Tag: faith

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What Might Be or Could Have Been: Thoughts on Anxiety, Faith, and Providence

By Jim Spiegel

Several weeks ago a young friend of our family—I’ll call her Lisa—choked on a grape and required assistance in order to clear her windpipe and regain the ability to breathe. Once the grape was dislodged she was fine, and no medical attention was needed. However, understandably, Lisa was very shaken up by the incident, as were her parents.

In the days that followed, their entire family was prompted to some deep reflection about Lisa’s brush with death and the tragedy that was averted. As good friends of the family, we too reflected on the horrible “would could have been.” Eventually, this thought occurred to me: It was never God’s intention for Lisa to die that day, as is obvious from the fact that she did not die. In fact, from the standpoint of divine providence, it wasn’t even close. From our finite human perspective, yes, it seemed like “a close call.” But with God there are no close calls. There are just two categories: what he ordains and figments of our own imaginations.

A question for us, then, is whether we will let our imaginations cause us anxiety and fear.

Regarding the past, we may experience anxiety as we either regret or cringe over “close calls.” “If only I had done X, then situation Y would not have occurred.” Here we let our failure or oversight haunt us indefinitely. Or we may think, “if I had not done X, then this horrible thing would have happened. Oh no—I might not be so lucky next time!” In that case, we displace a positive turn of events with anxiety over a bad thing that nearly happened but didn’t.

And regarding the future, we worry over what might happen. “What if X happens, then Y or Z follows, which would be terrible!” Here we are allowing another kind of figment of our imagination to torment us. If it never happens, then we burden ourselves with something completely fictional. We are victims of our own psychological self-torture.

But, we may rationalize, doesn’t worry at least serve the positive function of preparing us for circumstances that will eventually come to pass? Well, not usually. This recent study showed that over 91% of the things we worry about never come true. And in the cases of many people, 100% of the things they dreaded never came to pass. This seems to suggest that worrying really is a waste of time and mental energy.

In all such cases, we choose to live in the subjunctive mood rather than reality. And we pay a costly price: peace of mind.

Of course, worry is a universal human experience. We all struggle with anxiety about the past and the future. The only differences among us is how much we do this.

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus addressed the problem, saying, “Do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Mt. 6:25). And his disciple Peter would later say, “cast all your anxiety on the Lord, because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7).

These and other biblical admonitions seem to suggest that worry is under our control. As Kant’s dictum goes, “ought implies can.” That is, if there is a duty to do X, then we must be capable of doing X. If Scripture tells us to cast our anxiety on the Lord, then it must be possible to do this. But how?

I wish I had a simple formula, but I don’t. Prayer is an obvious starting point. Perhaps it’s also the ending point. And all the points in between. Also, I believe consciously leaning on the fact of divine providence is critical. If God really is in ultimate control of all that happens and “all the days ordained for me were written in [His] book before one of them came to be” (Ps. 139:16), then there is no reality beyond what he stipulates. I have found that serious meditation on this fact can be a powerful mental salve.

What could be or what would be (logical possibilities and causal counterfactuals) may be worth our attention for the sake of contingency planning. But we are wise to fight against the temptation to obsess over them. And it is the fight of a lifetime, since the temptation to worry is among the most persistent of all temptations in human experience.

So, in the end, like all temptations, worry is a test of faith. How much do we really trust God’s power, love, and faithfulness?

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Dealing with Anxiety about the Suffering of Others

By Jim Spiegel

Recently a student shared with me her struggle to concentrate on her school work due to the COVID-19 pandemic:

I know that suffering is always going on in the world, and if we let that get to us we’ll never live at all and we can’t help at all. However, for me to be expected to sit from the comfort of my own home and continue my education like normal when I know that there are people that do not share the same simple luxuries as I do seems almost blasphemous. I’ve always known that God has made me have my heart broken for the sake of others and right now it is shattered from all of the hurt in the world and I feel like we’re not addressing any of it. I feel completely helpless and like this is not how we should be responding. And I don’t know what to do. . . . How do I find motivation when all of this is going on?

