaxas so ardently articulates. 

But whoever you are (or aren’t) voting for on November 8, think about what you’ll be doing on November 9 and beyond. No matter what the outcome the ballot boxes report, American Christians will have a lot of choices to make as we head into the next four years of the history of the United States. 

If Donald Trump is elected, many of us will breathe a sigh of relief—for a few moments. Unfortunately, if Trump takes residence in the White House, too many of us (i.e. conservative Christians) may do what we’ve done before: assume that a Republican presidency means we can coast for a while. Of course, the fact that the Republican president will be Trump is probably enough to keep a lot of us on our toes. But still, the tendency is to let our guard down when someone from our own side is the country's team captain. And besides the potential messes that Trump’s foibles might cause, we still have a hostile culture to deal with in the meantime. We still have to grapple with how to raise our children, how to boldly but winsomely practice our religious liberty, how to faithfully share the Gospel with our neighbors and acquaintances, and how to be practically involved in our communities.

And those questions become even more problematic if we get four years of another Clinton presidency—big time. Instead of an unpredictable friend, we will have a predictable opponent of the core principles that we as Christians hold dear.  

So, regardless of the election results nationally, regionally and locally, plan on doing the following things (even if you feel depressed) on the morning of November 9.

Pray. Praise God that He is sovereign, and thank Him that He has a good purpose for whoever He has placed in positions of authority.  Read Psalm 141:8: “But my eyes are upon You, O God the Lord; in You I take refuge…” Ask Him for wisdom for what to do in the days ahead.

Be faithful to do what God has called you to do. No matter who is elected, don't alter your current way of life because of what might happen if you don't. Take a cue from Daniel, who kept publicly worshiping God even after he knew it might put him in a lion's den (and it did!) Maybe we might have to do some things a little differently because it's prudent or more effective, but we can't operate out of fear. Follow the British morale poster from WWII: "Keep Calm and Carry On."

Be a voice of hope. No, really. Christians can always, always, always bring good news when there is bad news, light when there is darkness, hope when there is despair. The Gospel is still the Gospel. No matter who lives in the White House, Jesus is still the King of kings. He will put all to rights, and for those who are right with Him, the very best is yet to come. As the Apostle Peter put it:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith--more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire--may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. (I Peter 1:3-7 ESV)

Book Review: Meet the Men and Women We Call Heroes

I love biographies because they’re true stories about relatable and yet inspirational people. But often I don’t have the time I’d like to delve into the details about the great men and women of history. And sometimes, I like to get a sense of who a person was before spending a few dozen hours of my life reading a 400-page book about them. That’s one of the reasons I’m grateful for my recent journey through Meet the Men and Women We Call Heroes, an anthology of 20 short biographies edited by Charles Turner and Ann Spangler.

 Heroes is unique in two ways: its subjects and their authors. Unlike other “hero” books, the people you’ll encounter in this volume are not particularly famous, but they were particularly impacting. There are a few headliners, like Mother Teresa and C.S. Lewis, but most are only moderately known (e.g. Catherine Marshall, Paul Brandt, Amy Carmichael), and many without any prior notoriety. They come from all points in history (the Middle Ages to modern times) and include scholars, politicians, authors, editors, poets, doctors, missionaries, fathers and mothers.

But even more unique than the collection of heroes this anthology contains is the collection of authors who describe them. Each author, 10 men and 10 women, was (and in most cases, still is) considered an influential Christian in 1985, the year of the book’s publishing. Readers then and now see them as modern “heroes of the faith,” and this puts an entirely new perspective on each contribution. Instead of simply reading about William Wilberforce, you'll read about the historical cultural activist from modern cultural activist Chuck Colson. Ever wonder who inspired people like R.C. Sproul, Elisabeth Elliot, J.I. Packer, or Philip Keller? Heroes will give you the answer. And like the subjects themselves, the contributors include lesser known (but just as effective) communicators.  

In each of the book’s 20 chapters, a contributor describes his or her hero in their own unique style. You’ll read Kitty Muggeridge’s straightforward life account of Mother Teresa, Elisabeth Sherrill’s dramatic portrayal of Adrienne de Lafayette (a.ka. the wife of the Marquis de Lafayette of American Revolution fame), and Harry Blamires’ reminisces of what it was like to be a student of C.S. Lewis. It’s true that some authors do the job better than others, but each piece gives special insight into both hero and admirer. In many instances, the chapter is a first hand account written by someone who knew the hero, sometimes quite personally.

