Stand in Wander, part 1: The Bible

Note: I promise not to make a habit of wonder/wander puns.

I started this blog as an attempt to free myself to write and build, but apparently the space is not the problem. The problem is me. I have been convicted of late that I have practiced silence for too long. Wisdom suggested it as one conflict after another seemed to indicate peacemaking was in order. There is a fine line between peacemaking and “peace-faking,” as Ken Sande calls it. The past decade has been an increasingly precarious time for relationships, so why make things worse?

Why indeed. Well, as a teacher, you really cannot afford to be silent all the time. You have to pick some fights, even if you’re not a pugilist. I have some fight-picking in my past, and I walked away from that on purpose. But as so often happens in human nature, the same correction that keeps you from driving into oncoming traffic can wind you up in a ditch. We are always correcting. I think, to extend the metaphor, that just as we eventually log enough hours behind the wheel that we don’t notice our own self-correcting actions on the road, one sign of maturity is logging enough hours in self-correction that it becomes second nature, imperceptible.

And some corrections are, no doubt. But occasionally you still need a good conscious jerk of the wheel to avoid a problem.

So in this post, I want to outline some of the convictions that I hinted at in the beginning and take time to flesh them out in the weeks and months ahead. This is not to say I am done wandering. Far from it. I love to learn, and I will always need to be correcting something. And I don’t see myself becoming any more “normal” anytime soon. So the identity holds.

But there is no necessary conflict between the idea of wandering and standing. (Especially when one term is even less literal than the other.) It is not a lack of conviction that drives me to wander, but the convictions themselves that drive me on. For me, to wander is to stand.

But stand in what? What follows are not formal arguments so much as a set of positions related to one another. They represent varying degrees of study and reflection, but of course none are immune from correction where needed. Still, they are worth articulating from time to time if for no other reason than my own growth. Note, too, that this is not an exhaustive list of convictions like a doctrinal statement. This is a subset of views that have taken me in unexpected directions and invited a conflict or two along the way.

Method/Revelation/Bible

I still believe that the Bible is both a divine and human book, authored by men moved by the Holy Spirit such that the words of the text are the very words of God. Contra critical scholarship, I do believe in inerrancy. Historical backgrounds can be helpful for discerning the meaning of the text, but second-guessing the text is of little value. Contra folk spirituality, I do not believe it is a magic book where God gives you a special word through the text. The text is the word. It was written to someone else, but for your benefit.

Because of the Bible’s divine source, it bears God’s authority. To disobey the Bible is to disobey God. To accept the biblical account of something is to accept God’s own account. The Bible is not God, but it is a trustworthy expression of God’s wisdom and will. Contra modern approaches, the text of the Bible cannot be corrected by anyone or anything. This includes the sciences, my reason, and my conscience. Contra some strains of fundamentalism, I recognize my interpretation of the text does need correcting at times and that what seems obvious is not always true.

The scope of the Bible’s content is sufficient for discipleship, and it is clear enough in its essentials that God can hold the reader accountable for understanding and obeying it. No one can plead “you never told me” if it was in the Bible. That being said, spiritual things are spiritually discerned, so some truths will not make sense without the help of the Holy Spirit.

This brings me to one of my most crucial distinctive convictions: if we want more of the Holy Spirit’s help, we find it not by turning inward but turning to the community of faith. It is perhaps common knowledge that we should read the Bible in order to let it form our minds. It is perhaps common knowledge that sin quenches the work of the Spirit, so we strive to walk in obedience in order to receive His help. But many believers learn (because they are so taught) that if we want more than this, we must learn to turn inward and find the voice of the Spirit in our hearts. We must wait as Elijah did for a still, small voice. We must ask for God to guide us as He did the apostles in Acts, who could say “it seemed good to the Spirit” to do thus, and be “led by the Spirit” here or there. We long for that intimate connection with God, and truly Scripture teaches that God Himself indwells those who put their faith in Him.

This can cause Baptist thought to lean in a charismatic direction. We expect God to work immediately, personally, and miraculously, and that when He does it is a sign of our maturity, that we are doing something right. And God can work in those ways, make no mistake. But God also works through things, corporately, and in ordinary ways. He occupies both spaces. And we must recognize that God does miracles not only for the fit but the unfit, the beggars, the outcasts, the weak. I don’t ever mean to find myself telling someone what God cannot do, and so I am not opposed to the way Charismatic Christians characterize the magnitude and frequency of God’s power. My concern is that too often we mistake the source of our certainty, our reason, our conviction, our conscience, our impulses, our motives, etc. We might think that the strength or clarity of those inner thoughts and feelings mean that they come from beyond us. But why?

God can work this way. But I submit that even if you fully embrace the idea that God can speak to you, whether through impulses and feelings or verbal messages within or without, you need the community of the Spirit to verify and clarify. How much more so for those of us who do not expect such frequent, personal, immediate (that is, unmediated) communication and direction from God?

We dare not turn inward until we have learned from the community of the Spirit. First, because being a Christian means being a part of the church. When we receive the Holy Spirit, we join a pre-existing community of the Spirit. We are united to Christ together. We find our identity not in a label we appropriate but in the real organism united by the Spirit, in the new family created by that second birth and by adoption. Second, because the Spirit has been ministering to this community since the beginning. He is not just your teacher but our teacher, not just your comforter but our comforter, not just your keeper but our keeper. And so if we desire to experience the ministry of the Spirit, why on earth would we ignore the work He has already been doing?! On the contrary, that which is most necessary for faith, He has already supplied to the entire church. Which brings me to my third point: if we are to discern the wisdom of God, we need to consult the record of what He has already provided. Only then can we know how to interpret our inner life.

This is my Baptist apologetic for church history. Too many of us were raised to think church history is merely the record of how humans got in God’s way and spoiled God’s work. This presents far too high a view of man and far too low a view of God. Christ said He would build His church and the gates of hell would not prevail against it. The community of the Spirit was not extinguished when the apostles died, nor when Constantine meddled in the church, nor in the evolution of Roman Catholicism. Pick your favorite corruption narrative. This is not to say we have not been weak or confused or divided at times. Not at all. We do not accept tradition uncritically; I would have to turn in my Baptist card if that were the case. But I need other Spirit-filled Christians to help me discern where I end and where the Holy Spirit begins. And I need Spirit-filled Christians who are not like me to help me look for blind spots. Some of these blind spots are no doubt cultural, but many are the result of the times we live in. We need Spirit-filled Christians from other times to help us discern our modern and postmodern blind spots.

So you can see I’m passionate on that point.

Apparently this will have to be a series because I haven’t made it very far through the traditional theological categories. Let me at least try to round out the list of distinctive convictions regarding Scripture, revelation, and method.

The Bible is not the sole source of truth. God’s works reveal who He is, especially the divine image in women and men. God’s wisdom and order precedes and arranges our reasoning. God’s goodness and holiness precedes and arranges our conscience. There is no space in all of creation where God does not exist, and it is all upheld and sustained by Him. Therefore, everything that exists is both relevant to our pursuit of God and not rightly understood until it is related to God. The supreme expression of God is in Jesus Christ. With Christ as the interpretive center of the Bible, the Bible the interpretive center of tradition, tradition the interpretive center of reason and intuition, all of these together form an interpretive framework for everything that exists.

Interpretation is far too complex to get into in any detail here, but in short, I would call interpretation a judgment of the meaning of things, a dynamic response to what is in the thing based on what is in us. Good interpretation arises from informing our judgments with the right values in the right proportions. This partly happens as part of life, a kind of literacy of basic functioning in the world. It partly happens as we are taught to read, gaining textual literacy in our language. But it is completed by discipleship, learning to value what God values, to judge by what He has revealed, and to make connections accordingly. We receive the text, and it acts on us, but we receive it best when we are prepared, and the spiritually mature believer reacts with increasing fidelity.

I have dropped a few hints about reason along the way. I shall leave that as-is for now.

In his systematic theology, Pannenberg provides something of a history of prolegomena, the growing need to say something before we get into the traditional doctrines of the church, the substance of which might follow that of the Apostle’s Creed. It grew corresponding to the need to gain a hearing, to remove obstacles that would prevent one from accepting what follows. I have felt that need acutely throughout my life. But you will see from my discussion above that I cannot conceive of prolegomena as a word before doctrine. It is a set of convictions that arises with doctrine and from doctrine. You will not get very far before you have to confront the nature of God, the nature of man, and the interactions between them. You have to know that we as a race were limited before we became sinful, and now we are both. Our hope for truth comes from the work God has done to reveal Himself, heal us, and teach us. So our convictions must arise from a complete picture of doctrine: the work of the Son and the Spirit, the effects of the Fall and the work of salvation, the process of salvation in the context of the church, and the telos found amid last things.

I have by no means exhausted either prolegomena or the relevant convictions from other doctrines. Even so, perhaps I have said too much for one post. I can always flesh out and nuance and separate later. Today it is enough to stand.

The Sin of Sodom

The other day I saw an old debate come back around: how should we think about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah in the Bible? It’s common in conservative circles to think destruction came about because of rampant homosexual activity. For them, the sin of Sodom was quite simply sodomy. The “other side” then quotes a passage from Ezekiel, which says the sin was actually failing to take care of widows and orphans. For both sides, there is a tendency to think “it’s right there in the Bible! How could you get this so wrong?!”