Can you identify with this? This is a common struggle for people who are especially sensitive to suffering in this world. And it’s to be expected that the pandemic would heighten the difficulty for some folks. So what can one say in response?

If you share this struggle, the first thing I would do is affirm your sensitivity to the suffering of others. This sort of empathy is a gift, and God can use it mightily to motivate you to help and serve others. However, as with all gifts and special talents, it also presents certain challenges and temptations, and the temptation to anxiety and becoming overburdened by others’ sufferings is one of these. So you will need to address this head-on with some relevant biblical truths. One of these is Jesus’ command in John 14:1, “Do not let your heart be troubled.” The fact that he issues this directive as a command indicates that we bear some responsibility in keeping ourselves from indulging anxious thoughts. Because, as Kant says, “ought implies can,” this means we are capable of resisting the temptation to anxiety and a troubled heart.

So this raises the question, how does one do that? The answer is apparent in the following verses of John 14, where Jesus says, “You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” In short, we must exercise faith in Christ and specifically remember the eschatological promise that he will make all things well for his people in the next world. Jesus addresses anxiety also in Matthew 6:31-34 and Luke 12:22-31. In these passages, too, he reminds us that we should trust God, and know that he will take care of us. So worry and anxiety are basically a lack of faith. Now this applies to everyone, so when you are worrying about other people, some of whom perhaps you’ve never met, who are experiencing hardships that you have been spared, this is no less a lack of faith. You need to trust that God is taking care of them as well.

It might be helpful to consider how Jesus conducted himself during his time on earth. Note that he was not anxious about the millions of people around the world who were suffering in all sorts of ways, even though he could have brought all of that suffering to an end with just a snap of his fingers. Ponder that for a moment. In fact, he often enjoyed himself and lived in relative comfort. He even participated in a wedding banquet, and his first miracle was to create a luxurious item—wine out of water (John 2). So if we are to follow Jesus’ example, then we must recognize that it is appropriate to enjoy certain comforts and luxuries—in moderation of course. I would add that this, too, is one of our duties as God’s children—to thankfully enjoy the bounty that God may grant us at various times in our lives.

Furthermore, consider the Golden Rule in this context. When you are suffering in some way, is it your preference or desire that all sorts of other people whom you may or may not know become sorrowful and downtrodden because of your pain? Or would you rather just a few people close to you comfort you in your time of need? For me, it is definitely the latter. I certainly don’t want lots of people to be burdened by my pain. So the Golden Rule would seem to recommend that I be particularly concerned to help, assist, and comfort those whom I personally know to be in need and whom I am able to help or comfort in some way. To be extremely burdened by the suffering of countless people whom I have never met is a failure to abide by the Golden Rule. Moreover, it cannot help anyway and can be paralyzing, as my student seems to have experienced. So even though your anxiety might be prompted by a concern for other people, it actually makes you less helpful to others, so it is self-defeating.

So there are multiple biblical reasons (i.e., Jesus’ command, the example of Jesus, and the Golden Rule) not to be constantly troubled or anxious about the suffering of others out there whom you haven’t even met but to be productive and focus on blessing and serving others with whom you make contact in the course of your day. This is the best we can do as mortal, finite people. And we must trust God to take care of others all over the world. Remember that they are his children, and he loves them infinitely more than you do, and even if they suffer tragedies in this life (as the Kennedy family recently did, yet again) we must trust that God will comfort them, whether in this life or in the next world.

