Breakpoint

Christians are, according to Paul, reconciled in order to become reconcilers (2 Cor. 5). Though we know the brokenness in the world and in the human heart will not be fully overcome until the day every knee bows to Christ as Lord, we also model today what that restored world will look like, even if only on a small level.

In every age and era of history, there are examples of reconciliation and restoration in the midst of brokenness. Including right now.

In communities across the country, including Grand Rapids, Michigan and Atlanta, Georgia, volunteers and churches are cleaning up their communities after riots. One Christian from Atlanta described the work this way, “We feel like it's our duty as Christ followers to not only stand up for justice but to also stand up for our city. One of the ways we get to express that is by helping to clean up and rebuilding."

Eighteen-year old Buffalo resident Antonio Gwynn worked for ten hours, starting at 2am, to clean up after rioting had trashed the streets of his community. Why? Because, as he reportedly told CNN, people needed to get to work. Fellow resident Matt Block was so touched by Gwynn’s efforts, he gave him a Mustang convertible sports car. Another local businessman heard the story and offered a year of auto insurance, and a local college offered him a full-ride scholarship. By the way, according to a local news story, Gwynn seems to be very involved in church.

Speaking of which, churches in Minneapolis have increased their efforts to provide food to those in need, especially targeting those neighborhoods that have become virtual “food deserts” because of the vandalism and destruction closing down local stores. Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Minneapolis turned its church building into a medic station.

Another remarkable scene in several cities across America is police and protesters crossing lines to communicate, pray, and even march together. An especially powerful example took place at a protest in Fort Worth, which seemed to be on the verge of violence. Police Chief Ed Krause and Assistant Chief Julie Swearingin made their way through the crowd, met with protestors, knelt, and joined them in prayer. A protestor who tried to disrupt the prayers was shut down by other protestors.

Assistant Chief Swearingin’s prayer was especially moving. “We’re asking for your protection for all these people here, Lord . . . We are all your children, Lord, and we ask for understanding and peace, Lord.” Though Swearingen claims she had never intended to become a cop, she now believes, as she told the Star Telegraph “this was God’s plan for me.”

Churches in Chattanooga, having mobilized just a few months ago to help those impacted by a night of devastating tornadoes, united again, this time for a prayer rally for racial reconciliation. One pastor said afterward, “We’re committing ourselves to not only pray and speak to God and ask God to move, but then after we have prayed to God, we’re committing ourselves to move also to develop relationships to break down the walls of racism and injustice by letting our light shine in this dark time.” 

Pastors from the Hampton Roads area of Virginia gathered in Virginia beach for a foot-washing ceremony. A local television station reported, “First, the African American pastors had their feet washed by the other pastors; then, they reciprocated the gesture.”

Transform Minnesota, “an evangelical organization that brings pastors together to wrestle with social issues” held a Zoom meeting with more than 250 pastors to wrestle with the current social issues they struggle with.” Even as they discussed practical help, from supplying baby formula to cleaning up debris, an African American Baptist pastor reminded the group, “What we need are partners . . .Yes, we need your help cleaning up. Yes, we need your resources. But we also need long-term partners who are going to help us stand up for God and tear down the systems that hold people down.”

Francis of Assisi famously prayed “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where this is hatred, let me bring love . . . Where there is discord, let me bring union.” Repairing damage, cleaning up debris, praying, partnering, intentionally creating lines of communication and building bridges across divides are all ways to become instruments of peace.

And they are clear and practical answers to the question so many people are asking right now, “But what can I do? I can’t change anything.” The lesson for all of us is rather than focusing on what we can’t do, let’s do what we can do… and let’s do what we can do in Jesus’ name.

Since the horrific killing of George Floyd, the moral outrage in our nation is palpable. Moral consensus, however, is not. While some cry out against violence by police, others cry out against violence against police. Systemic racism is either the most important problem we face, some say, or it doesn’t exist at all, others say. We must defund the police, according to some, and we must support the police, according to others.

Certainly, the debates over what exactly is wrong with this world and what must be done to fix it will continue.  In the meantime, we ought not miss what the moral outrage, even when wrongly conceived or violently expressed, reveals about who we are and the kind of world we live in.

In his discussion of morality and the meaning of the universe in Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis observed that humans are irrepressibly moral creatures. We believe that there is such a thing in the world as justice. That we protest when we see behavior we believe to be unjust, especially when directed at us, reveals that we believe there is a way the world should be. “A man does not call a line crooked,” Lewis wrote, “unless he has some idea of a straight line.”