For conflicts that seem so obvious, it is perhaps all the more important to take a step back and examine what the Bible really says. First, we will look in detail at the story of Sodom in context. Then we will survey all the other references to Sodom in Scripture. Finally, we will take in some other examples in the Law of God’s moral reasoning about the nations.

The Story of Sodom

The first mention of Sodom in the Bible is in Genesis 10, where the land of the Canaanites is first introduced. Having just read about Noah and the flood, we find that he fathered Ham, and Ham fathered Canaan. Canaan’s family provides a list of peoples that will become familiar to any reader of the Pentateuch: it’s a list of nations that will one day be wiped out when Israel conquers the Promised Land. But for now, they seem harmless enough. Their territory extends “in the direction of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboiim, as far as Lasha” (Gen 10:19 ESV)

Settling Near Sodom

Fast forward a few chapters and many years, and we find Abram now entering the land of Canaan for the first time in Genesis 13. He has answered God’s call in faith, and because of their massive flocks, he is dividing up the space with his nephew, Lot. He gives Lot first pick of the land.

And Lot lifted up his eyes and saw that the Jordan Valley was well watered everywhere like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, in the direction of Zoar. (This was before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.) So Lot chose for himself all the Jordan Valley, and Lot journeyed east. Thus they separated from each other. Abram settled in the land of Canaan, while Lot settled among the cities of the valley and moved his tent as far as Sodom. Now the men of Sodom were wicked, great sinners against the LORD.

Genesis 13:10–13 ESV

So Lot is attracted to the natural beauty of the Jordan Valley and goes there. But of all the places to pitch his tent, he chooses the city of Sodom, and right away we are clued in to the fact that Sodom is a poor choice. As exceptionally beautiful as the Jordan Valley was, Sodom was exceptionally evil.

It’s interesting that mention of Sodom and Gomorrah’s destruction precedes the mention of its wickedness. The writer of this passage expects his readers to know already that these cities have been destroyed. Whether by experience or word of mouth, Sodom is known (to borrow a Pythonesque phrase) as an ex-city.

Often reading well depends on knowing many important details. But sometimes we gain important details by pretending to forget what we know, in order to appreciate better the story as it unfolds. As my ancient literature professor liked to remind us, classic literature is about the raising and fulfilling of expectations. So what does this text teach us to expect? So far, we are supposed to know that Lot has chosen a city that will eventually be destroyed, but the text has not yet given us the details. So as we read we expect its destruction, and we watch and wait to find out how—and perhaps why.

War in the Valley

In the next chapter, things are already looking pretty bad. Whether this is a new development or a quick history lesson, the text does not say, but the king of Sodom and the king of Gomorrah are on the losing end of local politics (v1–12). They have been made to serve Chederlaomer, king of Elam, for 12 years, and in the 13th year they have had enough. So the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah, along with three other kings in their situation, rebel against Chederlaomer and the three other kings that are allied with him. In the end, the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah are defeated, their armies scattered, and their cities plundered.

Is this the end of Sodom? No! Perhaps it might have been, except that Lot was captured, and so Abram comes to the rescue. King of no one, with a small army, he defeats the four kings and retrieves all that was plundered, rescuing the people.

In case we should feel conflicted that Abram saved Sodom, one of the other local kings blesses and praises him. This king is Melchizedek, who is also a priest of God Most High. He tells us (for anyone who wasn’t sure) that God delivered Abram’s enemies into his hand. And if you read enough of the Old Testament, you should have noticed a big clue in our story: God promised that small armies of the faithful would put large armies to flight because God would be fighting on their behalf (e.g., Joshua 23:10).

At this point, the king of Sodom asks that Abram give him back his people and keep the rest of the plunder, presumably as a reward. But Abram refuses the loot and gives everything back to the king of Sodom. The city is essentially restored. It’s interesting, in light of what’s ahead, that the king of Sodom is willing to give up all their possessions. He also saw an example of generosity and self-sacrifice in Abram refusing any payment except the food his soldiers ate.

The Outcry and the Mediator

Fast forward again to Genesis 18. Significant things are happening in the life of Abram, not the least of which being a name change. We know that he fathered Ishamael 13 years before the time of the next story, but it’s possible that many more had passed since the restoration of Sodom. (16:16 and 17:1 are clues to the timing here.)

On this occasion, it happened that God appeared to Abraham in the form of three men. This alone is incredible, but I will not dwell on it now. Suffice it to say this is a momentous event. Abraham convinces the three men to stop at his tent and enjoy his hospitality: footwashing, rest, fresh bread, and meat. Why is God here? In the course of conversation, God repeats His promise that Sarah would soon have a son, but something else occupies God’s attention. We find out in the next few verses:

Then the men set out from there, and they looked down toward Sodom. And Abraham went with them to set them on their way. The LORD said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, seeing that Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him? For I have chosen him, that he may command his children and his household after him to keep the way of the LORD by doing righteousness and justice, so that the LORD may bring to Abraham what he has promised him.” Then the LORD said, “Because the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great and their sin is very grave, I will go down to see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me. And if not, I will know.”
So the men turned from there and went toward Sodom, but Abraham still stood before the LORD.

Genesis 18:16–22 ESV

What an incredible moment. God is up to something big, and to highlight that, I want to rearrange the text a bit:

  1. Sodom and Gomorrah are guilty of terrible sins. Note: we still do not know what they are yet.
  2. These sins have caused a great outcry to God. For anyone looking for evidence of the power of prayer, this is a powerful example. The outcry has gone up, and now God has come down.
  3. God is coming for evidence. We know from elsewhere in Scripture that God already knows the truth, so this is not an educational exercise on His part. But much like a later scene where Abraham is tested with Isaac, God is putting man to the test, to give people a chance to prove their character or lack thereof.
  4. News of Sodom’s destruction is couched in a mini-sermon to Abraham. You are chosen to greatness, for the purpose of teaching your children and all the world to “keep the way of the LORD by doing righteousness and justice.”

What follows is another incredible sequence: Abraham is pleading for Sodom. How often does this come up in our retelling? We remember Sodom’s destruction, but do we remember how Abram saved them with God’s help? Do we remember how Abraham pleaded for them? Perhaps this should temper how we treat the people there, regardless of their sin.

Abraham’s pleas are not based on Sodom’s worthiness but on God’s character. He says,

“Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city. Will you then sweep away the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to put the righteous to death with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”

Genesis 18:23–25 ESV

Abraham recognizes God is the Judge of all the earth, and that He will do what is right. This includes sparing the guilty in order to protect the righteous. What an incredibly hopeful thought! And God agrees: he would spare the whole city for the sake of 50 good men. However bad the sin is and however great the outcry may be, God would rather spare the guilty than punish the innocent. This is not a promise that bad things won’t happen to good people. But it is an insight into God’s character. He is patient and kind. While the rest of the city deserves punishment, God may answer the prayers He received in other ways.

In a bizarre twist, we will find in the New Testament that while God would not put to death the righteous with the wicked, He would one day put the righteous to death for the wicked. And this is not in spite of His role as the just Judge of all the earth, but because of it.

But that story is a long way off. When Jesus died and rose again, He became our mediator before God. But here, Abraham is the only mediator the people of Sodom have. God initially says He will spare the wicked for 50, but Abraham presses until God says he would spare the whole city just for the sake of 10 righteous. 10! At this, the conversation ends.

So we know Sodom and Gomorrah are wicked, and we know they will be destroyed. But we also know that for the sake of 10, God would have spared it. Even 10 righteous people can make a difference.

Contrast this also with Jonah and Nineveh. Another wicked city is marked for destruction and just one prophet (whose righteousness is questionable) helps bring about citywide repentance. The first readers of Genesis would not have known this, but we know about it now, and it helps us get a fuller picture of what is happening here.

Now God will test Sodom to see what they are made of. The text does not use the word “test,” but it is essentially what He is doing by coming down to see for Himself what the people of the city is like. Again, He is not here to gain knowledge He lacks. He is here to witness it in person, to see how they respond to a particular situation.

Last Night in Sodom

So here we are at last: the infamous Genesis 19. The two men who were with God are now revealed to be angels in disguise. Lot greets them at the city gate and shows them respect and hospitality. He honors them just as Abraham did, offering to wash their feet, feed them, and provide a place of rest. Don’t miss this. Hospitality is the expectation in their culture. Lot is (at least so far) a good man.

The angels initially want to sleep in the town square, and this hints that the outcry they are coming to see is somewhere out there. But we still don’t know what it is.

Next comes the part everybody knows: the whole town comes out to gang rape the visitors. All the men, young and old. Wow.

Now, time-out for a second. Whatever your feelings are about gay marriage, this is not that. Yes, it’s men, but it’s all the men. At once. By force. No one reading this passage is going to defend that. So before you are tempted to say Sodom was destroyed for homosexuality, recognize that what’s going on here is far, far worse. We can all agree that this is a nightmare scenario.

At this point, Lot does the unthinkable: he offers his daughters to the mob.

This might give some the impression that Lot was ok with gang rape as long as it’s heterosexual gang rape. But that’s not what is going on here. Lot tells us why he would rather give up his daughters than his guests: “they have come under the shelter of my roof” (v8 ESV).

