Kirk E. Miller

05/11/2024

Some thoughts on courage—𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 courage:

Some Christians today brand themselves as the truly courageous. They accuse others of being too afraid to say hard things, the sorts of things that would offend. Such people want the world's approval, or so it's alleged.

No doubt seeking the world's approval can be a real temptation that stifles courage, a refusal to say things that might offend. But at the same time, neither is it “courageous” to make well-produced marketing videos saying things that certain Christians want to hear, so as to gain yourself a following, building yourself a platform.

You want to know what's truly courageous? Going against the status quo of your own group. That will actually cost you something.

And ironically, some of the very people of accused of lacking courage are so accused precisely because they had the courage to speak against the status quo of their own. They're accused of lacking courage precisely because they had the courage.

The same folks who critique seeker sensitive evangelicalism for being too "soft," lacking a confrontational edge, turn around an offer their own version of seeker-sensitivity, just for the dissident and cantankerous who resonate with their grievances, complaints, and bluster. Sure, you might be offensive (to the "right sort of people"). But, no, that doesn't make you courageous.

Regarding pastors specifically (and I say this from experience): Believe it or not, I actually think many pastors 𝙖𝙧𝙚 quite willing to preach and speak out on controversial things—just selectively, only on those things they deem "worth it." It's stuff that's controversial to people 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 the church (“the culture”), but not to the majority of people sitting in the pews. It's controversial to the “right sort of people,” but not the people most immediate to them.

It's the conveniently controversial, because speaking out on such things conveys courage—it presents as if one is willing to say the hard things—when in fact such sermons take no courage at all. In fact, they take the 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 amount courage. They're the easiest to deliver, because you know it tickles your people’s ears; it’s what they want to hear; it will bring praise and commendation for how "courageous" you are—all for saying exactly what they wanted you to say.

Rather, the truly courageous sermons are the ones that you know your people may not like but need to hear anyways.

03/11/2024

"Most political judgments we make depend on wisdom not on directly applying explicit biblical principles. To put this another way, there is some space between our biblical and theological principles and our specific political judgments. Two Christians might agree on a biblical or theological principle but disagree on which policies, methods, tactics, or timing best uphold that principle. (pp. 18) … Political judgments depend on figuring out how to apply our biblical and ethical principles to the vast and complex set of circumstances that surround every political decision. (21) … Remembering this should create some room for charity and forbearance. (24–25)

We have his Book. [God] has revealed himself. That’s amazing, isn’t it? Yet a huge danger looms. We get into a political argument in which we’re telling someone what we think. But we also have a Bible in our hands, and so we begin to blur the lines between what we think and what God thinks. … To avoid confusing our thoughts with God’s thoughts, therefore, we must treat God’s Book with holy reverence and fear. We must take great care to distinguish its authoritative and inerrant wisdom from our own. (44–45)"

—Jonathan Leeman and Andy Naselli, How Can I Love Church Members with Different Politics?

01/11/2024

How can Christians pray for the upcoming election? Some suggestions:

• Pray for political peace and stability that provides a platform for the gospel to spread (1 Tim 2:1–4).

• Pray for a peaceful and clear electoral process (Jer 29:7). Pray that all would acknowledge its results and not resort to violence or destruction (e.g., rioting, insurrection).

• Thank God for all those who invested in the political process (e.g., candidates, canvassers, poll workers, etc.) Regardless of their positions, we at least thank God for the fact that they show concern for the welfare of our society. That's a common grace (Rom 2:14–16).

• Pray for wisdom for the soon-to-be-elected officials, that they would fear God (Prov 8:14-16; 9:10), acknowledge Christ as the true king (Ps 2), and lead accordingly.

• Pray especially for the poor, oppressed, and vulnerable (e.g., the unborn, refugees, those in poverty, those affected by international conflict), that our political decisions would not negatively affect them, but instead might actually aid them and alleviate their conditions (Isa 1:17).

• Pray for your congregation, that it would remain united in the matters that unite (the gospel; Eph 4:1-6), and not experience divisions over permissible differences. Pray for mutual understanding as some in the congregation may be rejoicing and others simultaneously discouraged at election results (Rom 12:15).

