Breakpoint

In a strange but memorable story told by both Mark and Matthew, Salome, the stepdaughter of King Herod, dances for his birthday. Delighted by her performance, Herod tells her, "Whatever you ask me for, I will give it to you, up to half my kingdom." Salome is advised by her mother to ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter (Mark 6:22-24). Distressed but trapped by his publicly made promise, Herod gives Salome what she wants.

The story takes up only about two paragraphs, but it tells us a great deal. Not only about the protagonists, but about the overall human condition. It's almost Dostoyevsky-ian. In fact, the story has inspired many works of art throughout the centuries, including paintings by Titian and Moreau, an opera by Richard Strauss, and a play by Oscar Wilde.

Though the story clearly has had a grip on artistic and cultural imaginations through the years, it is not a product of the Gospel writers' imaginations. It is firmly rooted in history. And just recently, the Israeli newspaper Haaretz reported that the site of the story had been discovered.

Located at Machaerus, Jordan, is a fortress on a cliff with a view of the Dead Sea. On clear days, Jerusalem can be seen from this perch. Inside is a 7,000-square-foot royal courtyard where "archaeologists have identified a semicircular niche where they believe [Herod's] throne was positioned." According to the article, the archeological team "re-erected two of the columns that had once held up the roof of the courtyard where the princess Salome is said to have danced."

Obviously, stones can't confirm all the details of the story told in Matthew and Mark, but other extra-biblical sources confirm parts of the story. The best example is Jewish historian Flavius Josephus, who wrote around the same time as the Gospel writers. Herodias, Josephus writes, "took upon [herself] to confound the laws of our country and divorced herself from her husband while he was alive, and was married to Herod Antipas." This was the act that drew both the ire and the condemnation of John the Baptist. The royal couple was so displeased with the prophet's outspokenness, they threw him in prison. Apparently, Herodias never got over her grudge.

Josephus also confirms that Herod gave the order to execute John. Josephus also described John as "a good man [who] commanded the Jews to exercise virtue." The historian even gives us a date and a place for the execution, about February in A.D. 32 at the fortress at Machaerus, (Antiquities, XVIII. 5. 2). Josephus goes on to suggest that a subsequent military defeat was seen by his subjects as "a punishment… a mark of God's displeasure to him."

To be clear, Josephus does not mention the role that Salome or Herodias played in John's death, but it doesn't mean that the biblical account is fiction. Josephus is clearly not a neutral historian. His ancient style does not obey the "rules" applied to modern histories. Still, modern historians rightly treat Josephus as an important historical source.

However, the Gospels are not given the same consideration. Clearly, the Gospel writers were writing history, a history with basic details repeatedly confirmed by Josephus and others. Treating them differently, as many scholars do, says much more about the prejudices of modern historians than about the historical reliability of the narratives.

For Christians, the fact that the biblical story takes place in actual human history, and not "Once upon a time," says a lot about the kind of faith we have. It's not merely a "way," a set of virtues to respect and follow. When Luke, for example, situates the ministries of John and Jesus by telling readers historically verifiable details like who the emperor and local rulers were, he's describing something that actually happened in human history. The Christian faith is open to scrutiny and skeptics. It's not afraid to be weighed and tested.

And, in the end, the Bible is the best-attested book of antiquity, and nothing else comes close. The Bible is not a historical novel, a work of fiction written to inspire us. It's true. It describes the world as it actually is. And yet, it's also one of the most powerful sources for the great works created by the human imagination.

John, Shane, and Maria consider important movements likely to impact 2021. From political challenges and global issues to our own perspectives on identity, the team decipher shifts we need to prepare for in the new year.

This week we take a look back at the most-talked-about BreakPoint commentaries from 2020, covering the key issues of this turbulent year.

A few years ago, a popular Christian singer ended her set by leading the audience in "O Come All Ye Faithful," even though it wasn't Christmastime. By the time the song was over, and the crowd's attention was pulled back to the stage, the singer was gone. While it was her concert and not a church service, she hoped to point to God and not herself. When it was time for her well-earned applause, the singer was out of sight.

A few weeks ago, news broke that a young, popular pastor from Hillsong Church in New York City had been fired. Carl Lentz is known for hanging out with celebrities, throwing so-called "Church house parties," and dressing in expensive, stylish, and even provocative ways. On Instagram, Lentz confessed that he had been unfaithful in his marriage.

This remarkably sad story is certainly not the only one we've heard recently of a pastor or ministry leader found guilty of a moral failing. Both from our observation and from Jesus' teaching, it is clear that fame and wealth can both attract temptation and cultivate corruption. The main lesson for all of us is to stay accountable. Stay humble. There, but for the grace of God, go I.