Because it’s an unassuming paperback from 30 years ago, some might think Heroes is old enough to be considered dated, but recent enough to be considered unremarkable. But that’s a mistake. While there are a few chapters where the book’s age does leave some gaps (e.g. some of the heroes who were living have since passed on), the accounts are otherwise timeless, and the heroes just as worth learning about and emulating now as they were then.

Meet the Men and Women We Call Heroes, edited by Charles Turner and Ann Spangler, 368 pages, (Servant Publications, 1985 and other editions) is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble . Contributors (and their heroes) include Kitty Muggeridge (Mother Teresa), Elisabeth Elliot (Amy Carmichael), Kathryn Koob (Catherine Marshall), Elizabeth Sherrill (Adrienne de Lafayette), Ingrid Trobisch (Johanna Mathilda Lind Hult), Luci Shaw (Elizabeth Rooney), Gladys Hunt (Evelyn Harris Brand), Karen Burton Mains (Wilma Burton), Madeleine L’Engle (Mary McKenna O’Connell), Rebecca Manley Pippert (Ethel Renwick), Harry Blamires (C.S. Lewis), Philip Yancey (Paul Brand), Charles Colson (William Wilberforce), R.C. Sproul (Thomas Aquinas), W. Phillip Keller (Otto C. Keller), J.I. Packer (David Martyn-Lloyd Jones), Thomas Howard (Philip E. Howard Jr.), Robert E. Coleman (Blaise Pascal), Charles Turner (T. Stanley Soltau), and Malcom Muggeridge (Alexander Solzhenitsyn). 

Comments on Comments

Since some of my readers have given me some feedback about the inability to leave comments on the Broadside, I thought I’d provide some clarification on that quirky characteristic of this blog. And just so no one is confused, the reason you can’t leave a comment is because I’ve chosen not to allow comments after the posts. Here are the main reasons why:

The Printer likes to control his press

The no-comments policy gives me more control of my blog. One of my apprehensions about starting a blog was that I knew I’d want to thoughtfully respond to comments I’d receive, particularly ones raising additional points or, horror of horrors, arguing contra my point of view. But I know myself well enough that I don’t have the available time or energy to put into comment-responding as I’d like to (assuming I’d get any comments that is). Getting two posts up a month was enough of a plunge.

The Printer wants thoughtful dialogue

I’ve seen enough comment wars on social media to know that comments can be written in a knee-jerk reaction to whatever has been posted (or previously commented).  Instead, I’ve chosen a medium of feedback that I trust will stimulate good, substantive thought-sharing between me and my readers: the email. The beauty of writing an email is that it takes time to compose (resulting in more reflection and less knee-jerkishness), and it’s also private (which I, for one, find a more comfortable means of discussing an important topic than engaging in a digital debate in front of the entire Web community).

The Printer prints a broadside, not an internet forum

While I might occasionally open up future posts for comment, for now, I’m keeping the broadside a broadside. But please, if you would like to share your thoughts with me (whether they be affirmative or contrary), I’d love to see your email in my inbox at believersbroadside@gmail.com  

Special Edition: Patriot Day Sage

I originally wrote this fictitious conversation between a young father and his young son on the 10^th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. In honor of the 15^th anniversary of Patriot Day, I’m publishing it in print for the first time. When I wrote it, I didn’t have a son. Now I do.

“Papa?”

I looked in the rearview mirror of my car at the questioner, my 8-year-old son. We were returning from a Saturday summer BBQ; the rest of the family had already gone home while Patrick and I had stayed to help clean-up. I recognized the inquisitive tone in my son’s voice.

“Yes?” I replied, mentally gearing up for what could likely be a longer discussion than most dads have with their 8-year-old sons. Patrick had always been more perceptive than most boys his age; and after becoming a follower of Jesus at age 5, his perceptiveness, even on matters adults would find complex, had only increased. So, I anticipated that the question might be more than just what we were having for breakfast the next morning.

“Mr. Rice said something at the BBQ tonight about tomorrow being Patriot Day.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I heard some other people talk about it before at church. Is it some sort of holiday, Papa?”