I’m in no way defending Lot’s reasoning here. But if I’m taking Lot at his word, his highest priority here is hospitality toward strangers. We may question his priorities, but we should acknowledge that he is trying to do right by his guests, sparing no expense. He is willing to pay even the extreme cost of sacrificing his children.

When I teach ethics, I love to discuss the Trolley Problem with my students. It’s a thought experiment where you are placed in an impossible situation: watch a train kill 5 innocent people, or throw a switch that redirects the train to kill only 2 innocent people. Many find it frustrating because it’s such a difficult question, and the difficulty is the whole point: it forces us to think very carefully about why we do what we do and what is most valuable to us.

Lot here faces a kind of Trolley problem: let the town gang rape your guests or throw the switch and let them gang rape your daughters instead. Either way, it’s a terrible situation. The question is which do you value more: your own flesh and blood or strangers who have entrusted themselves to you? If you think the answer is obvious, then I submit that you have just been granted a window into your culture.

Back to the action: the men of the city refuse the offer and turn on Lot, but the angels save him, strike the town with blindness, and let Lot know they have reached their conclusion: this town is going down.

Initial Thoughts

There’s so much more to this story; it really is captivating in its details. But I have lingered over narrative details long enough. Our question remains: what is the sin of Sodom?

No one ever says.

Isn’t that amazing?! The action gives us a new and terrible clue: homosexual gang rape of visitors. Is that it? Is it that specific? Is your hometown safe from God’s wrath just as long as that never happens? Or does one of these elements crowd out the others as the one that tips the scales? Is it possible that the sin is something hidden from sight here? In order to find out, we have no choice but to look and see what the rest of the Bible says about Sodom.

Looking Back on Sodom

For Lot’s wife, literally looking back on Sodom was a mistake that cost her her life. But the events that happened here were meant to send a statement throughout the world and all generations. “Sodom” became a byword, a warning. For everyone else, we are supposed to look back and take notice. Don’t let this happen to you.

Deuteronomy 29

The book of Deuteronomy is at the other end of the Pentateuch, and it’s the second giving of the Law that will guide a new generation into the Promised Land. It’s here that we find the first mention of Sodom after its destruction.

And the next generation, your children who rise up after you, and the foreigner who comes from a far land, will say, when they see the afflictions of that land and the sicknesses with which the LORD has made it sick—the whole land burned out with brimstone and salt, nothing sown and nothing growing, where no plant can sprout, an overthrow like that of Sodom and Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboiim, which the LORD overthrew in his anger and wrath—all the nations will say, ‘Why has the LORD done thus to this land? What caused the heat of this great anger?’ Then people will say, ‘It is because they abandoned the covenant of the LORD, the God of their fathers, which he made with them when he brought them out of the land of Egypt, and went and served other gods and worshiped them, gods whom they had not known and whom he had not allotted to them.

Deuteronomy 29:22–26 ESV

In this example, God is warning the people that if they turn away from the Mosaic covenant, they can expect to end up like Sodom and Gomorrah. There is no indication whether the sin is the same or not, but the outcome will be the same. Here the sin is idolatry, betrayal, faithlessness. It is breaking the Law without repentance, persisting in sin and rejecting God.

So this does not tell us much about the sin of Sodom. After all, Sodom had no covenant relationship with God, so we should not expect them to feel the same punishment for the same reason. But this actually allows us to make a crucial observation through contrast. If Sodom wasn’t judged by breaking covenant expectations, there must still be moral expectations God had for them—perhaps even expectations He has for all nations. Israel is given a specific set of commands with blessings and consequences. Sodom was not, and yet they were held guilty.

This is an important point for anyone who recognizes that our modern nations are not the nation of Israel. We may look to the Law and appreciate it as a fuller revelation of God’s character and His expectations for us, but our secular nation is not in a covenant relationship with God. The covenant blessings and curses do not apply to us. But that does not mean we are off the hook! Instead of looking to Israel for clues on how God may or may not judge us today, we are wise to look at Sodom and the other non-covenantal nations that God has punished over the centuries. It may be that we in the 21st century, wherever we are, should still take seriously the possibility that God could hold us accountable in the same way.

More about this later.

Deuteronomy 32

The next mention of Sodom is in the Song of Moses, where he is describing the adversaries of Israel.

For their vine comes from the vine of Sodom
and from the fields of Gomorrah;
their grapes are grapes of poison;
their clusters are bitter;
their wine is the poison of serpents
and the cruel venom of asps.

Deuteronomy 32:32, 33 ESV

This appears to be saying there is a connection between Sodom and Gomorrah and the rest of Israel’s adversaries. In the verses that follow, Moses says essentially that the judgment that awaited Sodom now awaits the enemies of Israel. In context, this is speaking not of the impending conquest of the land, but the judgment of Israel’s enemies after they (Israel) have forsaken God. So think more Judges than Joshua, more Daniel than David.

In short, Sodom is still a byword for those destroyed because of their sin, and sins will be punished whether or not you have the Mosaic Law.

Isaiah

If the LORD of hosts
had not left us a few survivors,
we should have been like Sodom,
and become like Gomorrah.
Hear the word of the LORD,
you rulers of Sodom!
Give ear to the teaching of our God,
you people of Gomorrah!

Isaiah 1:9, 10 ESV

These are the first of four mentions of Sodom in Isaiah. While Moses has in mind the enemies of God, here Isaiah has stern words for the people of God themselves. Instead of the Canaanites being compared to Sodom, now the Israelites are guilty. Isaiah’s emphasis here is again on destruction due to sin.

Which sins? Isaiah lists rebellion against God, corrupt dealings, iniquity, infirmity, and evil deeds. Does it get more specific than this? Yes, in verse 17 (with 16 for context):

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes;
cease to do evil,
learn to do good;
seek justice,
correct oppression;
bring justice to the fatherless,
plead the widow’s cause.

Isaiah 1:16, 17 ESV

The rest of the chapter continues along these lines, as does the third reference, in Isaiah 3:9. At this point, we have to admit that no one is really paying attention to the sexual aspect of what happened in Sodom. Either the main sin was not mentioned in the narrative, or God destroyed it for the way they treated their guests.

“Guests?!” you say. “These were angels, not widows and orphans.” In the Law, God repeatedly calls out widows, orphans, and sojourners/aliens as three vulnerable groups in need of protection. While it’s true that there is no direct connection between what is here in Isaiah and what we saw in Genesis 19, the way they treated their sojourners is at very least a clue into how they treated the fatherless and widow. Regardless, God is clearly calling Israel “Sodom” not for sexual sins but for sins of oppression.

Isaiah 13:19, the fourth reference, likens Israel’s conquerer Babylon to Sodom, declaring its destruction at the hands of the Medes. In chapter 14, Babylon is indicted with oppression and persecution. Again, no mention of sexual sin.

Jeremiah and Lamentations

“But in the prophets of Jerusalem
I have seen a horrible thing:
they commit adultery and walk in lies;
they strengthen the hands of evildoers,
so that no one turns from his evil;
all of them have become like Sodom to me,
and its inhabitants like Gomorrah.”

Jeremiah 23:14, 15 ESV

Again, we see the recurring theme: Israel will be destroyed just like Sodom, because of its sin. In this case, the sins called out are adultery, lying, and strengthening the hands of evildoers. For the first time, sexual sin is clearly implicated, but note how justice is still at the fore.

Sodom is again mentioned in Jeremiah 49:18, where Israel’s neighbor Edom is likened to Sodom, again to highlight the utter destruction awaiting it. In Jeremiah 50:40, almost the exact same language is used of Babylon again.

Moving on to Lamentations, Sodom is invoked again, this time not for comparison but for contrast:

For the chastisement of the daughter of my people has been greater
than the punishment of Sodom,
which was overthrown in a moment,
and no hands were wrung for her.

Lamentations 4:6 ESV

So the picture of Sodom is used to lament the state of Israel. And the context again gives us some clues as to why: prophets and priests shedding the blood of the righteous (v13). The concerns are again more about justice than sex.

Ezekiel 16

There are a few other references to Sodom in Amos and Zephaniah, but they add nothing new to what we have already seen. (Although the fact that Moab and Ammon get likened to Sodom and Gomorrah is particularly poignant because they are the descendants of Lot and his daughters. Alas, we must press on.)

The last big one is the text that is always used as a proof-text for the “Sodom wasn’t about homosexuality” crowd. It’s in Ezekiel 16, and it’s so important that I’m going to quote it at length here:

“Behold, everyone who uses proverbs will use this proverb about you: ‘Like mother, like daughter.’ You are the daughter of your mother, who loathed her husband and her children; and you are the sister of your sisters, who loathed their husbands and their children. Your mother was a Hittite and your father an Amorite. And your elder sister is Samaria, who lived with her daughters to the north of you; and your younger sister, who lived to the south of you, is Sodom with her daughters. Not only did you walk in their ways and do according to their abominations; within a very little time you were more corrupt than they in all your ways. As I live, declares the Lord GOD, your sister Sodom and her daughters have not done as you and your daughters have done. Behold, this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy. They were haughty and did an abomination before me. So I removed them, when I saw it. Samaria has not committed half your sins. You have committed more abominations than they, and have made your sisters appear righteous by all the abominations that you have committed. Bear your disgrace, you also, for you have intervened on behalf of your sisters. Because of your sins in which you acted more abominably than they, they are more in the right than you. So be ashamed, you also, and bear your disgrace, for you have made your sisters appear righteous.

