REMANATIONS

In order to avoid certain misunderstandings, it will be helpful to reflect about terms before diving into this particular topic. The word “unintended” above is important (and intentional). It’s meant to communicate that the issues about to be addressed are done inadvertently and without malice. I plan to raise what I consider to be important questions—and criticisms—about certain practices, particularly within the church, and anytime that you do such a thing, you risk unnecessarily dividing the body. Hopefully, this short word about definitions will keep things in the proper light.

Such a disclaimer is necessary because modern Christians, like most people in history, understand all criticisms of practice to be accusations against character. In other words, all criticism involves the impugning of wrong motives. And because the Christians engaged in such practices are often well-meaning, the questioner/critic is immediately dismissed as a trouble-maker.

Thus, I wish to make it clear from the outset that I know good and well that many of the Christians engaged in the issues to follow are well-intentioned, well-meaning, and overall “good folks.”

And this surely counts for something. The motive of the heart matters to God. But it is not all that matters. There is a saying—I think it’s from the book of Leviticus—about a certain road paved with good intentions. Needless to say, the people who built that road had no idea where they were going to end up. But end up there they did. And this is because God, while putting a premium on motive and intent, doesn’t only look at motive intent. The consequences matter as well.

A simple parable will illustrate this at once. Imagine a young child, sick at home with a fever. The doctor is called to the house. (This story obviously takes place back when such visits were common). After examining the child, he reaches into his bag for the necessary medicine and inadvertently pulls out the painkillers for ol’ Mrs. Jones hip replacement, which, while perfectly fine for dulling the senses of a 68 year-old, are toxic to little boys. Failing to notice his mistake, the good doctor proceeds to administer the medication. I won’t finish the story (though I will say that it has a happy ending), but I would like to point out that the doctor’s good intentions to make the child well are quite beside the point. He is giving him the wrong medicine with potentially disastrous effects. He is making a mistake and he is responsible precisely because he should’ve been paying attention.

In this parable, I am the novice apprentice of our good doctor, raising questions about the funny bottle he pulled out of the bag. I know that he means well and that he’s trying to help. If I thought he was malicious, I wouldn’t be asking the questions; I’d just knock him down and call the police. But I do have questions and concerns and I hope that such questions and concerns will be met with humble wrestlings rather than cavalier dismissals. So as we begin to wrestle with complicated questions about church practice, believe me when I say that I’m not fundamentally addressing motives and intent. There is a time and place for that and, if we’re lucky, we may get there. But in the meantime let us try to deal with consequences, both real and potential, however unintended they may be.