Fool’s Gold

When I was about 10, my sister and I got a small rock collecting kit. We thought it was pretty cool. It had a bunch of information about various rocks and minerals, tools to test the hardness, and, of course, several sample rocks and minerals. One of the items in the kit was pyrite, better known as fool’s gold.

Always an avid reader, I had heard of fool’s gold before, but I’d never actually seen it. I’d always wondered how people could possibly be fooled by a cheap substitute, until I saw its glittering reality.

Just as some hopeful prospectors are fooled by the glitter of pyrite, people looking for truth sometimes get fooled by pretty words that lack the substance of truth. The Bible has a number of warnings about false prophets and the danger of being led away from truth by false teaching.

We see one such incident in chapter 22 of 1 Kings. King Ahab of Israel proposes to King Jehoshaphat of Judah that they go to war against Syria in order to seize territory that had previously belonged to Israel. Jehoshaphat agrees, but he insists they first check with the prophets to see what God has to say about the battle. So Ahab does that:

Then the king of Israel gathered the prophets together, about four hundred men, and said to them, “Shall I go to battle against Ramoth-gilead, or shall I refrain?” And they said, “Go up, for the Lord will give it into the hand of the king.” (1 Kings 22:6 ESV)

Sounds pretty good. For some reason, Jehoshaphat asks if there are any other prophets to consult.  Ahab brings in Micaiah, who initially promises success as well, but eventually explains that God wants Ahab to attack Syria and to die in the attack. It’s good to remember here that Ahab has spent a lifetime opposing and displeasing God.

Now here’s the really interesting part to me: Ahab has brought in Micaiah and insisted that he tell the truth. But after Micaiah does exactly that, prophesying Ahab’s death, Ahab throws him in prison and goes out to fight—and dies as his army flees.

We can learn a couple of things from Ahab’s bad example.First, the majority isn’t necessarily right. We have some 400 prophets promising success and just one warning of destruction. Ahab goes with the majority, which feels right from our democratic point of view, but the majority in this case is very wrong.

That’s a truth that should be familiar to us. Jesus warns us, “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few” (Matthew 7:13-14 ESV)

Perhaps it’s worth noting that the following verse is a warning about false prophets, wolves in sheep’s clothing. The point is that important matters of faith can’t be decided by looking at the majority. They can only be decided by those in a close relationship with God who are examining the Scriptures and praying.

The second thing to learn from Ahab is that the truth may be unpalatable. As I read the passage, I think Ahab knows Micaiah is the one who is right, the one who has actually heard the truth. So why does he reject it? I think it can only be because that truth is unappealing.

False teachers who tell us what we don’t want to hear aren’t much of a danger. It’s the ones who tell us exactly what we want to hear that we must watch out for. Lessons from teachers who tell us that the Christian life is easy and that we will be richly blessed with material things are attractive, but they don’t line up with the many warnings about suffering and persecution. Those who say we have no obligation to God once we accept salvation sound really good, but that message doesn’t match what Paul and James have to say. Paul tells us to work out our salvation, walking in the good works God created us to do. James points out the uselessness of a faith that does not have an active response in good deeds. 

I could go on, but I could never catalog all of the false teaching out there. Instead, we must compare each teaching with the Biblical message.

There is one other way to recognize false teachers, one given to us by Jesus himself in that passage in Matthew 7 about false prophets in sheep’s clothing. He tells us to look at their fruits. The false ones will bear bad fruit. The prophets and teachers who should be trusted live lives that demonstrate their close relationship with Christ. 

We should all work to avoid being fooled by those who offer us pyrite in place of true gold.

Image by Florian Pircher from Pixabay

 

Grief and Hope

Last week, I got the news again: one of my missionary uncles had passed away. One of the sad realities of getting older is that the people I care about are also getting older. Although death can come at any age, it seems to come more frequently to those around me lately.

As Christians, I think it can be difficult to maintain the right perspective on death. Sometimes we make too little of it with cavalier words of “comfort” about heaven to those suffering loss. Heaven is real, but so are the loss and the grief. I think the Bible acknowledges that. Look at Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus: he first meets with Martha, listens to her words of blame, and reassures her that Lazarus will rise again. After that, he goes on to Mary and listens to her blaming him, but then he is so moved to compassion by her grief and that of the others with her that we get that famous shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Jesus knows what he’s about to do. He has already talked to Martha about resurrection, though she certainly didn’t think he meant it would happen that day. But the reality of their grief is such that observing it moves Christ to tears.

I think it is important for us to acknowledge the reality of grief and not expect those closest to a death to jump straight to the joy of heaven. They are still on earth, and the loss of the person on earth is real. On the other hand, the grief upon the death of a Christian is not without hope.