“Well, sort of…Not exactly.” I hadn’t anticipated a question about this topic, even though I’d been reminded about the tenth anniversary of September 11 all week. I knew my answer wasn’t going to be satisfactory to Patrick, and before I’d gotten anything else out, he was already looking for more.

“Well Papa, if it isn’t a holiday, then why is it on the calendar, and why is there a name for it?”

“You saw it on the calendar too, huh?”

“Yeah. September 11. That’s tomorrow.”

“So it is.”

“But Papa, you still haven’t told me what it’s all about.”

“Well,” I paused for a moment, not sure how to delve into telling my young son about one of the most evil, horrific terrorist acts in history.

“Well, it’s a day we remember something that happened 10 years ago, something actually very sad. You see, Patrick, on September 11, 2001, a group of men took over some airplanes and flew them into some big buildings in New York City, and in Washington D.C. They took over one more airplane that ended up crashing in Pennsylvania.”

Patrick processed this for a few moments. “You mean on purpose, Papa?”

“Yes, Patrick. On purpose.”

“Were a lot of people hurt?”

I paused again, not quite sure how to communicate the incomprehensible.

“Yes, Patrick. A lot of people were not only hurt. A lot of people were killed.” I paused again, thinking of how to give my son an idea of just how large the number of the casualties of 9/11 was. “Almost as many people died as who live in our town.” Patrick was intrigued with demographics, even at this young age, so I knew he already had our town’s population statistic down pat.

“3,000 people, Papa?” he asked in astonishment.

“Just about.”

He was silent again, this time much longer.

“Papa?”

“Yes, son?”

“Why did those men do that to all those people?”

I’d figured this question would come, but I was still deciding how to answer it. How would I give an 8-year-old an answer to that question without going into a hundred other topics along the way? How could I explain to him the roots and nature of Islamic aggression? How did I explain to him the concept of national sin and God’s judgment for it? How did I explain to him the paradox of God’s sovereignty and man’s responsibility for his actions? “Lord,” I silently prayed, “how do I tell a little boy the answer to a question I’m still figuring out myself?”

Meantime, Patrick repeated his question. “Papa, why?” he insisted. “Why would those men want to make all those people die?”

In a moment, a clear answer came to my mind.

“Because they believed in a lie, son.”

“Huh?” Patrick queried.

“Patrick, the men who flew those planes in those buildings and killed all those people, didn’t know Jesus. You know that Jesus wants us to be kind and loving, even to those who are mean to us. Well, these men believed that they would be following their god by killing people who didn’t follow their god. Pretty scary, huh?”

Patrick was silent for a few seconds. “But why would they ever believe that?”

“Well son, when you don’t believe the truth, you’ll believe just about anything. Because these men believed a lie, they ended up doing something pretty dreadful.”

I paused for a moment. It was indeed unthinkable that the Islamic jihadists who perpetrated the attacks of September 11 were convinced that they were performing acts of holy war, pleasing to Allah, and meriting salvation. What a horrible shock they must have had to discover the opposite was true. But there was another side of the 9/11 attacks I wanted my son to understand.

“But you know what, Patrick?”

“What?”

“Those men weren’t the only ones who were believing a lie that day.”

“They weren’t, Papa?”

“No. You see, son, our country had been turning away from what is true for many years before those men did what they did. In fact, Patrick, a lot of people in our country had begun to think that we didn’t really need God anymore. We were smart enough, had enough money, and a big enough army to take care of ourselves. We didn’t need to listen to God.”

“That’s pretty dumb,” Patrick replied quickly.

“Well, yes it is. But it’s what we often do as people, Patrick. We tend to forget we need God every day, every moment. We each need Him, and we need Him as a country. But we’d stopped believing that.”

“So when those men flew those planes into those buildings and killed all those people, it helped us remember that we needed God?”

“That’s right, son. It helped many of us to understand that just because we might have the most freedom, the most money, and the biggest army of any other country in the world, we still needed the God of Heaven’s help and protection.”

“And that we still need to follow what He wants us to do,” Patrick added. Once again, I marveled at his understanding. “So Papa,” Patrick continued, “have the people in America stopped believing those lies and started believing in the truth again?”