“I will restore their fortunes, both the fortunes of Sodom and her daughters, and the fortunes of Samaria and her daughters, and I will restore your own fortunes in their midst, that you may bear your disgrace and be ashamed of all that you have done, becoming a consolation to them. As for your sisters, Sodom and her daughters shall return to their former state, and Samaria and her daughters shall return to their former state, and you and your daughters shall return to your former state. Was not your sister Sodom a byword in your mouth in the day of your pride, before your wickedness was uncovered? Now you have become an object of reproach for the daughters of Syria and all those around her, and for the daughters of the Philistines, those all around who despise you. You bear the penalty of your lewdness and your abominations, declares the LORD.

“For thus says the Lord GOD: I will deal with you as you have done, you who have despised the oath in breaking the covenant, yet I will remember my covenant with you in the days of your youth, and I will establish for you an everlasting covenant. Then you will remember your ways and be ashamed when you take your sisters, both your elder and your younger, and I give them to you as daughters, but not on account of the covenant with you. I will establish my covenant with you, and you shall know that I am the LORD, that you may remember and be confounded, and never open your mouth again because of your shame, when I atone for you for all that you have done, declares the Lord GOD.”

Ezekiel 16:44–63 ESV

Wow. If Lamentations claimed that Israel’s punishment was worse than Sodom’s, now Ezekiel is claiming that Israel’s sin was worse than Sodom’s. Sodom’s sins are called abominations, and if we’re not careful, we can read that as a code word. It has often been associated with gay sex because God describes it as an abomination in Leviticus. But Sodom’s abominations are listed for us here: “pride, excess food, and prosperous ease, but [they] did not aid the poor and needy. They were haughty and did an abomination before me. So I removed them, when I saw it.”

Perhaps you may still be tempted to think the text is pivoting from the list to something else; “an abomination = gay sex.” The truth of the matter is God calls a great many sins abominations. It is not a special category for things done by people with struggles you may not have. A great many things are called abominations in the Bible, things like lying lips (Proverbs 12:22) and an arrogant heart (Proverbs 16:5). If you surveyed all the times it is used, you would realize that you have been guilty of many abominations in your life. Don’t be fooled. Better instead to see “did an abomination” in the terms given here: pride toward God and selfishness toward the needy.

The Gospels and Paul

Talk of Sodom is not restricted to the Old Testament, and so while Ezekiel presents the clearest word, it is not the last word.

Jesus spoke about Sodom and Gomorrah, which is recorded in both Matthew (10:15 and 11:23, 24) and Luke 10:12. In each case, He is using them to condemn Israel for its persistent disbelief. Remember that Nineveh repented when it heard Jonah’s message, and how that was thematically in contrast with the destruction of Sodom? Well, Jesus says that if He had sent a prophet to do miracles in Sodom, they would have changed their ways. So again, Jesus is following in the tradition of the prophets by using the byword for sin-unto-destruction to condemn Israel, and not by being the same, but by being worse.

Jesus also uses Sodom to talk about the urgency of His return, which we usually associate with the other historic image He gave, the Flood. See Luke 17:29.

Moving on, Paul only mentions Sodom once while quoting a passage we have already seen. There in Romans 9:29, he uses Isaiah’s words about Sodom as a picture for what could have been in his day except for God’s mercy in leaving a remnant of believing Jews.

Peter and Jude

Finally we come to the end. (There is a mention in Revelation, but it does not add anything to our previous analysis.) It’s here toward the end of the New Testament in some tiny letters that we find the Bible has more to say about Sodom than just concerns about justice.

“…if by turning the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to ashes he condemned them to extinction, making them an example of what is going to happen to the ungodly; and if he rescued righteous Lot, greatly distressed by the sensual conduct of the wicked (for as that righteous man lived among them day after day, he was tormenting his righteous soul over their lawless deeds that he saw and heard); then the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials, and to keep the unrighteous under punishment until the day of judgment, and especially those who indulge in the lust of defiling passion and despise authority.”

2 Peter 2:6–10 ESV

Here Sodom is used in its ultimate sense: as a foreshadowing of hell. This is in some ways theologically satisfying because we have seen all along that Sodom is a picture of destruction due to sin, and ultimately this is the essence of hell. (Note: this is not to wade into the debate on whether punishment is eternal or not. I believe it is eternal, but I will not defend that here.)

The real twist is that Peter uses language that is more sexual than the prophets ever did. It is truer to the language of the narrative, which clearly depicts sexual sin. Of course, this is not really a twist; again, it’s talking about things that were obvious in Genesis 19. It only feels like a twist because no other writer has seen fit to talk about this aspect so far.

I suspect at least some of the difference is because of Lot. In every other reference to Sodom, we are called to see Sodom in Israel, Edom, Moab, etc. The focus is on judgment for sin and a warning call to repentance, and the emphasis is almost always on justice and oppression. But here in 2 Peter, Sodom is used to describe a problem “out there.” He is writing to relate his readers to Lot, who is usually not mentioned with Sodom. He was surrounded by sin that grieved his soul just as we are often surrounded by sin that grieves our souls. Part of the Christian life is pursuing holiness in sometimes dark places. In this case, it might make more sense to appeal to the details in the narrative. Just as we can see Lot working hard to stay pure amid his debauched neighbors, so we should take comfort that God sees our struggles to stay pure in a sex-saturated society and will one day judge the sins around us.

By the way, this is not to ignore problems of injustice, which surely happened in Rome as well. But taking care of the poor was a high priority for the church, and a problem they could address. Sexual sins in the culture, on the other hand, could not be dealt with so easily.

Jude 7 also uses Sodom and Gomorrah to talk about sexual immorality and the judgment of the wicked. However, here the emphasis is not on Lot or on our perseverance but as part of a list of Old Testament examples of sin to avoid. And it’s clear from the narrative in Genesis 19 that sexual immorality is one of the sins to avoid.

So just as Ezekiel 16 does not equivocate about the sin of Sodom being pride and selfishness toward the needy, Peter and Jude testify that the sexual side of the actions we see in Genesis 19 are no mirage and not to be excused.

However, this still does not narrow down the list of sexual sins we saw in Sodom to the homosexual aspect. To risk stating the obvious, rape is a sexual sin. In order to clarify our understanding of how to think about what we saw in Sodom, we have to return to a question we began to raise earlier.

What Does God Expect of the Nations?

“Not because of your righteousness or the uprightness of your heart are you going in to possess their land, but because of the wickedness of these nations the LORD your God is driving them out from before you, and that he may confirm the word that the LORD swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.”

Deuteronomy 9:5 ESV

What does God expect of the nations? This is by no means a simple question. In one sense, we could simply look at God’s character and recognize the myriad ways we all fall short. This is clearly one way to measure God’s expectations. But God is patient with sin, and if He were going to wipe out any city for any and every sin, the Flood would have happened sooner and no one would have escaped.

We can see in the Law a more detailed expression of God’s character manifested in a covenant relationship with one specific people. This again gives us clues for understanding right from wrong. However, again, we are concerned with understanding God’s basis of judgment for cities like Sodom, nations that do not know Him, do not have Scripture, do not have the Law, do not have a covenant.

For this, we could look in three places: the Law, the Prophets, and the New Testament. For our purposes here, I’m going to limit my focus to those portions of the Law where God gives us some explicit clues about why He is judging the nations. This focus is not because the rest is irrelevant, but partly for the sake of time, and partly because these are the insights that speak closer in time to the situation at Sodom and Gomorrah.

Clue #1: Leviticus 18

“Do not make yourselves unclean by any of these things, for by all these the nations I am driving out before you have become unclean, and the land became unclean, so that I punished its iniquity, and the land vomited out its inhabitants.”

Leviticus 18:24, 25 ESV

Here we can see one set of rules that God applied to non-covenant nations: sin that pollutes the land and demands cleansing. And the list found in the 23 verses preceding is almost exclusively about sex. Most of it is about various forms of incest and marking the boundaries of what is too close versus what is acceptable—and this includes family that is not your blood relative. I say this because we often focus on biological concerns in incest when clearly more than this was in view. Then it says not to marry both a woman and her sister, which may be less about sex and more about kindness toward the woman, preventing a life of sibling rivalry. Then comes no period sex, no adultery, no gay sex, and no animal sex. In the middle of this is one command that is not explicitly related to sex: no child sacrifice.

Now, before I go on, let me be clear: I am not saying that these verses say the sin of Sodom was gay sex. But they do indicate that gay sex is one of a number of sexual sins that caused God to do a very similar thing to other nations.

In case you’re wondering how seriously we should take these, note that verse 25, quoted above, is not the end. He continues:

“But you shall keep my statutes and my rules and do none of these abominations, either the native or the stranger who sojourns among you (for the people of the land, who were before you, did all of these abominations, so that the land became unclean), lest the land vomit you out when you make it unclean, as it vomited out the nation that was before you. For everyone who does any of these abominations, the persons who do them shall be cut off from among their people. So keep my charge never to practice any of these abominable customs that were practiced before you, and never to make yourselves unclean by them: I am the LORD your God.”