There's also a lesson here about the relentless pursuit of relevance. When pastors and ministry leaders flirt with celebrity, Christianity becomes a brand. When that happens, the surrounding noise of marketing and brand-building drowns out the central promise of a changed life. Suddenly, the metrics of a "successful" ministry shift from faithfulness to the number of likes, shares, and dollars.

About the same time that I read the heartbreaking news about Carl Lentz, I learned of the passing of a man I'd known since I was young. Lee Stone spent decades as a volunteer girls' basketball coach at the little Christian school I attended and as the pastor of a small country Baptist church in Virginia. For 34 years he led the local rescue mission in town, helping men and women who were down and out with alcoholism, addiction, and homelessness–often the same men and women, over and over again.

Lee Stone was a quiet man, and he walked with a limp. He was certainly no celebrity. I can't say for sure, but I would be willing to bet a lot of money that he never had an Instagram account. However, what's clear, both from his obituary and from the tributes that poured in on social media, is that Lee Stone was a man who loved others deeply and was deeply loved by many. He left his community better without ever building his "platform."

"Lee's legacy," the local newspaper read, "is one of serving God with the compassion of Jesus Christ." That legacy and Lee's impact were quietly built on a lifetime of faithfulness. He is survived by his lovely wife, to whom he was married for 65 years, his 4 children, and his 23 grandchildren.

The contrast between these two stories, one which made national headlines and one that made the local paper's obituary section, was stark. I am sure he wasn't perfect, but Mr. Stone chose a life largely insulated from the temptation to entitlement or self-worship or fame. But his impact was great.

I want to be like Lee Stone. I don't think I'm old enough to offer much life or ministry advice, but I will confidently advise anyone called to serve the Lord as a pastor or speaker or ministry leader, if given the choice between the way of a celebrity pastor or the way of Lee Stone, choose the latter.

Our talent and drive and even our charisma can often write checks that our character can't cash. Err instead on the side of a quiet, faithful life. Leave the stage before the applause starts. The applause of our Father, "who sees in secret," is the only praise we need anyway.

This commentary first aired December 15, 2020

This week we take a look back at the most-talked-about BreakPoint commentaries from 2020, covering the key issues of this turbulent year.

There are no highlights from Tuesday night's presidential debate. There are, however, plenty of "lowlights": name-calling, untruths, anger, vitriol, interruption. It was a debacle on every level.

During the debate, my friend Trevin Wax tweeted, "Neil. Postman. He saw this coming forty years ago," referring to how the author of Amusing Ourselves to Death, who described what happens in societies when societies' entertainment replaces truth and celebrity-ism replaces virtue.

In addition to Postman, a speech called "A World Split Apart," given at the Harvard University commencement on June 8, 1978, by Russian dissident Alexander Solzhenitsyn has proven to be the best decoder of our cultural moment. Today, we live downstream from, in the wake of, what Solzhenitsyn attempted to describe to his booing audience.

For example, Solzhenitsyn described how the West had replaced the pursuit of happiness by virtue with a pursuit of happiness by stuff:

"Every citizen has been granted the desired freedom and material goods in such quantity and of such quality as to guarantee in theory the achievement of happiness … however, one psychological detail has been overlooked: the constant desire to have still more things and a still better life and the struggle to obtain them imprint many Western faces with worry and even depression … The majority of people have been granted well-being to an extent their fathers and grandfathers could not even dream about; it has become possible to raise young people according to these ideals, leading them to physical splendor, happiness, possession of material goods, money and leisure, to an almost unlimited freedom of enjoyment. So who should now renounce all this, why and for what should one risk one's precious life in defense of common values?"

When the pursuit of virtue is undone by materialism, words are redefined. Specifically, Solzhenitsyn suggested, freedom:

"Destructive and irresponsible freedom has been granted boundless space. Society appears to have little defense against the … misuse of liberty for moral violence against young people, such as motion pictures full of pornography, crime, and horror. It is considered to be part of freedom and theoretically counter-balanced by the young people's right not to look or not to accept … Such a tilt of freedom in the direction of evil … [was] born primarily out of a humanistic and benevolent concept according to which there is no evil inherent to human nature; the world belongs to mankind and all the defects of life are caused by wrong social systems which must be corrected."