Again, the key is faith and trust in God. But now what can we do to build that faith and trust in God? The most effective step is prayer. See, for example, Ps. 34:4, Phil. 4:6-7, 1 Pet. 5:6-7, and Rom. 8:26-28. And if you struggle with this sort of anxiety, here is something you can do as a spiritual discipline. Whenever you feel that unease welling up within you, pray for one minute for the people about whom you are concerned. Or, if there is no one in particular who is the object of your anxiety, then pick some person, family, community, city, or nation and pray for them. And be sure to commit them into God’s good care and declare your trust in God regarding their welfare. If you make that a regular practice, I expect that will go a long way in resolving your struggles with anxiety. Give it a try. “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:16). And that power and effectiveness pertains not just to the persons and situations about which one prays, but also one’s own soul.

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The Penitent Thief: Why His faith Was Great

By Jim Spiegel

One of the most remarkable passages in the Holy Week Gospel narratives regards the responses to Jesus on the part of the two criminals crucified on either side of him. Luke gives us this account:

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”

Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Lk 23:39-43)

It is clear from Jesus’ response to the second criminal that this man has been forgiven and will not be condemned in the afterlife. Some people might find this disturbing, since this man has demonstrated relatively little faith and repentance, which are crucial to a biblical concept of salvation. But there are several things to note about the faith of this penitent thief on the cross.

For one thing, he declares his faith in Christ publicly, and as Jesus said in one of his earlier discourses, “Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven” (Mt. 10:32). Secondly, the thief demonstrates genuine repentance, acknowledging his life of sin when he says “we are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.” As is clear from Scripture, there is no salvation without repentance (cf. Acts 2:38), so it is crucial that this man demonstrate true penitence. Although his remaining time on earth was very short at this point, he repented to the extent that he was still capable of doing so.

Thirdly, the penitent thief declares his faith in opposition to his fellow thief, who
“hurled insults” at Jesus. Apparently, the penitent thief himself had also verbally abused Jesus, given Matthew’s crucifixion account, where we read that just as the chief priests and teaches of the law mocked Jesus, “in the same way the robbers who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him” (Mt. 27:44). So after initially joining his fellow thief in mocking Jesus, the penitent thief had a change of heart, culminating in his plea to Jesus to remember him in the next world.

Fourthly, the penitent thief declares his faith that Jesus is indeed a king, citing Jesus’ coming “kingdom.” This he does despite Jesus’ extreme humiliation, having been beaten to a bloody pulp, and now writhing on a cross with a sign above his head mocking the very idea regarding which this thief is testifying sincere belief. Perhaps at this time even Jesus’ own disciples, who, with the exception of John, had by this time scrambled into hiding, would have been rather skeptical of Jesus’ messianic kingship. But not this penitent thief. He believed despite all appearances to the contrary. Now that is faith.

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Courage, Faith, and a Little Bit of Crazy: Reflections on Entering the Corporate World

By Amy Spiegel

There are leaps of faith one takes in life which take all three. Getting married. Having kids. Jumping out of airplanes, though I think marriage and parenthood take a lot more courage, faith, and crazy. At 45, I thought I was past making those big leaps but last summer I proved myself wrong. Obviously, Jim and I are still happily married and our baby-making days are behind us. I didn’t go parachute jumping, though at times it felt like I had. Ironically the scariest decisions I’ve made in decades involved protecting people from the risks and dangers of life.

After years of staying home with the kids and struggling on one income, we knew it was time for me to find a full-time job. I loved being home with the kids, most of the time anyway; anyone who tells you they “loved every minute of it” has either forgotten a lot of minutes or is lying. To be honest, I have never seen myself as someone who would have a career. If money weren’t a factor, I would have been happy to stay at home. But with a kid in college and three to follow, that wasn’t in the cards.

So, after twenty years of odd jobs and false starts, I set out to get a job. I had some ideas of what I would like to do and what I thought I would be good at. I cleaned up my resume and waited. And waited and waited and waited. I had known it might be tricky for me to get my foot in the door, but I won’t lie—my pride took a hit. Out of desperation, I went to an interview with American Income Life, a life insurance company I had never heard of.