Leviticus 18:26–30 ESV

God does not give us details about which sins happened the most in Canaan, and whether some on this list are worse than others. We may crave more details, either to acquit or condemn, but we have to accept the list as it is.

These rules were given to Israel, but they were not only applied to Israel. These rules were applied to people who had never heard of God. And if they applied to the Canaanites, I submit that they also applied to Sodom. And if to Sodom, I am convinced they apply to everyone. God does not need to establish a special covenant with your people to hold you accountable for these actions, including, but not limited to, the destruction of your city or your country.

“But wait,” you might say. “Wasn’t the Promised Land special?” Well, yes, it was. But to that I say, again, consider Nineveh. Nineveh is clearly outside the Promised Land and yet God was going to destroy their city because of their sins. So we cannot put any geographical boundaries on God’s willingness to act.

Does this mean that “the sin of Sodom” really was sexual after all? No. That’s not what this text says. But I am saying it could have been. If it was enough to destroy Jericho, for example, it could have been enough for Sodom, too. So anyone who is quick to dismiss the sexual aspects of the sins at Sodom have not only 2 Peter and Jude to contend with, but Leviticus as well.

You may wonder if I am being biased here, if perhaps I am being prudish and obsessing over sex. Again, I’m just reporting what is in the text. God explicitly says He has a sexual code that He has at times used to punish other nations. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Clue #2: Leviticus 20

“And you shall not walk in the customs of the nation that I am driving out before you, for they did all these things, and therefore I detested them.”

Leviticus 20:23 ESV

Here is a second instance where God pulls back the curtain, as it were, and explains why He is driving out the nations before Israel. What’s on this list? Well, child sacrifice makes a reappearance, in greater detail than last time. Other repeats from the previous list include adultery, incest, gay sex, animal sex, and period sex. New to the list are turning to mediums and necromancers, cursing your father and mother, and sleeping with both a mother and her daughter.

Yes, sex figures prominently in this list, too, and it comes later on down the list so that it is in closer proximity to the judgment in verse 23. To be clear, I don’t think proximity matters in this case, but I say this in case one is tempted to think God is only condemning what came immediately before.

I have heard some argue that these Levitical laws no longer apply. While it’s true that Jesus declared all foods clean and that His sacrifice on the cross put an end to the sacrificial system, the other laws are debated. However, even if you hold that the rest of the Mosaic Law is not binding on Christians, these passages are talking about transgressions by non-covenant nations with no record of warning. God does not need the Mosaic Law to judge the nations fairly.

But of course someone will say, “It doesn’t matter. You cannot rely on biblical teachings about sex and gender because they were written in patriarchal times and are either corrupted by culture or at least dependent on a culture that no longer exists. Better to just emphasize the clear teachings in Ezekiel and keep your mouth shut about other people’s sex lives.” True, these laws are human words that come from a particular time and place and culture. But if you believe, as I do, that they are not merely human words but divinely inspired, then you can appreciate the need to inspect our own culture and biases and not let present-day passions and hegemonies restrict the words of God. Perhaps the sexual code in the Bible does not merely function to prop up patriarchy but reflects the way we were designed by our Creator. This seems to be what Jesus is saying when He talks about sexual ethics. Better to condemn the sins listed in Ezekiel without excusing any aspect of the sexual misconduct, since that’s what the Bible does.

Clue #3: Two Contrasts

Before I conclude, let’s consider some additional passages where God makes moral judgments of other nations in similar but different ways.

In one of many examples where Egypt is used as a warning for Israel, God says, “You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt” (Ex. 20:21 ESV). Notice how God does not say “Egypt oppressed you, that’s why I judged them.” He says you know what it’s like to be oppressed; don’t oppress others. Egypt clearly did what was wrong, but God tells Israel the lesson they are to learn from this is more like “do unto others.”

This is very different from the warnings we have been looking at. These were not sins committed against Israel but against God. Instead, the lesson they are to learn from the Canaanites is “don’t let this happen to you.”

The example of the Egyptians is especially tuned to the second greatest commandment, to love your neighbor as yourself. And perhaps this next example relates to the greatest commandment, to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. 

“Take care, lest you make a covenant with the inhabitants of the land to which you go, lest it become a snare in your midst. You shall tear down their altars and break their pillars and cut down their Asherim (for you shall worship no other god, for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God), lest you make a covenant with the inhabitants of the land, and when they whore after their gods and sacrifice to their gods and you are invited, you eat of his sacrifice, and you take of their daughters for your sons, and their daughters whore after their gods and make your sons whore after their gods.”

Exodus 34:12–16

Here Israel is warned in no uncertain terms that the nations being driven out are guilty of worshiping false gods. However, unlike the lists we have been looking at, God does not say that they were driven out for idolatry, per se. Again, such would condemn every culture, not these in particular. So while God would be justified in judging any nation for following after false gods, this warning appears to be especially for Israel. God is jealous for her. This jealousy applies to the people of His covenant, but He does not often use these concepts with other nations. Jealousy is associated with God’s name, His people, and the Promised Land. Only in the final judgment does God speak of His jealousy for all the nations (e.g. Zeph. 1:17, 18).

So the lists in Leviticus 18 and 20 seem to specifically indict the Canaanites, but on universally applicable grounds. However, the oppression from the Egyptians and the idolatry of the Canaanites, while also sinful, are treated differently in God’s warnings.

However, to bring things full circle, God does say that Canaanite idolatry was linked to the detestable practices that are forbidden. “…But you shall devote them to complete destruction, the Hittites and the Amorites, the Canaanites and the Perizzites, the Hivites and the Jebusites, as the LORD your God has commanded, that they may not teach you to do according to all their abominable practices that they have done for their gods, and so you sin against the LORD your God” (Deut 20:17, 18 ESV).

So while idolatry is a sin, and it is grounds for judgment for Israel, it appears that the practices associated with idolatry were grievous enough to cause the destruction of these cities.

Conclusions (Finally)

In some ways, we shouldn’t be surprised if the quest for “the” sin of Sodom is complex. After all, we would be hard pressed to identify “the” sin of David or “the” sin of Israel. We are all guilty of many sins, often at the same time. Looking for “the” sin quickly becomes an exercise in ranking one sin over another, which can easily get out of hand.

We know for sure that Sodom was destroyed for its sin and made an example of for all to heed: do not persist in sin or you will be destroyed, too. It is a lesson for nations, but ultimately also a lesson for individuals. Repent of your sin, otherwise your own personal destruction awaits.

And when we look in the narrative for “the” sin, we see a whole city of men willing to gang rape visitors. It is a sexual sin. It is a sin of violence. It is a sin of oppression of a vulnerable group. The Bible makes clear none of these are tolerable. The Law makes especially clear that sexual sin pollutes the land and can lead to destruction.

But the Prophets make equally clear that injustice pollutes the land and can lead to destruction. And in Ezekiel 16, God makes plain that mistreating the poor is “the sin” that should grab our attention when we think about Sodom.

The problem for people of both camps is when we linger over one set of sins and refuse to acknowledge the other. Both are heinous, according to God’s Word.

But someone may say “you’re just giving in to cultural pressure by downplaying gay sex in the narrative. Everyone can see the abomination in Genesis 19 is men sleeping with other men. I don’t need the prophets to tell me what’s right there in front of me.” Yet the same God who inspired Genesis inspired Ezekiel and we would be foolish to rank one above the other, as though some of God’s words had more “God status” than others. It is not “giving in” to stand by the Word in all its fullness and all its complexity. Further, to insist on Genesis 19 as support for God’s design for sex is a case of right doctrine, wrong text. It’s not about marriage. It’s about a whole town of men so depraved that they cannot wait for some poor traveler to wander in so they can gang rape him in the street. No one is defending the men of Sodom. If you are more concerned about the homosexual aspect of the story than you are about the violence, I’m concerned for you. If you are more concerned that the town might be gay than you are that the town might be affluent but completely indifferent to the needy, God is concerned for you.

Or perhaps concerned is not a strong enough word. For as God told the Israelites, “You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt. You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child. If you do mistreat them, and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry, and my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children fatherless.” (Exod. 22:21–24 ESV)

In the end, I wonder if the story of Sodom isn’t primarily about which sin was the clincher. Maybe the sin was not specifically listed in the narrative in order to keep the emphasis on the outcome, as a sign to the world that there are significant consequences for sin. After all, as we have seen, “Sodom” in the Bible was not a byword for homosexual or for injustice; it was a byword for sin unto destruction. The name Sodom was a reminder that your own sins can end in destruction because the Just Judge of the Earth always does what is right. Neither Leviticus nor Ezekiel should be used to hush this fact.

In Praise of Uselessness

I’ve created a new space on this site that was really what this page was originally about: a place to write anything. I’m calling it the “wanderlog.” This ultimately is a category to protect me from me, to give me permission to write anything without purpose, without apology. Of course, I very much hope that it’s not useless, but I’m giving myself permission to be useless.

And really, that’s an important value to protect. Usefulness is good, but the world pushes you to make it ultimate. I may have shared this before (maybe I should give myself permission to be repetitive, too!) but I really connected with something I heard on Peter Bregman’s leadership podcast years ago. He said he has a tendency to turn his hobbies into projects, and almost without meaning to, he would find that he keeps repeating this cycle of professionalizing.