Solzhenitsyn then specifically points a finger at the press:

"The press too, of course, enjoys the widest freedom. But what sort of use does it make of this freedom? … How many hasty, immature, superficial and misleading judgments are expressed every day, confusing readers, without any verification. The press can both simulate public opinion and miseducate it. Thus, we may see terrorists described as heroes, or secret matters pertaining to one's nation's defense publicly revealed, or we may witness shameless intrusion on the privacy of well-known people under the slogan: 'Everyone is entitled to know everything.' But this is a false slogan, characteristic of a false era. People also have the right not to know, and it is a much more valuable [right]. The right not to have their divine souls stuffed with gossip, nonsense, vain talk. A person who works and leads a meaningful life does not need this excessive burdening flow of information. … In spite of the abundance of information, or maybe because of it, the West has difficulties in understanding reality such as it is."

At the root of all of this, Solzhenitsyn suggested, is what he called "spiritual exhaustion":

"The human soul longs for things higher, warmer, and purer than those offered by today's mass living habits, introduced by the revolting invasion of publicity, by TV stupor, and by intolerable music … There are meaningful warnings that history gives a threatened or perishing society. Such are, for instance, the decadence of art, or a lack of great statesmen. There are open and evident warnings, too. The center of your democracy and of your culture is left without electric power for a few hours only, and all of a sudden, crowds of American citizens start looting and creating havoc. The smooth surface film must be very thin, and the social system quite unstable and unhealthy.

There is only one solution with which Solzhenitsyn left his audience:

"Even if we are spared destruction by war, our lives will have to change if we want to save life from self-destruction … If the world has not come to its end, it has approached a major turn in history, equal in importance to the turn from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. It will exact from us a spiritual upsurge: We shall have to rise to a new height of vision, to a new level of life where our physical nature will not be cursed as in the Middle Ages, but, even more importantly, our spiritual being will not be trampled upon as in the Modern era."

And then he concludes:

"No one on earth has any other way left but -- upward."

God help us.

This commentary first aired October 1, 2020

This week we take a look back at the most-talked-about BreakPoint commentaries from 2020, covering the key issues of this turbulent year.

The question most central to defining a worldview, other than "Who is God?" and "What does it mean to be human?" is "What's really wrong with the world?" It's a tricky question, because there are a lot of things wrong with the world. The question is, what is the core problem that needs to be addressed in the world, the root cause of evil and human suffering, and what solution can be offered to fix it?

For example, we should want to see justice flourish and racism of all kinds come to an end, especially in light of our nation's history and evidence that our African American neighbors are not treated equally before the law. But not everyone who talks about ending racism and creating justice means the same thing.

For a growing number of people, including some Christians with good motives, these goals are shorthand for an ideology that divides instead of reconciles, that sees people as either oppressed or oppressor rather than as divine image bearers created from "one blood."

The ideas of Critical Theory, especially since the horrific killing of George Floyd, have become a central part of our national conversation. Once largely limited to the academy, these ideas have trickled down the way ideas do, to the media, through popular culture, and into the cultural imagination. Even those not familiar with the term "critical theory" will likely recognize its central tenets.

Critical Theory originated with a group of political philosophers who applied Karl Marx's ideas about economics to society as a whole, especially across additional categories of class distinction, such as race, sex, and gender identity. The result was an all-encompassing worldview that purported to reveal hidden power structures behind society's problems and institutions, by dividing people along the lines of oppressed and oppressor.

As Colson Center Senior Fellow and historian Glenn Sunshine explained in a recent episode of The Theology Pugcast, Critical Theory, like the classical Marxism it borrows from, views human beings in purely materialist terms. So, according to Critical Theory our race, sexual orientation, gender identity aren't mere aspects of who we are, they are our defining characteristics. In each of these areas, we are either part of oppressed groups or we are oppressors.

According to critical theory, the oppressed group automatically has moral authority, while the oppressor group does not. Someone who is a racial minority or a sexual minority of some kind is automatically a victim of oppression and has claims against oppressors and the unearned privilege that makes their life easier (and this part is critical) at the expense of their oppressed neighbors.

Overlooked in this analysis are individual choices and life situations, which often has a far greater impact on a person's life. For example, whether or not a child grows up with a father is statistically more important than their ethnic identity. Other factors, such as religious commitment, education, sexual decisions, and family stability have profound power to shape the lives and futures as individuals, families, and whole communities.

Critical theory, however, ignores every other factor or squashes it into the oppressor-oppressed dynamic. This view distorts reality, and often turns on itself.

A recent article at Quillette described a Danish professor and critical theorist attacked by fellow critical theorists. They claimed his branch of Critical Theory was racist. This is no isolated case. Critical Theorists have produced scholarly articles and whole books claiming that everything from logic to math are tools of white, heteronormative oppression.