I sat through the interview thinking, “There is no way in a million years I am going to do this.” I studied for my licensing test thinking “I’ll do this while I look for something else.” And I prayed “Lord, if you don’t want me to do this, please help me to FAIL this test.” And I repeated that prayer many times during the 60+ hour weeks of training to become an insurance agent, right up to the point where I fell in love with my job and the people I work with and serve.

I won’t bore you with all the details of my job. I’ve done that to my family enough already. But I do want to share a few lessons I’ve learned over the last seven months. Hopefully they will speak to you next time life requires a big leap on your part.

Lesson 1: Don’t let plans get in the way of following the path God has clearly laid before you. It’s hard to believe all the friendships, opportunities, not to mention paychecks, I would have missed out on if I hadn’t taken this job.

Lesson 2: You are never just a missionary. You are always getting back as much, if not more, than you are getting. In the office and when I’m meeting with prospective clients and policyholders, I’m always looking for ways to make their day a little better. But I can’t count the times someone has offered a kind word just when I needed it the most; a glass of water or a shared laugh or a cry. Try not to be too selfish to help when you can, but pray to be humble enough to take help when it’s offered. You never can tell where that help is going to come from. I’ve spent many a delightful afternoon with clients thinking I was there to help them only to realize they were the ones that lifted my spirits or brightened an otherwise gloomy day.

Lesson 3: Don’t quit. That’s all you have to do. When I hear of the amazing things people in my office and company are accomplishing, the common thread that runs through all their stories is that they didn’t quit. That’s it. Of course there are times when quitting is the prudent thing to do, but we are capable of so much more than we think we are. Just keep going and you will surprise yourself.

Lesson 4: You are never in a holding pattern. You might feel like you are living in limbo but there is no such thing. I spent twenty years at home, changing diapers, doing laundry, etc. and assumed that I wasn’t acquiring any additional marketable skills. But when I came to work for American Income Life, I realized I had developed mad skills in hard work, patience, and persistence that I definitely didn’t have in my twenties.

I sell life insurance but in reality there is no such thing. There is no insurance that gives you the future for which you are planning. I can help you protect your family’s financial future in the event of your death. But I can’t prevent that death. Or all of the unexpected bumps along the way to that death. But sometimes those bumps and detours and unexpected side trips turn out not be detours at all. Sometimes it takes a while to realize you are headed in the right direction after all. It just takes a little courage, faith, and, of course, crazy.

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My Debates with John Loftus

By Jim Spiegel

Last week I twice debated atheist author John Loftus.  The first debate was hosted by Brookville Road Community Church in Indianapolis.  Approximately 600 people attended the event, and you can view it here.  The second debate, which was held the very next night, was hosted by the Free Thought Fort Wayne group at the Allen County Public Library auditorium.  The audience at this event was smaller—about 150—and consisted of a higher concentration of religious skeptics.

At both events Loftus and I debated the question “Is Religious Faith Rational?”  I took the affirmative position while Loftus defended the negative thesis.  John is a veteran debater, having gone toe-to-toe with the likes of Dinesh D’Souza, Randal Rauser, David Wood, and others.  Spiegel at Indy DebateThis was my first experience at formal debate, so I was curious to see how it would go.  I certainly enjoyed Loftusit, and I found the time constraints to be the most challenging aspect of the experience.

There was an interesting wrinkle regarding the first event.  John’s van broke down in Muncie on his way to the Indy debate.  So the organizers contacted me to ask if I would pick him up on the way to the church, which I was happy to do.  Consequently, John and I were able to spend about an hour together getting to know one another before the first event.  We actually hit it off, and I think that helped set the tone for a cordial debate both nights.

Here is a piece about the Indy debate that appeared in the Daily Reporter.

I am interested in doing more debates with other atheists and religious skeptics.  In addition to the topic of the reasonableness of religious faith, I am happy to debate such issues as the problem of evil, the existence of God, the prospects of ethics without God, and other issues related to philosophy of religion.  So if you or someone you know would like to partner with me to do that, let me know!