But where does even that idea of a moral straight line, of justice and morality, come from?  Why do we even think in terms of justice and morality in the first place? Any naturalistic worldview, built on atheism and concluding the world is merely a product of natural causes and forces, cannot explain the existence of justice and morality.

In fact, not only does such a world not offer any grounding for the very ideas of justice and morality, but it can’t explain why we would think in those terms. “If the whole universe has no meaning,” Lewis wrote, “we should never have found out that it has no meaning; just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.”

But not only do we clearly believe that justice and morality exist in the world, and that we can know what is just and right, we think others should know it too.  Lewis unpacks this brilliantly: “Whenever you find a man who says he does not believe in a real Right and Wrong, you will find the same man going back on this a moment later. He may break his promise to you, but if you try breaking one to him, he will be complaining ‘It’s not fair’ before you can say Jack Robinson.”

The protesting and rioting and angry social media posting and breathless news reporting run the gamut of helpful to unhelpful, righteous anger to unrighteous opportunism. And yet, we are seeing across the nation and around the world, a fundamental feature of humankind and the world we live in. There is an expectation that such a thing as justice exists, and that it should be done. 

Clearly, this reveals the silliness and bankruptcy of moral relativism, in which every act is simply a matter of preference and convenience. You’ll never see anyone taking to the streets carrying signs that say, “End police brutality. It’s inconvenient.”

Lewis concludes his discussion of the moral law by wrestling with the desire we hold for a world in which justice is actually done, in which no one is ever murdered and in which racism and violence against innocents are unthinkable. Our ability to imagine this world in which wrongs are all made right reveals much about us, too.

Later in Mere Christianity, Lewis argues that no human longings exist unless its fulfillment also exists. “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy,” Lewis wrote, “the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

So, we live in a world where the very ideas of justice and morality exist. We are creatures able to think in terms of justice and morality, expect others to as well, and who imagine a better world, in which all wrongs are made right and justice prevails.

What explains this?

Atheism cannot. Eastern pantheisms that ultimately fail to distinguish between good and evil cannot. But, a good God, Who is the ultimate source of reality and creates us in His image, giving us moral freedom, and promising to restore all things? That explains it.

A new video released by the Center for Medical Progress, the group behind the 2015 undercover videos showing Planned Parenthood negotiating the sale of fetal body parts, has the nation’s largest abortion provider once again denying, hedging, and using phrases like “doctored” and “heavily edited.”

Five years ago, Planned Parenthood denied what videos clearly showed, executives at varying levels of leadership negotiating prices for fetal body parts. They denied it in media and in congressional testimony. When unedited videos debunked their denials, they insisted that all money received for fetal body parts was really for “shipping and handling.” Finally, they decided to sue the messengers.

That decision may turn out to be a big mistake on their part, since it gave the Center for Medical Progress a chance to question Planned Parenthood employees under oath. That questioning was recorded and has now been released. Thus, viewers can now watch people who had denied all wrongdoing squirm when confronted with the evidence.

One segment of the video features an official from Planned Parenthood Gulf Coast who is shown a proposed contract for the purchase of fetal body parts. When the original video was released five years ago, Planned Parenthood officials told The New York Times that the offer had been rejected. The deposition, however, tells a different story. Under oath, the official acknowledged wanting to pursue the deal and communicating this desire to another Planned Parenthood official.

In another part of the video, the claim that any money received by the organization was only for reimbursement of expenses, which federal law allows, is actually not true, either. In fact, the contract with the biomedical company StemExpress stipulated that payment was contingent on Planned Parenthood providing “usable body parts,” in addition to accounting for time and transportation costs. The deposed official did not deny any of this. Well, she could not deny any of this. It was in writing.

As for any attempt at a “rogue affiliate” defense, as if these officials were acting on their own, Planned Parenthood’s Medical Director Dr. Deborah Nucatola testified, under oath, that she was aware that the Los Angeles affiliate was being paid for fetal body parts.

In his statement accompanying the video release, Center for Medical Progress director David Daleiden said what is clear: “Planned Parenthood lied to the public and to Congress” about selling “fetal body parts, commodifying living children in the womb and treating pregnant women like a cash crop.” He added, “The time has come for federal consequences for Planned Parenthood,” and for the Justice Department to “escalate the enforcement of laws against fetal trafficking to the highest level of priority.”

If the past few years are any indicator, this is unlikely to happen. In the past two years, Planned Parenthood not only hasn’t been defunded, as was promised repeatedly, its federal funding went from $555 million in the last year of the Obama administration, to $617 million in the most recent fiscal year.  That amounts to an 11 percent increase in federal funding, the largest increase in Planned Parenthood’s history.  Adding insult to injury, Planned Parenthood affiliates reportedly received $80 million in forgivable Paycheck Protection Program loans., which were intended to help small businesses and nonprofits weather coronavirus-related shutdowns.