The problem, as is explained in a recent "What Would You Say" video, is that Critical Theory's answer to the question "what's wrong with the world" is just wrong. Specifically, critical theory gets the human condition wrong and the human problem wrong. As a result, its solutions are simplistic and, at times, dangerous. They're not compatible with Christianity, and we should reject them.

Now, to be clear, I believe racism still plagues our country, and is embedded in the hearts of individuals and in institutions and systems. We can reach this conclusion by care, by listening, and by statistical data, not to mention from how the Christian worldview describes the cause and condition of fallen humanity.

Too often, any attempt to listen and to engage the race issue is dismissed as critical theory. It's not. At the same time, Critical Theory's analysis and answers to the problem of racism violate what we know to be true about the human condition. Only the Biblical story frames for us human value, human sin, and human hope, which both allows us and calls us to confront racism wherever it rears its ugly head, without embracing a theory that sees people as nothing but their race.

This commentary first aired June 17, 2020

John and Shane highlight some of their most challenging and uplifting questions received in 2020.

This week we take a look back at the most-talked-about BreakPoint commentaries from 2020, covering the key issues of this turbulent year.

The news this week about COVID-19, known as the coronavirus, has certainly, to understate it, escalated: New infections, grimmer projections, lots and lots of cancellations (including—can you believe it?—March Madness). The news changes so quickly day by day, even hour by hour, that it's hard to keep up, much less know, really, what to think about all of this.

C.S. Lewis once said that we should read three old books for every new one. I think we should read three C.S. Lewis books for every new one. He never faced the coronavirus, of course, but in the late 1940s, the world was coming to grips with another threat: nuclear annihilation. The bomb was only a few years old, and in the hands of sworn national enemies. The uncertainty of what exactly could happen, not to mention what might happen, was palpable. In that context, C.S. Lewis wrote an essay entitled "On Living in an Atomic Age."

I'm grateful to one of my BreakPoint colleagues, Ashlee Cowles, for reminding us of this essay along with some sage advice: Whenever you hear "atomic bomb" in this essay, think "coronavirus."

"We think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb," Lewis begins. To those who wonder how it's possible to go on in the face of such a threat, Lewis recalls that theirs was not the first generation to live under a threatening shadow. In fact, if we're honest, we all live under a sentence of death, and for some of us, that death could even be "unpleasant."

The important question, says Lewis, is not whether or how we will die but if in the meantime we will be doing "sensible" and "human" things like "praying, working . . . reading, listening to music, bathing the children."

Lewis asks his readers to consider the important but unsettling truth that "Nature does not, in the long run, favor life." It's an ominous observation that points to an essential worldview truth: "If Nature is all that exists—in other words, if there is no God and no life of some quite different sort somewhere outside of Nature—then all stories "will end in the same way: in a universe from which all life is banished without the hope of return."

How do we respond to this unsettling truth? Lewis saw only three options: The first is suicide, something not uncommon in Britain of the 1940s and 50s. The second, "simply to have as good a time as possible. The universe is a universe of nonsense, but since you are here, grab what you can."

Of course, as Lewis noted, "there is, on these terms, so very little left to grab—only the coarsest sensual pleasures." Whether we're talking about sex or listening to music, the pleasure is diminished by the knowledge that any enjoyment we might derive are merely "illusions," the product of "irrational conditioning" determined by our genes.

The third response, Lewis said, is to "go down fighting," to live as if the universe has meaning. We can insist on being rational and merciful even when the universe is not. Of course, if we choose that option, there's no way to actually prevail against the "idiocy" of the universe—it would still win. Our insistence on being rational and merciful has no real justification.

The hopelessness of those three options should instead lead us to a different conclusion: "We must simply accept . . .," said Lewis, "that we are spirits, free and rational beings, at present inhabiting an irrational universe, and must draw the conclusion that we are not derived from it."

In other words, we must reject naturalism and embrace "a much earlier view:" biblical theism. It's the only grounds on which we can avoid the despair brought on by the knowing that we are under a "sentence of death," whatever form that death takes.

Lewis' words are just as relevant today as they were seven decades ago. For people who believe there is a God, doing the "sensible" and "human" things are possible because we have hope. For those who don't have that hope, no amount of toilet paper or cans of Spam stacked in the garage can make anyone truly safe, much less solve the ultimate question of meaning that haunts us all.

Today as yesterday, the world is still in God's hands. Nothing has changed. Whatever the next chapter of this coronavirus story might be, the same questions remain to us: Will we trust God? And then, will we love our neighbors? And finally, how shall we then live?