 

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You Gotta Believe

By Jim Spiegel

Many atheists and agnostics like to declare that only religious people have faith.  However, if by “faith” one means a belief that ventures beyond the evidence or what can be strictly proven, then every (sane) person has significant faith.  In fact, all of us exercise lots of faith in many ways every day.  It is not only the “religious” folk who do so.

from Salvo Magazine

I explain why this is so in my article “You Gotta Believe” in the latest issue of Salvo.  I show how even some of our most basic and common sense beliefs are as unprovable as they are irresistible and that even the most rigorous scientist makes a number of assumptions that are essentially faith ventures.  Faith, it turns out, is unavoidable, despite what popular clichés might suggest to the contrary.

By the way, Salvo is a really cool magazine about society, sex and science.  So after you read my piece, be sure to subscribe.  And encourage all your friends (and enemies) to do so as well.

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The Boy Must Die

By Amy Spiegel

Last month, Jim and I put our oldest on a plane to South America for a semester studying abroad. Bailey and I are pretty close considering his age and gender and I will miss him as much in my capacity as his friend as I will as his mom, but don’t tell his friends that. It would be totally not cool which probably isn’t the “in” way to say that. Saying goodbye for five months was not easy, but frankIy, I have been surprised that it wasn’t harder. Sitting at the gate, waiting for him to board, I clearly heard God speak to my tear-clenched heart and I hope that what He said will influence the way I parent forever.

When Bailey was conceived, God placed Him right where he needed to be, buried deep inside my body where he could grow and be nurtured until he was ready to hatch. When he was physically ready to meet the world, it would have been unhealthy, not to mention more than a little uncomfortable, for him to have stayed longer. He had outgrown my body. In fact, when he was born, the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and he very easily could have died. His connection to me was literally killing him. See where I am going with this?

Once our children leave the relative comfort and safety of our bodies, they obviously still need us. We feed them and watch over them. We teach them little lessons like how not to poop in their pants and why the Beatles are the greatest rock band ever. And not so little lessons like who God is and what His plan for our lives is.

Since Bailey left, I have realized that Jim and I are in a new phase of parenting. One that involves a lot of protection and guidance but, thankfully, less bottom wiping. One that involves a lot more letting go and standing back. In a way, it is a death of sorts, the ending of one thing and the beginning of something new. The way I described it to a friend is that the boy must die so that the man must live. And this process of death and life, of metamorphosis from one stage of life to another isn’t something that should make me sad. It should be something to rejoice in. It’s the miracle I have been working toward since each of my kids first drew breath.

Since I started this post, I have had cause to regret its title. On his first day of school in Bolivia, Bailey, who is allergic to peanuts, chowed down some carrots in peanut sauce and end up in the hospital. I had anticipated the day being a challenging one, but more in the will-someone-sit-with-him-at-lunch kind of way not in the trouble-breathing-anaphylactic-shock kind of way.

As I tried not to panic, listening to the hoarse and groggy voice of my son coming from so many miles away, I had to ask myself “Who do I think Bailey belongs to?” God had told me to let go and it didn’t seem too hard a thing to do when he was healthy and safe and allergen-free. It’s easy to say “let the boy die” when it is just a metaphor for “let the boy grow up and get and job, do his own laundry and pay his own cell phone bill.” But what about when it means “let the boy make mistakes and suffer the consequences and experience pain and not have you to comfort him”?

My only comfort on the days when things don’t go well for my kids, or really my only comfort on any day is in remembering another son. It comes from remembering and trusting in the story about a son who had to leave his home and His Father. Who had to grow and learn and suffer on his own. The story that brings me such joy brought God a great deal of sorrow. In that story, the man died so that we all might live. Now it’s just up to me to believe it’s true and be brave enough to live accordingly.

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Recent Articles on Religious Belief and (the lack of) Intelligence

By Jim Spiegel

Recently, Touchstone published an article of mine entitled “Dumb Sheep” in which I address the common accusation (at least among atheists and religious skeptics) that Christians are less intelligent than non-religious folks.