• Pray for your hearts, that your hope would center on Jesus, not political results or candidates (Ps 20:7).

• Pray for the general population, that God would divest and disillusion anyone of putting their hope in politics so that they might put their hope in Jesus instead (Isa 31:1).

• Pray for all the candidates as they find out the results of the election, that they would find their sense of worth in Christ, not souring with pride if they win or plunging into despair if they loose (Phil 4:11-13).

• Pray that God's kingdom would come (Matt 6:10), remembering that every time we pray this, we are praying for the end of the United States. Our ultimate citizenship belongs elsewhere (Phil 3:20).

25/10/2024

Paraphrase of Matthew 6:25-32 (Presidential Election Version)
__________

"There's no reason to be anxious about the presidential election, its impact on things like whether you have enough food, drink, or clothes to wear. Is not life more than politics?

Consider the birds. They don't even have political candidates. Yet your Father feeds them, and does't he treasure you far more than they? Or consider flowers. They don't stress out about making sure they have clothes, yet even Solomon in his best fashion wasn't 'dressed' as beautifully as they. If God cares enough to provide for the flowers, which are here today and gone tomorrow, certainly he will take care of you!

I mean, let's be real. Can all your worries about politics improve them even the smallest bit?

You don't have to stress about such things like, 'Who will get elected? How will it affect the economy? What about freedom of religion; global warming; increase chance of war? What sort of country will my kids (or grandkids) have?' These are the worries that dominate the thoughts of unbelievers. But you have a heavenly Father who already knows all your needs. Relax.

So be reassured. There's no need to have such little faith. God's got this."

22/10/2024

Bad theology produces bad counsel. One place where this often occurs regards anxiety. This article clears up a lot of those faulty ideas, ideas that not infrequently wreak havoc or are used to bludgeon folks who are already hurting.

Rather than avoid or suppress our anxieties, we should run hard toward a loving, attached life that produces ordered anxiety.

20/10/2024

Whoever knows the right thing to do yet fails to do it, to him it is sin (Js 4:17). We must love in deed, not just talk (1 Jn 3:18). Adopting Pilate’s posture will not render us guiltless (Mt 27:24–26), because we are our bothers’ keeper (Gen 4:9).

19/10/2024

In other words, don't be Nikabrik.

19/10/2024

I’ve been thinking a lot about grief over the past year or so.

People say, “Time heals all wounds.” We talk about “getting over” things or “moving on.”

I think this can be true in some instances. For instance, maybe a dream you had doesn’t materialize. You grieve what never was, only to conclude, after some time passes, that you no longer desire that dream anymore. So you’re “over it.”

But in general, I tend not to like this framing (“getting over it,” “moving on”). I don’t think it’s true in a lot of instances. For example, when a loved one dies, do you ever “move on” and “get over it”, or do you—hopefully, because even this isn’t always the case—just learn to live with it, grow accustom to it, acquire the ability to manage it? In fact, it’s a bit messed up to assume we should just “move on” from a loved one’s passing, as if we come to accept it (death isn’t acceptable, and time doesn’t make it so). The same can be said of other suffering and evil we endure. Time doesn’t somehow undo those things.

Time *doesn’t* heal all wounds. That’s simply false. And arguably it’s an anti-Christian eschatology that sees time as salvific rather than the return of Christ (see Rev 21:4 where *Christ* wipes away all tears). Time *can* create some distance from the immediacy of our wounds, making the pain less sharp, more dull. But I think the pain is often still there. Instead, we (again, hopefully) simply learn to accommodate it.

This, of course, doesn’t mean we are resigned to wallow in our grief. Hope is a virtue according to the New Testament (alongside faith and love, e.g., 1 Cor 13:13). In other words, hope is something we must exercise. It’s not something we just happen to experience if we’ve lucky enough to experience its conditions, as if hope happens *to* us. No, we must fight to fixate on our hope. And that hope has a name: Jesus.