I paused once again. My initial thought was to tell him what he probably could already conclude from his 8-year-old deductive abilities. No, most Americans were still believing a lot of the same lies they’d believed before 9/11. A trip to the local mall was proof of that. But as I gave it more thought, I realized that there was more than that to tell my young son.

“Patrick, sadly, most Americans are still believing lies. But at the same time, there are many, many people in our country who love Jesus and who are telling others the truth. And even though they may not seem like very many compared to everyone else, God is using those people to help many Americans to stop believing Satan’s lies, and come to know Jesus.”

“You mean like Mr. Ham and the big Creation Museum we saw last year that tells people about Genesis?”

“That’s right.”

“And Mr. Bowers who brings food and tracts to people who don’t have very much money?”

“Yep.”

“And Pastor Sam who preaches from the Bible every week?”

“Yes, Patrick, and all the families at church, and in many churches and places all across the country that are teaching their children about Jesus and His Word and who are telling others about Him through all kinds of ways. Like Mrs. Jones who helps ladies who don’t have a husband to help them take care of their babies. And the Roberts family who pick all those kids up for church who don’t have parents who can take them. And you know what else, Patrick?”

“What?”

“Jesus is also using people here in America and in many other places in the world to help people like those men who flew the planes on September 11, come to know Jesus too. And many of them are.”

“That’s pretty super, Papa!”

“Yes, it is.”

Our ride home was almost through, but we hadn’t pulled into the driveway before Patrick made one final observation.

“Hey Papa?”

“Yes?”

“I think I know what Patriot Day is all about now.”

I smiled. “You do?”

“Yeah. It’s about helping people know about God’s truth, so that they can be free, like the Bible says. Then those men won’t fly airplanes into buildings anymore, and America will always remember to follow God.”

I turned around to look at my son. “I think that’s about the best anyone has ever put it, buddy.”

That night, in the wee hours of 9/11/2011, I lay awake pondering  my conversation with the 8-year-old sage. The notes of a song, blaring from a distant radio somewhere in our rural neighborhood, drifted through the open window and into our bedroom. It was a patriotic tune, and with a little effort, I could make out the words:

               In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea

               with a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.

               As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free,

               while God is marching on.

“May it be so, Lord Jesus,” I quietly prayed. “May it be so indeed.”

Vote Your Conscience

Whatever you thought of Ted Cruz’s speech at the Republican National Convention in Cleveland, his exhortation to “vote your conscience” is one that the Christian voter should wholeheartedly follow. After all, the idea of freedom of conscience is a thoroughly Biblical one. If you’re in doubt, spend some time in the apostle Paul’s epistle to the Romans (chapter 14 to be exact). Or perhaps consider Martin Luther, who, with a little more weighing on his mind than who to vote for, said that “to go against conscience is neither right nor safe.” With that in mind, and the presidential election just two months away, Christians all over the country should be prayerfully preparing to enter the voting booth so that they can come out of it with their conscience intact. Of course, the looming question for many such believers is how in the world do they do that?

Two caveats are in order before I attempt to answer that question. First, this post is primarily directed to those of you who are considering a vote for Donald Trump or some candidate other than Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump. I know some of you might believe Hillary Clinton is the best option in this race; if you do, I’d challenge you to examine Secretary Clinton’s agenda and track record in light of both Christian morality and constitutional political policy, and then let me know how you think her presidency would promote either.  Second, this is the first time in my voting history that I will be casting my ballot for the Republican nominee (I voted third party in the last two presidential elections, so I know what it’s like to buck both big parties; for those of you considering it this time around, I feel your pain).

So, how do we do it? How do we vote our conscience in a presidential election that has left us with what many believe to be more dismal than the “lesser of two evils?” I’ll give you four maxims that might help you get there.

Remember that God is in charge. It can be cliché, but for the Christian, that truth changes everything. God’s sovereignty means that nothing is outside of His masterplan, and that we can fully trust His choice (and yes, I said choice) of who rules and who does not. We can confidently concur with the conclusion of one of the world’s most powerful kings, Nebuchadnezzar, that “the Most High God rules in the kingdom of men, and appoints over it whomever He chooses.” (Daniel 5:21)

Put the act of voting in the context of your larger responsibility as a Christian citizen. As Christians, our goal isn’t to take over the government in order to establish a literal “Christian nation” that perfectly implements righteous policy. That won’t happen until the return of King Jesus. Instead, our main priority is to be salt ( preserving life) and light (providing clarity) in our culture (Mathew 5:13-14), to be a blessing to our community and country (Jeremiah 29:7), and to seek to live peaceably according to the dictates of our conscience towards God (I Thess. 4:10-12). In considering the act of voting, those are the things that matter the most.  Look to the lives of Daniel, Esther, and Nehemiah as models for how to effectively impact political figures while never compromising your conscience. And check out this election series by a pastor who's worked with government officials for over 3 decades. 