Several lawmakers have called for an investigation, and the Trump administration has demanded Planned Parenthood return the money. At the risk of repetition, that’s not likely to happen.

Because of the important work of the Center for Medical Progress, Planned Parenthood’s guilt in selling fetal body parts and lying about it, consistently, couldn’t be clearer. What happens next, however, is out of David Daleiden and CMP’s hands.

The ability of Planned Parenthood to, literally and figuratively, get away with murder, for so long, leads me to believe that it is somehow protected by supernatural evil forces. I don’t say that lightly. So, if there are going to be “federal consequences,” pro-life Christians must demand more than political theater from our elected officials. If there are going to be permanent temporal consequences, the Spirit of God will have to break the strange, deadly strongholds Planned Parenthood and abortion have on America’s moral imagination.

What we can be sure of is there will be eternal consequences. God will not hold guiltless those who take innocent life, nor those who enable it by their silence.

Late last week the Colson Center hosted a special live conversation and Q&A with Pastor Chris Brooks of Moody Radio and apologist/writer Andy Crouch about how we as Christians can respond to the killing of George Floyd and the protests and violence that have swept the nation.

Both Chris and Andy have been participants in our “Truth Love Together” event, which is now in week 4.  Please, come to Conference.ColsonCenter.org to view all of our speakers and modules.

“Equipped–with Pastor Chris Brooks,” Moody Radio

Andy Crouch website

Join us for our “Truth Love Together” Virtual Event!

Last week, a pair of activists launched a social media campaign that quickly went from advocacy to unintentional irony. To show solidarity with African American victims of police brutality, the women encouraged Instagrammers, especially major corporations, to post a black square in lieu of a picture, in order to leave space on the platform for people of color.

As well-intentioned as Blackout Tuesday was, as people across the country continue to express outrage over the police killing of George Floyd, it started to unravel nearly as fast as it caught on. Upon further reflection, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to ask people to post in order to show how they weren’t going to post.

Nor was it practical. So many individual and company Instagrammers posted black squares, that entire portions of the site went essentially blank. If the intent was, as described, to amplify black voices, a sea of black squares drowned them out instead.

Blackout Tuesday is the latest example of what’s called “hashtag activism,” or internet advocacy. Now that social media operates within our culture like a public square, it only makes sense that people would take to their keyboards when they want social change. Unfortunately, if that’s where our activism begins and ends, as it far too often is, we’re guilty of a category mistake. We’re treating Twitter (say that fast five times) as if it’s the real world. It’s not.

In fact, Twitter, like the rest of social media, is actually an infinitesimally small slice of the real world. As economist Arthur Brooks pointed out last year, only 22 percent of American adults are on Twitter at all, only 7 percent are active, and 80 percent of all tweets come from only 10 percent of them. (And about half of those come from Ed Stetzer.)

In no way am I suggesting that advocating online is always meaningless or silly. It’s not wrong in and of itself, but it is wrong by itself. It is no substitute for actual, embodied kingdom-building engagement. Just look at the stats. The most-followed person on Twitter only reaches two out of ten of their neighbors, and that’s only if they are on Twitter too. And even then, you’re just talking in a one-directional, one-sentence-at-a-time way.

Blackout Tuesday reminded me of a similar phenomenon that followed 9/11, something Neil Postman warned of in his book Amusing Ourselves to Death. Of course, social media wasn’t around in 2001 but, as Americans everywhere struggled to make sense of what had happened, we started conflating “staying informed” with “doing something.” Maybe it was because we felt powerless or confused about what exactly we could do, but we were still wrong. The 3.0 version of that same mistake today is imagining that posting online is the best we can do.

Another problem with treating Twitter as if it is the real world is that it’s not clear who sets the rules. Social media often behaves as a mob. Mobs, as several business owners learned the hard way over the years and especially last week, are notoriously fickle.

Some businesses that did participate in Blackout Tuesday by posting a black square were accused of co-opting a social movement to attract customers. But businesses that didn’t participate were accused of cowardice or complicity in racism. On Twitter it was the same thing. Some who have spoken out explicitly against racism were criticized for not doing it earlier, or for not doing it at just the right time, or for virtue signaling, or for lacking the authority to speak on the issue because they weren’t people of color. But, nearly everyone on Twitter felt the pressure of having to post something.

It’s enough to baffle even the most well-meaning advocates.