Nonetheless, hope anticipates what’s *future.* So, at present, hope does not undo suffering, pain, and grief. In 1 Thessalonians 4:13, Paul says we do not grieve as those who lack hope. Nonetheless, he *does* say we grieve! Hope does not erase or invalidate grief. Hope sees its reversal as already accomplished, but not yet fulfilled; already won, but not yet enacted. Each side of this coin is important; to neglect one at the expense of the other is to adopt something less-than-Christian.

So we resist the sort of “toxic positivity”—yes, even its Christian variety; especially its Christian variety!—that, whether stated or unstated, expects one always to be happy, never to be sad or hurt. Lament has a firm place in our faith. In fact, lament is an act of hope, putting the current sorrows, evil, and pain into confrontation with the God of hope. Indeed, a failure to grieve and mourn the pain and evil of this word is not virtue but apathy.

18/10/2024

When a child disobeys, it's inconvenient to punish them, e.g., a tantrum ensues; you have to cancel plans. It’s easier in the short-run to let it slide. But, if so, you show them they can get away with it. You normalize the behavior. So instead, you play the long game.

The same is true in politics

Many view voting simply as, "Pick whichever current candidate is better," as if that's the only thing to consider. Restrict your calculus to the short-term. But is it? The impact of a candidate cannot be restrained to a set of policies. Just look around. It's naive.

The short-term isn't the only "term." There are long-term effects to consider, like normalizing the direction of a party and effects on culture, including our political discourse, reshaping of our ethical sensibilities, the undermining of institutions, and impact on the church.

I want to double-click on the "reshaping of our ethical sensibilities." If we're partisan, our confirmation bias tends to (re)shape our moral compasses. We self-justify our political (partisan) decisions by re-forming our moral convictions to accommodate them. We like to think we approach politics informed by our faith. But we are often unaware how much our politics are deforming our faith.

Further "culture war" (I don't like the term, but—) is about more than policy. It's about, well, culture. It's far more than policy, legislation, and court rulings. Again, look around. For instance, the pro-life movement won the "battle" over overturning Roe. But it's currently losing the "war" on abortion in both popular sentiment and number of actual abortions.

I realize folks conduct the moral calculus of voting differently. It involves prudential judgment, weighing untold variegated factors and outcomes we can't predict. Good, well-meaning Christians will make different decisions. But I at least wanted to challenge the simplistic calculus.

15/10/2024

When your line between good and evil doesn’t cut through every human heart, but instead conveniently divides down party lines, you’ve been sold something different than Christianity.

15/10/2024

“Sometimes the most courageous thing you will do is be willing to see what is really happening in your own community.”
—Rachael Denhollander

14/10/2024

I attended a “celebration of life” (read: post-funeral party) this afternoon with my wife. It was for my wife’s friend. She was only 36 and had a 3-year-old son. Absolutely tragic.

It was a bit of a weird scene. They had a DJ who was playing dance music and dancing in the corner. Lot’s of drinks, food, and chatter. They were going for good vibes as a way of honoring this woman who lived life full of energy. But it was a jarring juxtaposition given the reason that brought us together.

Have you ever noticed that some don’t call them funerals anymore, “but celebration of life” services? Our culture doesn’t like to deal with death. We like to keep it out of sight and out of mind. We find it unsettling. We probably don’t know what to do with it existentially. So even when we do have to deal with it, like at a funeral, we like to recast it as life, “a celebration of life.”

But the juxtaposition made me think: Gosh, this is all so tragic, this woman dying at the mere age of 36, leaving her son behind who will likely barely even remember her. It’s heart-breaking.

But the reason it’s so heart-breaking isn’t because we’re the natural result of some mere evolutionary process that causes us to develop attachments to others due to its evolutionary advantage, with the byproduct that we grieve their loss. No, the reason we experience such deep tragedy in this world is because it’s haunted by what it should be. And the more beautiful and good something is meant to be, the more tragic and distressing its loss and destruction is.

We don’t just live in a world where unfortunate things happen—and that’s just the way it is. No, I think we sense something more sinister at play. Thus, we’re instinctually unwilling to accept this world as is. We internally want to resist it. We internally protest. We feel it as evil. We deeply sense something has gone wrong, that things are not the way they are suppose to be. And not just that, but that something good and beautiful has been disrupted—making it all the severer.