Articulate your choice with respect for other voters’ consciences. The apostle Peter exhorts believers to be ready to explain to others (anyone, in fact) why we do the things we do as Christians. But he conditions that we do so with “gentleness and respect” (I Peter 3:15, ESV). I’ve heard a lot of “Never Trump” folks proclaim their stance with all the snobbishness of a condescending cat. They assume that those Christians supporting Trump are doing so thoughtlessly or as compromised wimps, not from thoughtful or morally-supportable positions. On the other side, pro-Trump Christians have marginalized those who aren’t supporting Trump as being pro-Hillary (i.e. political traitors), instead of respecting their genuine (and honorable) attempt not to violate their conscience. Wherever you may stand, just make sure that it really is principle, not pride, that is determining your conclusion. 

No matter who you decide to vote (or not vote for) in the presidential election, don’t stay home on election day. I’ll let Jayme Metzger from The Federalist dismantle any possible notion of "not voting" in this piece, still the best political commentary I've read on this election to date.

He Must Increase

One of my thorns in the flesh is ambition. And by ambition, I don’t mean motivation, goal-setting, or drive. All of those have positive aspects which help a person accomplish God’s good work and purpose in his life. By ambition, I mean a constant desire, subtle though it may be, for recognition, advancement and memorialization. Granted, my ambition has always been tied to good things: righteous causes, meaningful  work, and important relationships. But frequently, if I don’t receive recognition, if I don’t advance, and if I don’t have the sense that I’ll be remembered, then the cause seems less worth the effort, the work bitters, and the relationship disappoints. And that can make me a basket case.

The antidote to my thorn is the truth of God’s Word. Ephesians 2:10 tells me that I’ve been created for “good work,” ordained by God Himself. That truth alone puts things in perspective: my life isn’t about figuring out how to get the kudos of men, how to advance my career, or how to make it into the history books. It’s about faithfully doing the good work I’ve been given by God, even as He completes the good work He has begun in me (Phil. 1:6). The Bible also tells me that God’s good work for His children isn’t all in the limelight. 2 Timothy 2:20 (NIV) says that  in God’s “house,” some of us will be “articles…for special purposes”(i.e. fine china) and some of us will be “articles…for common use” (i.e. the Tupperware that holds the left-over sauerkraut), but each of us has a purpose, a necessary purpose in the Master’s mansion . Matthew 5:20 reminds me that my good works are to bring glory to God, not me, when they are observed by others.

But even though I know these truths, my thorn of ambition still gets under my skin. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been so drawn to the guy that Jesus said was the greatest person ever born:  John the Baptist. (Matt. 11:11) If there was anyone who had a right to revel just a little in their life purpose, it was John. With a miraculous birth and divine calling, John the Baptist became the single greatest preacher of his era, perhaps of any era. Crowds went into the Judean desert to hear his powerful sermons. His followers transcended racial and socioeconomic barriers. He showed no fear of upsetting the apple carts of the political and religious establishments. And his popularity was so great among the people that even after his death, the religious elite couldn’t openly question that John’s ministry wasn’t ordained by God. (Matt. 21:25-27) Add baptizing the Christ, and being the “voice in the wilderness” preparing the way for the Messiah, and you’ve got a resume that’s pretty hard to beat.

With that kind of pedigree, purpose and popularity, John might have struggled with his ego, but if he did, he resoundingly put it in its place. As Jesus’ ministry launched and more and more people switched to following the Galilean Carpenter, John didn’t bemoan the loss: he welcomed it. As Christ’s forerunner, John pointed people to Jesus from the very beginning. He didn’t stop as the crowds diminished. When his own ministry faded, John explained that this was how it was supposed to work. “A man can receive nothing unless it has been given to him from heaven,” John explained to his followers. “You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ,’ but ‘I have been sent before Him’…Therefore this joy of mine is fulfilled. He must increase and I must decrease.”  (John 3:27-30) John’s words sum up the believer’s best ambition: to point others to Christ. And if the greatest prophet of all time learned to make that his ambition, maybe I can too.