Treating Twitter as the real world leads us to conclude two things that just aren’t true. First, everyone must say something, and to not post something is to be a Bad Person. Second, that posting something is to have Done Something. Professor Walter Strickland at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary put it this way - and yes, he posted this on Twitter: “You are not a social media handle. Don’t feel pressure to post and repost everything to show that you care. Advocate locally. Be incarnate.”

Indeed. The messier, tougher approach to loving God and loving others, which takes a lot more energy but is far more effective and life-living, is to do our community-building and truth-telling and others-loving offline.

As I tell folks when I speak, if you’re on Twitter, you can follow me @jbstonestreet. If you’re not on Twitter, don’t start.

Last week, a listener who follows a lot of Christian podcasts, including BreakPoint, wrote us with the following question, troubled by the conflicting opinions among Christians. Here’s how she put it:

“In most cases the Christians proponents seem to have a genuine love for Jesus and are trying to live out their belief faithfully. Yet their conclusions and interpretation of the Scriptures are often diametrically opposed…If intelligent, well educated, sincere Christians can come to such different interpretations of Scripture, how can I possibly hope to come to a correct understanding of the Truth?”

Given the hurt, anger, and even violence on streets across America right now, not to mention all of our social media news feeds, I imagine this person isn’t the only one wondering about the unity that Christ prayed for in the Garden, as recorded in John 17.  “All mine are yours,” Jesus prayed, “and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them. And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one.”

Why Christians don’t get along is certainly not a new question, but I do think it’s changed a bit. As recently as a couple years ago, the struggle was mostly about theological positions or denominational points of emphasis. Today, the context has more to do with politics and culture. This is not to say that the stakes are higher now than then or vice versa. Because Christianity is, at heart, a worldview centered on the incarnation of the Son of God, both what you believe and how you live matter.  There’s a substance and an application to our biblical and theological understanding.

One feature of today’s discourse, however, is how quickly conflict can escalate, and not just in tone but also in assuming bad character of others. We welcome feedback on our BreakPoint commentaries and, of course, we get it. Last week, many people took issue with one commentary in particular, for which I am solely responsible. I expected and received disagreement, as well as some name calling (my favorite was “Biden-supporter”) and accusations about my character.

Now, to be perfectly clear, I slept just fine. The larger point is that the cliché, that Christians are better known for what we’re against than what we are for, needs to be updated. Increasingly today, we are better known for being against each other than for each other. Not only does this cripple what Jesus said would be among the most effective tools of Christian witness to the world, “by this all people will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another,” but it can harm the faith of some within the Church as well.

Love, and we must be clear about this, should never be reduced to mere niceness.  Nor does it mean that we should never disagree with one another. Ideas have consequences and bad ideas have victims.  There’s too much at stake. Still, if we’re to follow Fr. Robert Sirico’s counsel to “be ruthless with ideas and gentle with people” there are a few things to keep in mind.

First, though it seems that Christians disagree on much, we actually agree on most of the core tenants of the Christian faith.  Theologically speaking, we may differ on who to baptize when, but Christians largely agree on what baptism is about. We might disagree on which aspects of the Holy Spirit’s work to emphasize today, but not that the Holy Spirit is working. We agree that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, that He died on the cross and rose from the dead, sits at the right hand of the throne of God, and is Lord of Lords. Our disagreements, of course, matter. And sometimes, theological error pushes some outside of anything that can rightly be called orthodox, but the Church has been largely consistent on the most important theological doctrines.

Second, those theological convictions that are core, should be kept that way. Today, too many secondary issues, especially on how best to apply Christian morality and truth to the public square, have been made primary. Now hear me clearly, secondary issues are important as well, and we should debate them. Those ideas have consequences and victims, too. But we are far too quick to make secondary issues primary and to dismiss those on the other side of us as being evil.

Finally, the Scriptures are just as clear about how we are to communicate what is true as it is that we should to communicate what is true. The fourth module of our Truth.Love.Together event is all about how we can speak the truth in love. Launching the module is the one and only Lee Strobel, who talks about being better salt and brighter light. Also presenting is Obianuju Ekeocha one of the leaders of the pro-life movement in Africa. She talks about why speaking the truth is an act of love.

We need to get better at this. In a world that is hesitant to embrace anything as true, we must show them how to do it. Atheist philosopher Frederick Nietzsche once remarked, “All truths are bloody truths to me.” That doesn’t strike me as a Christian sentiment. Certainly all truth is worth standing for and, sometimes, fighting for. But not all of our convictions are worth wounding others for.