Think about those movies where a curse is invoked. The curse becomes an active force wreaking havoc, ruining the good, a force of harm. Tragic events aren’t just happenstance, the way things are. They are the torturous workings of the curse. The characters are constantly haunted by its reality. It chases them down. It won’t leave them alone. They struggle to escape it’s presence.

C.S. Lewis speaks of Christianity as the “true myth.” By this, he wasn’t saying that Christianity is unhistorical or untrue. No, he was saying, Christianity makes sense of our myth making. Myths provide meaning. And Christianity is that meaning-making story that explains all of our other attempts to make meaning.

So too Lewis said he believes in Christianity like he believes in the sun, because it illuminates and makes sense of everything else. It resonates with reality, our existential longing, our deep desires and sense of this world. Christianity “resonates” with the way things actually are.

One of the ways I think Christianity resonates with reality is this idea of the curse. When Adam and Eve sin, creation came under God’s curse (Gen 3).

The older I get, the more and more messed up I feel this world and this life are. It’s not just happenstance unfortunate events. It’s like a curse from a movie, an active presence wreaking havoc. We feel the tragedy not merely of unfortunate things we wish weren’t the case but of things we know ought to be beautiful and good, like the life of a young 36-year-old woman and her three-year-old boy.

11/10/2024

First Question: Are Christians obligated to vote?

1. We are obligated to love neighbor.
2. Politics is an arena that can afford us opportunities to love neighbor.
3. Voting is an act of politicking that's afforded to some Christians, and thus voting can afford opportunity to love neighbor.

#1 is the Biblical obligation. #2-3 are areas of prudential application that depend in large part on the particulars afforded to you.

So, no, Christians are not obligated to vote in any particular election.

There are, of course, good and bad reasons not to vote though. Failing to vote because you're lazy and indifferent to the plight of your neighbor (sin) is different than abstaining due to conscience or prudential judgment.

Second Question: Should pastors speak to their congregations about voting?

We need to recover the doctrine of ministerial authority.

All of our authority is derivative. We possess no inherent authority as creatures. Any authority we possess is ours only because God gave it to us (e.g., Gen 1:26-30).

Moreover, the pastor's authority is ministerial in nature. He has no authority except to exercise the duties of his office, as delegated him, and persuade others of what God's Word says. Unlike the state (Rom 13), the pastor has not been given authority to coerce. Nor does he have authority to bind consciences beyond the Word of God (Rom 14).

Pastors, of course, are to teach the whole counsel of God (Acts 20). This includes teaching Christians to be good citizens who act in ways that care for their civic neighbors (1 Per 2; Rom 13). But it precludes prescribing personal prudential judgments (applications) that are a matters of wisdom (e.g., voting or voting a certain way), which are not direct commands from scripture.

Pastors must constantly beware of the temptation to abuse their authority. Pastors, you have not been given a blank check.

11/10/2024

One of the most damaging traits of popular evangelical politics has been our inability to recognize prudential political judgments as such. We conflate our positions with “biblical.” We think we’re being biblicist—lifting positions off the page of scripture. We’re not self-reflective enough to acknowledge the intermediary role that political theory and partisan arguments necessarily play in the move from text to application. So we become legalists about our judgments.

07/10/2024

Much of contemporary evangelical political engagement could rightly be described as a rebrand of the old theological liberalism—accommodating Christianity to make it align with culture's values and sensibilities, even eliminating those parts it finds offensive.

In the past, this was done by denying its supernatural elements (e.g., virgin birth). In politics, this is now done this by truncating or denying the political implications of Christianity merely to those one likes.

07/10/2024

If your reading of the Bible causes you to make excuses for injustice, then you've lost the plot.

05/10/2024

Lack of lament is practical atheism.

Lament is not distrust in God. Rather, the very act of lament assumes trust in God, a recognition that he not only cares but is also able to do something.

Furthermore, God abhors evil. Thus, the more godly we become the more we will grieve and hate evil.

Lack of lament, rather than expressing some contented piety, expresses godless indifference or despair.