 
So, to my thorn of ambition, I say “no matter where I am, or what I am doing, no matter if I win an award or my name is never etched in monumental stone, if my faithfulness in my God-given good work causes someone to see Jesus, than that is enough.”  Remarkably, that makes the prick of my thorn a lot less bothersome. If it’s pricking you too, I’d recommend John the Baptist’s cure. 

Simplifying Complexity

I recently saw a bumper sticker that read “Trillions to Wars; Pennies to the Poor.” Apparently the driver was advocating particular perspectives about governmental policies, but as catchy as the sticker sounds, its simplicity reduced some fairly complex issues (e.g. national defense, foreign relations, social welfare, government taxation and spending) to a fragmented sentence on the back of a car. At best, it’s a conversation starter, but not especially helpful for readers in making informed conclusions on those matters. Like most bumper stickers, it was a familiar example of something we human beings are experts at doing: simplifying complexity.

Since the time we were kids, we’ve had an innate desire to have things explained to us, and preferably, as simply as possible. I’ve noticed that we really don’t outgrow that childlike preference, even when we’ve gotten old enough to know that things are a little more complicated then we thought they were when we were 6. But it doesn’t keep us from still doing it as grown-ups. It's also not a trait that is limited to people of one particular political persuasion. Conservatives do it as much as liberals. And it’s not limited to political discussions. Take any area of interest: history, science, theology, politics, even technology—we gravitate to labels and stereotypes. It makes life easier and controversial issues more clear cut. And though simplification is not itself bad, the danger lies in reducing issues, events and even people down to slogans, cliff notes, or pejoratives. In our age of texts, tweets, and sound bites, that’s a problem.

 We don’t have to look far to see the negative effects of simplifying complexity. The current tension between police and minorities is viewed by some as overblown and by others as under-reported. For a white political conservative like me who grew up in the Pacific Northwest where racial conflict was rare, I gravitate towards siding with those who are asking “What’s the big deal?” I’m prone to suggest that those criticizing law enforcement are motivated more by a political agenda then a genuine concern about police brutality. Then I hear the personal testimony of Tim Scott, a Republican senator from South Carolina, and I realize that my experience can’t simplify the issue; racism is a real thing, and many still experience its ugly effects. But I also have friends who are police officers. Their perspective reminds me that most cops are good people, men and women trying to stop the bad guys while putting food on their families’ tables. Reducing the issues of police violence and violence to police to a simple us-versus-them mentality is demeaning to victims of racism as well as the members of the thin blue line. Ultimately, it is unhelpful to constructive dialogue that might bring a solution to a tragic social ill.

People, especially public figures, are frequently the target of negative simplification. From now until November 8, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump will be two of the most demonized people in the world. Why? Because it’s far easier to vilify a person (and their supporters) who opposes your viewpoint than it is to thoughtfully contend with them on their positions. Humanizing political candidates we’d rather stereotype complicates things. It inconveniently pokes at our own humanity, reminds us that those folks are made in God’s image, and hints that they might be a bit more complex than the sum of their political stances.

Simplifying complexity can leave us in the sorry position of being unable to see an issue, a circumstance, or even a relationship from a bigger picture. That kind of unwillingness hinders our ability to contemplate a different perspective, a perspective that might lead to a better solution, a better understanding, and a better relationship.

Contemplating complexity doesn’t mean you won’t still reach a straightforward conclusion on a matter; it’s necessary that you do. But it does mean you’ve given consideration to more than just the bumper-sticker version of an issue. And by doing so, you’re actually reflecting the nature of your Creator.  He could simplify us, and our pathetic laments and complaints to Him, as nothing more than indicators of our finite, frail humanity. But instead, the One who is all-knowing and all-mighty “remembers that we are dust” and “forgives…heals…redeems…crowns…satisfies…[and] pities those who fear Him.” (Psalm 103:1-14). We should take our cue from Him, and start contemplating complexity instead of simplifying it. Maybe we can start with our bumper stickers.