You may laugh and wonder how I relate to that since I currently walk around with an imaginary “master of none” sign on my back. He does it better, don’t get me wrong. But I feel the same pull to take something I enjoy and professionalize it. I can’t just journal; I feel compelled to write books, to improve in the craft, hone a message, build an audience, and find a publisher. I can’t just build a loft bed for my son; I feel compelled to practice, refine, get better tools, build better things, maybe start selling some of them. I can’t just write songs; I have to record them, produce them, refine, share, monetize, etc. I can’t simply teach; I want to be a teacher. I can’t simply learn; I want to be a scholar. I can’t simply counsel; I want to be a counselor.

I imagine this is just part of living in 21st century America. Technology and social media have given us the tools to access vast amounts of knowledge, to DIY anything, to monetize anything, build your own brand. There’s an invitation—for anything you want to do—to do it better, do it for money, and find your identity in it.

My problem is not lack of interest or lack of aptitude, but lack of focus. But I’ll save that thought for another day.

Casting aside the details, my first blog very gradually turned into a professional online presence. So I created a second one. And that one gradually turned into a different kind of professional online presence. This is partly because there is a pressure—often self-imposed—to curate your online image, to carry yourself a certain way. And this is probably more true in some disciplines than others. But whether on the altar of professionalism or to some other god, “just write” eventually gets sacrificed to “just write something amazing.” And what counts as amazing? Well, it sure isn’t useless!

Don’t get me wrong. Usefulness is great. Everything has a purpose, and without purpose, I don’t know that anything could exist. Even our most useless moments are made possible by thousands of useful components.

I want to be useful. I find joy in serving others. We also play a role in God’s plan that lends itself to talk of being “used by” Him. It comes up when Paul talks about being clay in the Potter’s hand, crafted for one purpose or another. It comes up in images of the church, where a part contributes to the body, or a living stone contributes to the greater structure.

Further, God gives us spiritual gifts so that we can help one another. We are to use them for each other, and by extension make ourselves useful in these ways.

Usefulness is good. Isn’t it?

I was recently trying to explain to a friend my beef with Pragmatism. It’s not that being useful is bad. It’s not that being better is bad. The problems arise when you look at “to what end?” and “in what context?”

All things being equal, it’s better to help more people than fewer. All things being equal, it’s better to do something well than to do it poorly. All things being equal, it’s better to be efficient rather than wasteful. All things being equal, it’s better to fit the medium to the message. All things being equal, it’s better to to maximize impact.

But all things are never equal. Ever. It’s a thought experiment. It’s an imagined world. In the real world, there is always a context, and in that context, bigger may not be better, efficient may not be better, polished may not be better, and, paradoxically, better may not be better. There’s the cost of resources to do the thing, whether time, money, etc. There’s the potential for your thing to compete with other goods, not just in production but in the life of the consumer. There’s the unintended consequences of attributing value to one thing and, by implication, devaluing whatever is not being emphasized. There’s human nature, there’s the cost of amplifying a mistake, etc., etc.

These costs don’t mean “stop trying to be better!” They just need to be factored in. Sometimes slower is better, fewer is better, messy is better. The first problem of Pragmatism is that we tend to take the one thing we’re trying to improve and make it ultimate. Then more and more things become instrumentalized toward one end. And the more we emphasize their usefulness toward that end, the more we endanger their inherent worth and their role in other systems toward other goods.

And then of course, there is the more basic problem of “what are you chasing?” Is what you think is good really, actually good? Do you really need fame? Do you really need membership in that club? Do you really need more people than you can serve at your current capacity? So there are good things that become corrupt by being made ultimate, and there are sketchy things that we chase that really aren’t worth our time. I’m sure there are better examples, but for now, let’s move on.

If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing well. It’s worth doing poorly, too, but (all things being equal!) do it well if you can. If you can’t, there are probably times you need to stop. But why assume that you should? Let’s say making food is worth doing, but you can’t do it well. Would you starve because someone else does it better? Of course, you don’t want to poison anyone, and maybe you shouldn’t set up a stand by the roadside, but if it’s worth doing, do it! Dare to be less than the best.

But I would challenge you to more than that. Don’t content yourself with simply being bad at something. Dare to be useless. Dare to leave money on the table, potential untapped.

Why? Well, there are all the concerns I mentioned above about context and pursuing bad ends or making the wrong thing ultimate. But I believe it goes deeper than that. I think our interest in usefulness is itself a good thing that has become twisted by being made ultimate. We so quickly move from wanting to help to being seen as a helper, then to finding our identity in helping, then to feeling lost when we can’t help. We so quickly move from valuing someone to valuing their contribution, then to measuring them by their contribution, then to writing them off when they don’t contribute enough. So whether we are measuring ourselves or someone else, who we are and whether we are loveable comes down to a measure of utility.

Dare to be useless. Dare to love the useless. Not as an excuse to be lazy or apathetic or in any other way to promote some alternative destructive value. We need to recognize that some things have value not because they do something but because they simply are.

Consider the idea of rest. I have a tenuous relationship with rest. It seems wasteful. “Sleep is for the weak.” Rest is for people who aren’t determined enough, who are content with less. I have gotten better at this as an adult as I realize I need rest in order to be restored, and that this is a good gift from God and not merely a form of coddling.

But so far, my idea of rest is still tied to its utility. When God rested on the seventh day, it did Him no good. It was a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but because He did not exhaust Himself, it wasn’t restorative. You might reply that He used it to set an example, and I’ll grant this. He is wise and has His reasons. But the example He sets is one that need not be restorative. It may be ceasing for its own sake. It may just be without accomplishing one agenda or another. It comes with permission for dignified uselessness.

Now, I realize I risk stepping on toes here. Some traditions take Sabbath very seriously, and I don’t mean to say that it shouldn’t be an opportunity for worship or that it precludes the possibility of doing something else that is somehow restful in a different way. I don’t mean to empty Sabbath rest of any of these good things. I simply want to make the case that there may be room in the Sabbath for dignified uselessness. Maybe, just maybe, one day a week can be free from the very idea of accomplishment. It can just be without any consideration of being for.

This is why I think we should dare to be useless. Because the very thought of uselessness seems like heresy, like wickedness, like debauchery. But as Christians, we know that there are some people whose usefulness is very difficult to measure, but their value remains untarnished. We know that an unborn baby is valuable not because it has potential or because it makes her parents feel good, but simply because she is. Value without use. We know that someone at the end of life may have lost physical and mental faculties, even to the point of being unresponsive, and yet their value is not indexed to inability. He is valuable not because of legacy or independence, but simply because he is. Not because he is for. The same can be said for people in the middle of life who are unable by one measure or another. Is their utility hampered? Maybe. Their value? Not on your life.

Dare to be useless, to love useless things, to break the tie between value and impact, worth and work, praiseworthiness and potential.

Now, you might say, (and I confess, I hope you would), “Josh, that was a helpful thing you just said.” Does that undermine the point? Aren’t useful blog posts better than useless ones? Contexts and ends, my friend. Contexts and ends. In this case, it is only because I was willing to risk uselessness that I even started typing.

“Aha!” you say, “so uselessness is a useful idea!” Well, I suppose it was today. I don’t think my point requires uselessness to persist in itself or to become a dominant value. I simply need to accept it as part of life, and accept the possibility that actual uselessness need not be a threat or a sin. Maybe it’s not possible for any good or true idea to be completely fruitless; but I suspect it’s not necessary for the content of the idea to somehow govern the nature or quality of the idea itself. I’ll save that debate for another time. For now I’m content to simply push back against the cult of pragmatism and leave it at that.

Something True, Revisited

I have two blogs and rarely contribute to either one. Why is that?

It’s because I’m a writer. That’s what I do when I have time to myself. It’s what I do because I have no other choice. It’s how I see myself and how I want to be seen.

Of course, I want to be seen as more than that. I don’t want to be mistaken for some caricature. So I have a YouTube space so I can share educational videos, and I have a SoundCloud account so I can share music and sermons, and I have an Instagram account so I can share pictures. I enjoy these things. I enjoy making these things. I want others to see me as someone competent in these areas, too.

But I rarely contribute to any of these venues. Why is that?

Did I stop writing music? No. I stopped performing music in public, but I still make music for my kids and I on any given day you may catch me recording a voice memo of some new idea for a hook or a lyric.

Did I stop taking pictures? No. Now that I have kids, I take more pictures than ever. I never get tired of trying to capture a beautiful moment in nature, hoping to savor it beyond its given window of time.

Did I stop making videos? Well, I only ever do that in professional contexts. I make them for other people, not so much for my own purposes.

I could never stop creating. (Feel free to type me under your personality profile of choice. You’re probably not far off.)

So why do all of these accounts remain unused? Because of fear.

You see, right now I can enjoy the process of creating with little risk. I can enjoy the spark of discovery, the delight of insight, the turn of a rhythmic phrase as it dances with an image, and honor it for what it is. And I know God sees these things and delights in them, too. Occasionally I will share one with the kids or with my wife. Very rarely with a close friend.