Truth, Love, Together. That’s the theme of the Colson Center’s 4-week long virtual event featuring 20 of the leading Christian worldview thinkers.

We’re now into module 4, “Telling the Truth in Love.” And today on the BreakPoint Podcast we have an outstanding presentation by cold-case detective and apologist extraordinaire, J. Warner Wallace entitled, “The Case for Speaking Unpopular Truths.”

Join us for Module 4 of our  “Truth Love Together” Event!

John Stonestreet and Shane Morris discuss the chaotic events of the last week, from the killing of George Floyd, to riots and looting in our cities, to questions of systemic racism. How are we to make sense of all this as Christians? And what image from the last week--that of the policeman with his knee on Floyd's neck, that of the riots, the President and the Bible--will define this era for future generations?

John and Shane also discuss the demonstrations in Hong Kong on the anniversary of Tiananmen  Square.

We wrap up today's show with a snippet of Andy Crouch's presentation at our "Truth Love Together" event, and John  Stonestreet answering a couple of tough questions about President Trump holding up the Bible, and how we can know what's true when Christians disagree on so much.

“George Floyd dying, rioters looting: What image will decide our future?” by Joe Ferullo, The Hill

“The  People the World Needs,” video presentation by Andy Crouch at the “Truth. Love. Together.” virtual event.

“Our World Split Apart and the Hope of Pentecost,” by John Stonestreet, BreakPoint

“COVID-19, Depression, and Suicide,” by John Stonestreet and Roberto Rivera

“Hong Kong’s Lessons for Beijing and the West,” by John Stonestreet and Roberto Rivera, BreakPoint

“Why the Bible Is not a Prop,” by John Stonestreet, BreakPoint

From the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, experts warned of its impact on people with mental illnesses.  For those with mood disorders, the pandemic packed a “one-two” punch: the depression and anxiety caused by the fear of contracting the coronavirus itself, and the depression and anxiety accelerated by measures taken to combat the spread of the coronavirus. Even the wide use of the term “social distancing” instead of the more accurate “physical distancing” communicated isolation and the loneliness.

Add to all that canceled appointments with psychiatrists and therapists, and we should expect a steep decline in mental health. Which is exactly what happened.

A recent Census Bureau survey of 42,000 adults found that “24% of [the respondents] showed clinical signs of severe depression, and 30% showed signs of anxiety.” According to the study, “The rate of anxiety and depression were highest among young adults, women, and the poor.” To put these numbers in better context, half of American adults said that they had felt depressed during the pandemic, while only a quarter reported similar feelings in a survey done six years ago.

Things could even be worse than this survey, which was conducted between May 7th and May 12th, suggests. After all, three more weeks of social isolation and disruption could not have made things better. As the Washington Post said, “the results reflect a deepening of existing trends,” such as “rising depression, stress, and suicide," especially among young adults. Writers in the Journal of the American Medical Association call the combination of COVID-19 factors with already existing suicide mortality trends, “a perfect storm.”

Perhaps. It will be a while before we can say with any certainty if and how COVID-19 affected suicide rates. What we do know is that COVID-19 is attacking a nation already emotionally and mentally fragile.

This fragility is, as we often say of other things, downstream from the rest of culture. Some of what makes people depressed and anxious is biology, but much of it has to do with how we are made to live. As one doctor put it, riffing on John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address, we “should ask not what’s inside our heads, but, instead, we should ask what our heads are inside of.”

The most obvious example is loneliness, something we’ve repeatedly discussed in previous BreakPoint commentaries.  Societies like ours are, by most accounts, loneliness-producing machines. Our deeply-rooted sense of individualism is only made worse by our growing preference for virtual relationships instead of face-to-face ones. Add that to the fact that, for many, upward economic mobility requires severing ties to those people and communities that gave us a sense of belonging, purpose, and security.

On average, the number of close friends Americans have, “confidants with whom (to) discuss important matters,” went from about three in 1985 to about one in 2006. It’s difficult to guess what that number might be at the beginning of 2020.

With social isolation and, as the Journal put it, “decreased access to community and religious support," the phrase “perfect storm” is less a cliché, and more a reality.

This is part of the plague that Christians, of all people, should be running into. Reaching out to the hurting among us doesn’t require state permission, and we do have the means to keep physical distancing from becoming social isolation. Part of this includes educating ourselves about signs of depression, and steps to take to help those struggling. There’s no shortage of educational resources online. And, not only can we pray for those people that are hurting, we can tell them we are praying for them.

To be sure, this pandemic will pass. When it does and we begin to again move about the country, it will be easy to forget the hurting and the lonely. We must not.

God help us to be people who won’t forget.