A Visit to Two Houses

I enjoy comedy, particularly stand-up. I like laughing, and thankfully, it doesn’t take much to tickle my funny bone. In my free time, I’ll frequently peruse my favorite comedians’ YouTube channels, or see if I can find a new comic to give me some laughs.

The not-so-funny thing about comedy is that its positive effects don’t last. I might remember a bit of a hilarious routine a few days later, but eventually, I’ll forget that I ever watched the video or heard the joke. Comedy is, by nature, short-lived. Like a drug that relieves the sensation of pain, comedy can temporarily alleviate the suffering of the painful present, if only for a few hours. And that’s not a bad thing. Solomon tells us that merriment is a good medicine (Proverbs 15:13), and I can attest to the relief that humor can bring to a weary soul.

But the superficial nature of comedy is what makes it dangerous. If we consume nothing but mirth, it can become a substitute for the necessity of dealing with the nitty-gritty substance of real life. And that’s why the same inspired sage who advised laughter as a sort of emotional opiate, also advised that it’s “better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will take it to heart.” (Ecclesiastes 7:2)

Recently, Mikaela and I watched a dramatization of Charles Dickens’ Bleak House (for those of you who care, it was the BBC 2005 version starring Gillian Anderson, Anna Maxwell Martin and Charles Dance). Inasmuch as I enjoy comedy, I appreciate substantive, thought-provoking drama even more, even if it tends towards heaviness. Bleak House was certainly such fare, and though I knew it would be Dickens, I wasn’t prepared for the tragic fates of several of the main characters (spoiler alert!). Lady Deadlock chooses suicide rather than face the potential consequences of bad choices she made decades before. Richard Carstone pours the whole energies of his life into what is only a chance of wealth, instead of seeking a diligent means to provide and sustain what he already has. He dies young, consumed and broken when his chance vanishes. And Mr. Tulkinghorn, who lives his life manipulating, intimidating, and destroying others, is himself destroyed by a bullet to the heart. 

Bleak House isn’t all bleak; several protagonists see bright days after dark ones and reap the pleasant fruit of investing in the worthwhile. But it’s the dark days’ lessons that seem most poignant; lessons that though dark are yet divine. Lady Deadlock might have had a different end had she considered Mark 8:35: “For whosever will save his life shall lose it; but whosever shall lose his life for My sake and the Gospel’s, the same shall save it.” Richard Carstone ignored the question of his most beloved friends,“Will you set your eyes on that which is not? For riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away like an eagle toward heaven.”(Proverbs 23:5). And perhaps Mr. Tulkinghorn might have lived a longer, less brutish life, had he paid heed to Solomon’s admonition that “He who digs a pit will fall into it, and whoever breaks through a wall will be bitten by a serpent.” (Ecclesiastes 10:8)

Stories like Bleak House are helpful if we want to have the wisdom of God deeply imprinted on our souls. For in reading (or watching) them, we visit the “house of mourning.” And the lessons we find there, unlike the short-lived effects of the "house of feasting," will stay with us for good, if we take them to heart. 

About the Broadside

What is a broadside? Simply put, it’s a piece of paper that has been printed on only one side. The small amount of research I did on the history of the broadside (including a chat with the printer in Colonial Williamsburg, VA) revealed that the broadside has been used for a variety of purposes, some more noble than others. According to the Library of Congress, broadsides were historically “used to inform the public about current news events, publicize official proclamations and government decisions, announce and record public meetings and entertainment events, advocate political and social causes, advertise products and services, and celebrate popular literary and musical efforts.”

Among those “official proclamations” that found themselves being transported via broadside throughout the towns and country sides of Colonial America in 1776 was the Declaration of Independence.

And what do I mean by “Believer”? It’s an adjective to describe me, the Printer, as one who “believes” in Jesus, as described in the Gospel of John: “but these things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name.” (John 20:31)

Hence, what you will find on this blog is a broadside of information, perspectives, and ideas put forth from the finite, but I trust helpful, tongue of a believer in Jesus. I pray that the words printed here will cause my readers to learn, to think, and perhaps, to even believe.

A Believer's Broadside is published bi-monthly on the first and third Mondays of the month. If you have thoughtful feedback you would like to share with the Printer, you are very welcome to email him at believersbroadside@gmail.com