But in so doing I content myself with a lesser joy. My passion has been to share these things with other people. In preaching, I can say “look at this amazing thing in the text!” In teaching, I can say “watch the unique way this idea flies back to its nest!” I write and speak because I want to share these treasures.

This is why I have always struggled with music. It is a deep passion, but I can’t separate myself from the work. I don’t know how to say “listen to this wonderful lyric!” without meaning in my heart “listen to my wonderful lyric!” I have been trying to work through this, and maybe it’s part of the answer to my larger problem.

By the “larger problem,” I simply mean the fear I mentioned before. I love to share, but. But. What if you don’t see the beauty? I’m so convinced it’s beautiful, so sure that if you saw what I saw, you would wonder at it, too, that it can only mean that I have failed to present it properly.

I have been losing my audience. People I used to count as friends have drifted away as the cultural currents push and pull. The same holds true for my seminary classmates, as politics has charged divisions that once posed no threat. And after leaving a church and leaving a job, after isolations and deconstructions, I want more than ever to share good, beautiful things. But I don’t want to stutter. I don’t want to trip. I don’t want to be the reason you miss the thing.

So somewhere along the way, I started writing for my critics. Because some days friends and critics are indistinguishable.

At first, I thought writing for my critics would make me better at this. But the truth turns out to be something I’ve known for a very long time: if you’re committed enough to your position, there is always a way to maintain it.

For a while I was searching for the right starting place. I wanted common ground that we could build from. If I could just establish that space and build from there, then maybe you could see the beauty of the thing. Or at very least maybe we could learn to talk with respect again.

But I found myself walking a path I’ve read about and never wanted to visit. I found myself knocking on the door of Descartes, thinking if I could just hold enough things at arms length conceptually, I could make peace and invite them all back afterward. But of course that’s not how it goes or how it could go.

No! That’s the way of the weak. I will try harder. I’ll find the answers and vindicate myself! I will tear and ball and pitch every idea with vigorous animosity toward its imperfections. I. will. share. nothing. Not until I’m sure it will be good enough.

This is how you remain silent for months. Be content to write for yourself, and kill anything that dares to recommend itself to others.

I can’t write for my critics by becoming someone they would approve of. I used to believe in common ground, but now I can no longer conjure the thought. It feels exhausted. Where you are, I cannot be. Where I am, you may not wish to be. Perhaps isolation was inevitable, with or without the pandemic.

I am only lately admitting to myself that trying to find the right starting point is a misguided quest. (Perhaps someone will say there is a way. Good! Let him take it.) Where was I going? I just wanted to share something of worth, something beautiful that struck me. I wanted to share it in a way that guaranteed you saw it, too. But of course that’s a fool’s errand. I can’t make you see. (I wrote that in a song over 20 years ago. Apparently even if you see, you may forget.)

So I want to go back to sharing. And I want to renounce the thought of seeking some artificial quarters from which to write.

Some will say it takes courage to share your writing, but I don’t want to risk cheapening the word. But sharing anything in public means you can’t control the way it is received. It may be ignored, unappreciated, misunderstood, or condemned. And perhaps you may be, too, by extension. But I have to believe that if something is worthy of sharing, it’s also worthy of the risk involved.

And what are the risks, really? That all my friends should prove to be critics? I don’t really fear that, and only by confronting the possibility can I put it to bed. That writing in an unscholarly way might bar me from a chance to do something more rigorous? That would be an odd punishment for so little a crime. That my convictions prove a clumsy fit to any community that I would want to join? Well, let’s just say if we can’t learn to live together, we’re going to die alone. (Thanks, Jack.)

So I’m going to try and go back to writing in public more often and with less calculation, to “say something true in public every day.” Then what will be, will be.

And what you will see, you will see.

Just Do Something (Book Review)

I never changed my major in college and I’m proud of that. But that’s only because nobody forced me to sign papers any sooner in the process. I had a hard time choosing a major. I expected it to be romantic: our eyes would meet across a crowded hallway and I would just know this was my destiny. This is where I belong.

Like so many people, I grew up with a sense that my career mattered to God. But in college I figured it was up to me to make it work. It wasn’t until seminary that my views shifted. After all, I felt like seminary was a calling, that it was God’s idea. So I tried to seek God’s direction on what to do.

This is where I might have benefited from Kevin DeYoung’s book Just Do Something. It was written by then, and it would have helped immensely, but I didn’t think to look for anything like it.

DeYoung is writing not just to those trying to sort out their field of expertise, but prospective marriage, moves, job changes, and any other decision big or small. This is because there is a tendency in some circles of evangelicalism to seek feedback from God on anything and everything. DeYoung thinks that’s a mistake and he makes a strong biblical case as to why.

The standard story is something like this: God has a plan for your life, therefore your job is to live it out. This means your decisions must align with the plan, and since God’s wisdom is higher than ours (and sometimes appears to be foolish) we should not expect the path to be obvious. So we must check in with Him, looking for divine light on the path so we know which road to take.

DeYoung admits that God sometimes gives personal direction in the Scriptures, but far more often He doesn’t. Neither does He command us to seek out this sort of thing. DeYoung argues that God wants us to live our lives by the principles of wisdom and the moral code that He lays out in Scripture. Rather than basing your life on detailed messages and hints along the way, we are to base our lives on principles and chart our own course.

DeYoung writes from a conservative Reformed perspective, so it’s no surprise that he would highlight the text of Scripture over experience and a rational approach over an intuitive one. But he is not content to simply draw denominational boundaries; he is making a case that this is the biblical approach, the one all Bible-believing Christians should adhere to.

He begins with an affirmation of God’s providence and the principles that describe what God desires of us. These are traditionally thought of as two different forms of God’s will. He calls these God’s will of decree and will of desire. He adds to this a third: the questionable will of God’s direction. To refute this he relies less on Scripture and more on cultural analysis.

While one might wish for a stronger biblical case, it is difficult to prove a negative. Instead, DeYoung relies on key passages that talk about seeking God’s will and how they describe nothing like the will of direction.

Incidentally, when I was a college student we had a guest speaker at our campus ministry address this subject and arrive at the same conclusion. It felt like bait-and-switch at the time, but since then I have come to see that this is a faithful representation of Scripture.

There are a few times where DeYoung interacts with those who champion the opposing view, but they don’t appear to represent the best thinkers and arguments on the subject. Perhaps this is fine for an entry-level text, but deeper engagement would greatly strengthen his case.

Overall, the writing is accessible and engaging, and the argument is clear and well-organized. It makes this a great contribution to anyone’s library, whether high school senior or retiree.

I personally found the argument compelling. I have written in response to God Told Me, by a local pastor, and if I recall I was sympathetic but ultimately not convinced. These days, I have a number of friends who subscribe to the philosophy of hearing God’s direction as part of regular spiritual life, which makes this read a timely reminder. While I don’t personally feel the need to challenge their thinking, I do want to remain clear on mine. This book will no doubt continue to be an indispensable resource.

Book Review: Is There a Doctor in the House?

There are few decisions I regret more than the desire to be “normal” again. After seminary, I dove right into a year of doctoral studies before realizing I needed a break. The break was glorious. I read all kinds of things, worked through personal issues, thought great thoughts, did “practical” things. And all the while, I was driven by this need to keep going, one that had been instilled at Dallas.

And then a few years later, with a full-time job, a growing family, a mortgage, and some heartbreak in ministry, I wanted out. I wanted the book monkey off my back. I wanted to be “free.” I decided to be normal. I switched from reading books to listening to audiobooks. I added politics and comedy to my podcast diet. And slowly, eventually, things shifted.

And now I want nothing more than to have it back.

Last year, while up in the middle of the night with our newborn, I decided to forego the usually Netflix, opened Kindle instead, and began reading Is There a Doctor in the House? An Insider’s Story and Advice on Becoming a Bible Scholar by Ben Witherington III. It was a great choice. Accessible enough to read in between tasks, but relevant to my ongoing interests in education and theology.

In this book, Witherington surveys the various facets of Bible scholarship, such as language studies, theological studies, historical studies, literary analysis, writing, etc. Each chapter builds on the last, is full of wisdom on each of its topics, and is seasoned with personal experiences. And indeed, one of the charms and frustrations of biblical scholarship is the breadth required for study. A great many skills go into the work. Covering such broad subjects in a limited space is impossible, but the essentials are here for anyone looking for a reliable map.

Witherington writes from the Wesleyan branch of the family, and while this informs his experiences, it does not appear to shade his judgements. One would be hard-pressed to find how the advice might be different from another denominational perspective.

In terms of what may be lacking, I might start by recommending a chapter on administration. The politics of higher education are in one sense unique, and in another not at all. Someone aspiring to a career in higher education would benefit from those principles and insights as much as any others. That it is missing is not surprising; it is difficult to speak candidly about politics without making enemies, or at least tweaking noses. But his chapter on character might offer a beneficial first step toward this end.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, the experiences in the book are those of a past generation. Now do not misunderstand, that is incredibly valuable and rich. But someone looking to do doctoral studies today should be aware that much has changed in the past few decades. Jobs are more scarce. Costs are higher. Schools are changing. Again, this is not to denigrate the insights that are here, but to warn against those who might imagine their journey will be much the same as one undertaken in the age before the Internet.