This commentary first aired March 13, 2020

What is it like to portray the lead character in the story of the entire universe? Today on the BreakPoint Podcast, Shane Morris welcomes Jonathan Roumie, who portrays Jesus on the extremely well-done and enormously successful video series, "The Chosen."

Roumie discusses the series's approach to the Gospels, to plausible "back stories" of the disciples, and how they wanted to focus on Christ's humanity–without underplaying the fact that He is the Son of God.

This week we take a look back at the most-talked-about BreakPoint commentaries from 2020, covering the key issues of this turbulent year.

In 2013, Rachel Campos-Duffy, a blogger on the Today Show's "Moms" site, described watching Beyonce's Super Bowl halftime performance as a "parenting challenge." The hyper-sensual show's half-dressed performers had left her kids with quizzical looks on their faces. Her eight-year-old simply said, "She looks weird."

I wish all of our kids were as confused by seeing something like that, but unfortunately, sexuality packaged as music and performance is an all-too-familiar part of our culture. After Beyonce's version in 2013, Campos-Duffy snarkily commented, "I half-expected a stripper pole to pop out of the platform..."

Well this past Sunday, that's exactly what happened. A stripper pole.

Sunday's Super Bowl halftime performance, featuring Jennifer Lopez and Shakira, was by far the raciest halftime since Beyonce. For the last several years, there's been a notable de-sensualization of not only Super Bowl halftimes but also Super Bowl commercials.

Even Lady Gaga was comparatively modest in her 2017 performance. It's almost as if the NFL and its network producers got the message from Campos-Duffy and millions of moms who complained about the visual assault on their children and families.

Well, until Sunday, that is, when the Super Bowl became yet another chapter in the ongoing sexualization of American culture, of women, and of kids. In the midst of our culture's ubiquitous calls to protect kids and women from abuse and harassment, especially in this #MeToo era, we pretend that as long as we call it "art" or "female empowerment," that this sort of overt sexualization will magically have none of the consequences we now complain about.

From the beginning, the sexual revolution has promised women that aggressively flaunting skin and sexuality was empowerment, and that divorcing sex from marriage and procreation would be a means to freedom. In reality, it was men who got what they wanted: sexual pleasure without the burden of commitment or requirement of chivalry.

For a brief moment a few years ago, it was almost as if that lie had been exposed. More and more women bravely came forward revealing how they'd been treated horrifically as "sexual objects" and such. But if Sunday's performance is any indication, we have not learned our lesson.

It's not only women who are victims of these bad ideas. Years ago, British Prime Minister David Cameron appointed a special adviser on the commercialization and sexualization of childhood because, "Our children are growing up in a very sexualized world."

That was an understatement even then. A far-more accurate description is that this is an out-of-control social experiment, and the guinea pigs are primarily our children. In addition to the predatory, hardcore pornography that haunts their devices and online lives, experimental theories about gender and sexuality haunt their education, and, as we saw Sunday, stripper poles and outfits haunt their so-called "art" and "entertainment."

Of course, J.Lo and Shakira were a throw-back to a couple decades ago, more for the Xers and Millennials than for the Gen Z'ers. Even so, remember that this performance was on prime-time network television. And check out the lyrics of Billie Ellish or Roddy Ricch, or Lizzo to see if anything has changed.

As my friend Tom Gilson wrote years ago on BreakPoint.org, ethics require that subjects of social experimentation give informed consent. But in our culture, adults force young people, who have no say in the matter, to go along with their fantasies, theories, and so-called expressions of empowerment and freedom. It's child abuse.

Just as with Beyonce back in 2013, there will be progressive voices, even so-called Christian ones, that will celebrate Sunday's performance as "empowering women and Latinas" (particularly the child-in-cages part). But using sexuality for power is a triumph for men, not for women, and certainly not for children—it only leads to their objectification and victimization.

After all, I doubt there were very many wives watching their husbands watch, or moms trying to keep their children from watching, Sunday's performance who felt empowered in any way.

This commentary first aired February 4, 2020

Shane Morris and Maria Baer join John Stonestreet to talk about the year 2020, and the numerous pre-existing conditions exposed by the pandemic and other trials that will remain critically important in 2021.

Societal trust has been eroding for a long time, but this year invaded our closest relationships, like churches and families. We saw just how many politicians and, for that matter Christians, consider church to be "non-essential." It isn't. And speaking of the Church, John, Shane, and Maria discuss the factors behind last year's scandals involving prominent Christian leaders.

And, of course, issues of race and justice, will re-emerge. The question is whether they'll be hijacked by wokeness, or actually addressed within a framework of human dignity and morality.

As always, they wrap up the episode with their recommendations for the week.