A few months ago, I attended a memorial service that was unusual for me in that it was one of very few I have attended for someone who was not a Christian. It was by far the saddest memorial service I can remember, and not because of the level of grief or my own personal loss. This particular death will have little impact on my daily life, and, for at least some of those present, the biggest struggle was with ambivalent feelings toward the deceased. Rather, it was sad because there was nowhere to look but in the past.

I found myself contrasting this experience with other funerals I have attended. In some, the grief was very great and very deep, such as when my cousin died very suddenly, leaving behind two children and her mother. Yet, in all of them, there was an element that was missing from the one this summer.

Paul tells the Thessalonians, “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 ESV).

Even in deep grief, we know that there is a future; we can–and should–have hope. And it is this hope that should (and typically does) set a Christian funeral apart. While we acknowledge the loss and grieve the departed, we celebrate the hope that was in them and is in us.

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (John 11:25 ESV)

 

 

Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

Gentleness and Respect

I seldom find myself in agreement with Ellen DeGeneres, but her words in response to the apparent furor over the picture of her laughing with former President George W. Bush are words that many of us should take to heart, especially those of us who call ourselves Christians, as she suggested that we should be kind to everyone, not just those who think like us.

It becomes more and more clear that we live in a society with deep divisions and that social media interaction often fans the flames of hatred between various groups. I can easily see that on my own Facebook news feed. My friends range from teenagers to people in their 90s, from committed Christ-followers to nominal Christians to agnostics to atheists, with a variety of Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and others added in, and from the far left to the far right on the political spectrum.  Relationships accumulate after 55 years, especially when you’ve lived in a lot of different places.

Because of that variety, I’ve witnessed a wide range of discussions on controversial topics, some polite, some—shall we say—less so. Some have been downright vitriolic. But the ones that break my heart are those in which rudeness and hatred are spewed in the name of Christianity. Those break my heart because I believe that they break the heart of God.

As Christians, we are supposed to be salt and light; we are supposed to share our faith. But sometimes we forget how we’re supposed to do it. Simon Peter was the brashest of the disciples, regularly speaking up when perhaps he shouldn’t have while Jesus was still on earth. He remained bold and outspoken after the ascension. These are his words about speaking up about our faith:

But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame. (1 Peter 3:14-16 ESV)

The emphasis is mine, but this is not an isolated concept in the New Testament. Yes, Jesus did show anger and called people out, but those words and actions were directed at religious hypocrites. When he dealt with adulterers, dishonest tax-collectors, and all of the other sinners that the Pharisees criticized him for spending time with, he spoke truth with compassion and kindness.

We see the same thing in Paul’s sermon in Athens in Acts 17. Here he is, standing in a center of idolatry, but he doesn’t spend his words calling out the sin. Instead, he finds common ground and takes the opportunity to tell them about the true God, the creator of the universe. Yes, he calls the people to repentance and new life, but not by dwelling on their wrongdoing.

Here’s a reality: if you believe in the Bible and follow Christ in good conscience in this world, you will have trouble at some point. Peter, Paul, and James all echo the words of Jesus on this subject. Part of our calling is a calling to suffer for Christ’s sake.

When the trouble comes, when people ridicule us for our beliefs, it is tempting to get defensive and respond with hurtful words. But that’s not of the Spirit, ever. And, really, these attacks cannot hurt us in any meaningful way. We are sojourners. This is not our home. Those attacking us cannot take away anything that truly matters unless we let them.

It is not our job to force people to agree with our beliefs or to convict people of their sin. It is our job to love all people, to hold fast to Christ and biblical truth, and to respond always in truth and compassion.

Sometimes (too rarely) on Facebook, I see Christians responding gently with truth and sometimes (even more rarely) see people begin to engage with the substance of scripture. I never see this kind of engagement when a Christian speaks rudely or with hatred.

These social media interactions remind me of the two kinds of campus evangelists I have observed over the years. The first kind comes and stands somewhere and shouts at the students about their sin, usually focusing on presumed sexual sin, calling them out for the clothing, and generally castigating everyone in the crowd at length. That type gathers large crowds of hecklers, but I’ve never seen a real conversation some out of those interactions, and I’ve never met anyone who was won to Christ by such tactics. The second kind waits for opportunities to talk with students, engaging them individually or in very small groups. This type has quiet conversations, sometimes quite lengthy ones. They never gather a crowd. They’re often completely unnoticed by many. But I have met people who found Christ as a result of such conversations.

Of course, it’s much easier to be the first kind of evangelist on social media, because the people we are talking to seem less real. Even when they are people we know, we may not have seen them for years, and they’re certainly not standing right in front of us. But the person behind the other keyboard is real: they are someone God created and loves deeply. 

Which kind of evangelist do we really want to be?

 

Photo by Christin Hume on Unsplash