Still, for someone wondering what this life looks like, this is an excellent primer. I imagine it would be most helpful for Bible college students, or perhaps first-year seminarians. I found value in it as a post-graduate drop-out because it affirmed many of the things that I had come to doubt about myself and the system. It reminded me that there is a place for people with the interests I have. It reminded me of the good in things about which I had grown cynical. And ultimately, it was an invitation to dream again about what could be.

Respectability

Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side.
And a scribe came up and said to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

Matthew 8:18-20 (ESV)

For most of church history, it was easy to draw connections between Scripture and the best learning of the day. But as the scientific revolution picked up steam, it began to generate more and more conflicts with traditional Christian teaching about the world and the way that it works. Some (e.g., deists) were increasingly willing to use worldly knowledge to reinterpret their faith. Others were willing to disengage to one degree or another, focused on the truth of Scripture above all.

As the standard account goes, Schleiermacher began the liberal theological tradition by proposing a synthesis: keep religion as a matter of personal experience, and let human learning advance unhindered. Instead of being religious, you can be spiritual. Instead of insisting the Bible is true, you can say that it’s true for you.

Conservative Christians were able to keep up with science to some degree until evolution forced a decision: will you insist that the accounts of the Bible actually happened? Or will you admit that we now know the truth about human origins and must reinterpret the Bible?

Those who maintained their resistance came to be called fundamentalists.

Those who returned a generation later to insist that the Bible should make an impact on culture were called the new evangelicals. They worked hard to engage with the best learning, to resist the urge to retreat and let the liberals and other non-Christians take control of society. Their students became formidable scholars in fields like philosophy and history. They engaged not just higher learning, but politics, the arts, and business.

I grew up in the age that was reaping the benefit of these efforts. I could buy Christian alternatives to popular music, I could watch Christian leaders fight for biblical values on TV, and when I came to seminary, it had been over a decade since The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind heightened the efforts to arm the minds of believers for action.

But the more I study evangelical history, the more convinced I am that this desire to engage came with strings attached. Engagement is good, depending on how you define it. But neo-evangelical engagement sought respectability. And I believe that has turned out to be too high a price to pay.

Respectability has sent some of our best minds to secular schools. Respectability has sent some of our best schools on secular quests. Respectability necessarily subjugates Christian values to secular values. What is good scholarship? Don’t ask the Christian scholar. Ask the real scholar. What is good art? Don’t ask the Christian musician, ask the real musician. What is a good school? Don’t ask the church. Ask the secular accrediting agency.

How does a good enterprise go off-track? Well, there are many ways. But respectability is a well-worn path: just get the credentials, then they’ll respect you. Just add that degree to your resume, or that scholar to your faculty. Just take seriously the work of non-Christian scholars, then they’ll respect you. What? You haven’t read so-and-so? How am I supposed to take your work seriously? What? You reject his work?! I don’t find your reasons compelling.

We are always on the lookout for a respectable face, a respectable theory, a respectable mission, and in the end it always turns out to be bait in the trap. Just a little more. Just a little more. You’re so close! And then you find yourself among the enlightened few, so glad you’re not like those fundamentalists. You are different. You are respected.

But I don’t mean to speak too broadly. I’m sure there are many faithful Christians who have earned the respect of their secular peers, and for that I am grateful. But I wonder how many of them are capable of telling these peers something they don’t want to hear. I believe they are out there. But if evangelicalism has launched a thousand scholars, I fear only a handful have the ability to take a stand when needed.

It is perhaps easier in the arts, where there is a personal element to the craft. But how many Christian artists, if given the choice between respectability and rejection, choose the former so that they can have a bigger platform and make more of a difference? The problem is, the larger the platform gets, the more you have to lose. There are precious few people, I fear, who are willing to lose it.

Ah, and then there’s politics. We’ve done away with the old kind of respectability, for better or worse, but don’t be fooled: respectability has only moved. It’s the ability to raise money and gather crowds. It’s always been this, of course, but it used to be that the old kind of respectability was necessary to get you those things. (At least for a time. I don’t doubt that the days before television saw a much wilder political spirit.) If you want to make it these days, you have to earn your respectability with the right buzzwords, attacking the right opponents, signaling the right virtues. How much Christianity do you have to give up? Only as much as it takes to win.

I’m speaking in broad terms for the sake of time; each of these points should be a paper with proper evidence and argument. But this is a blog, and I speak as the medium allows.

Whatever you are trying to keep in motion, there will eventually come a day when you fear you will have to close the doors because you are not respectable enough. Maybe it’s a party, a movement, a church, a school, a denomination, or some other organization. You wanted to make a difference for Christ. What do you do now?

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

I know you’re willing to work your way to the top with Jesus. But are you willing to be homeless with Him?

Writing on the Way

Today I’m writing on my smartphone. Normally I only use my phone for notes, and especially voice memos, but I haven’t been posting enough and the phone is always with me, so it’s time to learn something new.

I’m writing on the way to learning to be a better parent. I saw an interview the other day which really got me thinking about how I parent. The video was about agency, not parenting per se, but it helped me to see a missing piece. Still working out what it means, but the new direction has been a breath of fresh air.

I’m writing on the way to theological community. One of the persistent struggles since seminary has been finding a theological place to belong. In seminary, I found people with similar interests, and even though we had diverse backgrounds, we could work together. But since then I have found myself a “free grace” guy in a lordship church, a baptist in a CRC town, a traditionalist in a modern church, and a conservative in progressive times. I have been challenging my assumptions, trying to make sure that our differences are worth preserving. And the process is teaching me much about the role of doctrine and how to deal with objections. Soon I expect to post articles that will draw lines that may eventually put most of my friends on the outside of one or another stance. Without a stable theological community, this is a foreboding thought, but I am ready to accept whatever comes.

I’m writing on the way to music, of all things. I starting to let music back into my life last year when the lockdowns began, and the time away from writing and playing has done me good. I’m fixing songs I used to be stuck on, finishing projects that have been open for many years, and finding inspiration for new work for the first time in a a very long time. Not sure what God is doing here, but the idea of teaching theology through music is not lost on me.

I’m writing on the way to new professional projects. In the past month I went from mostly church projects to a resurgence of university projects. I’m grateful, and they have been good for me, but I do feel the loss of freedom to pursue my own studies.

I recognize this part isn’t very substantive, and that it’s more of a journal entry than anything, but the point was to write anything, so from that standpoint it’s a success.

Still letting the perfect get in the way of the good, I suppose. But I was also reminded yesterday that while I want to share everything I’m learning and make things to help others, simply studying is good on its own. it doesn’t have to be shared to be worth my time. I don’t have to squeeze every ounce of utility out of an act.

Addressing Anger

Preface

Preaching is about proclaiming what God said, and it expects the hearer to respond. In order to keep God’s words and intentions at the forefront, when I preach I always choose a passage to unpack rather than a topic to survey.

However, on this occasion, when the pastor encouraged me to ask God what I should preach on, instead of a passage, I was drawn to the topic of anger. After extensive biblical research, I concluded that the passage that most directly addressed this subject was found in Matthew 5:17–30. However, I still used quite a few other passages to unpack what Jesus was saying, so it still felt more scattered to me than I normally like.

Matthew 5: Addressing Anger

Here Jesus clarifies the problem of anger and the way to address it. But looking to the rest of Scripture helps us understand why, and especially why we can’t take refuge in the (very biblical) category of righteous anger.

Big idea: even the anger in your heart is liable to God’s judgment, so pursue healing through reconciliation instead.

Outline:

  1. In God’s courtroom, it’s not just your actions but your heart that’s on trial.
  2. Anger—even righteous anger—spoils overnight.
  3. Healing comes when we lay aside our anger, pursue reconciliation, and prioritize the wrongs we have committed.

Special thanks to Pastor Thomas Lutke for the invitation to preach and to the good people of County Line Community Church.

Zechariah’s Story of Grace

Preface

Preaching is one of my favorite forms of teaching. I love meditating on a passage and trying to discern the best way to communicate what God has said.

I think there is something unique about preaching on a Sunday morning: the whole congregation gathered to sit under the Word together. I don’t see it as an optional activity—even though it may look different in different cultures and circumstances. When we listen to the Bible as a church family, we are united and refreshed.

Typically, I don’t share my sermons. I make them available for those who are interested, but I normally don’t draw attention to them. This is for at least two related reasons: first, my primary concern when preaching is the people in the room. Second, I don’t want to be tempted to promote myself.

That being said, now that I am investing more of my time in creating and sharing educational resources, it seems right to me to share these sermons as educational resources, too. Unlike some of my other efforts and interests, these are hyper-focused on Scripture, and any opportunity I can get to point people to the Word, I want to take.

Luke 1: Zechariah’s Story

This sermon was delivered on the first Sunday after Thanksgiving, as we begin to turn our attention to Christmas. I was drawn to the story in Luke 1 where God prepares the way for John the Baptist—not a story I’m used to hearing around the holidays.

Big idea: The way in which God brought John the Baptist into the world indicates the exceptional ministry he would have in preparing the way for Jesus Christ.

Outline:

  1. God prepares the way for His work
  2. God’s work calls us to respond in faith
  3. God’s grace includes the weak in His work

Special thanks to Pastor Mike McCrumb for sharing his pulpit with me and the warm welcome of the people there at Delton Community Church.