Coincidentally, shortly after this was published a former student of mine named Ryan Woods alerted me to a recent publication of his entitled “The Skeptic’s Smart-Person Problem,” which appeared in Marginalia.  This is a tremendous piece, which is as enjoyable to read from a stylistic standpoint as it is informative about the issues he discusses.

While I’m at it, let me recommend a couple other recent articles relevant to this theme.  Here is Paul Miller’s Review of Mark Noll’s contemporary classic The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind.  Two decades after its publication, Noll’s book is still worth reflecting on.  And here is a piece by Andrew Byers’ entitled  “Is Christianity Anti-Intellectual” from Relevant Magazine.

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Our Stories Within the Story

By Amy Spiegel

I can always count on Maggie, our precocious seven-year-old, to inspire me to think outside the box. She is not one to color inside the lines, either literally or metaphorically.  She and I spend several hours a day one-on-one homeschooling, and she never fails to amaze me with her limitless imagination. Her “When-I-grow-up…” list grows by the hour and recently she seems to have added “color commentator” to her list of career aspirations. Not color commentator for football, mind you, or any other spectator sport. Why give the play-by-play of something as meaningless as sports when you could provide commentary on your own life. While hammering out an email, I’ll hear, “…and then the girl picked up her pencil and began to carefully print Zs” or “Maggie really hoped her mom would bring her snack soon because she was so hungry.”

Being a lover of narrative, I appreciate this gift that my daughter seems to have in seeing her life as a story, one to be enjoyed and cherished, sometimes to be endured. It isn’t easy to see the thread of story that runs through all our lives running through your own life story. Too often, we are too close up to see the themes and lessons. This time of year, many of us are focused on the Christmas story. Two thousand years removed from the events that changed human history forever, it’s easy to identify the main characters, to see the plot unfolding and rushing to the climax of the cross and empty tomb. But what was it like for the characters themselves, who weren’t storybook figures, only living between the pages of a fairytale? These were men and women of flesh and blood, often lacking in perspective, too immersed in the events of today to foresee the God-sized plan of which they were a part. This is a man, traveling with his betrothed, unable to find shelter. This is a young woman giving birth for the first time in a cave meant for beasts of burden, not the King of Kings. One has to wonder how much of it they really understood. Certainly the angelic visitations and Holy Spirit-inspired prophecies helped. But think of all the promises we are given, of God’s provision and love, of our ultimate destiny. Despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, how often are we tempted to doubt? How often do we give way to despair? How often are we stuck in the cave unable to feel the light of resurrection?

So this season, as you sit and ponder the lights of the tree, the gifts exchanged, and the pile of dishes to be washed, don’t forget to look up. Remember that your life, too, is a story being told. You may not know where you are going, but there is a light leading the way.

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My Presentation at Last Week’s EPS Meeting

By Jim Spiegel

Last week I attended the national meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society in San Francisco.  I attended many interesting sessions and my own session for the Evangelical Philosophical Society (entitled “Belief, Behavior, and the Necessary Conditions for Salvation”) went well, prompting much helpful feedback from the audience.

In my paper I note that the willingness on the part of some people to label themselves or others as “Christian” despite their chronic and extreme flouting of biblical moral standards is symptomatic of the view that the sole criterion for being a Christian is cognitive in nature—specifically, an intellectual affirmation of key doctrines.  I note that this view ignores the fact that certain behavioral standards are essential to being a Christian.  Consider these words of Jesus:  “Whoever has my commands and obeys them, he is the one who loves me.  He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love him and show myself to him…  If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching….  He who does not love me will not obey my teaching” (John 14:21-24).  Here Jesus defines love of himself not in terms of orthodox belief nor even, as our culture would prefer, passionate feelings, but in terms of obedience.

Some biblical passages even appear to make a strong connection between chronic disobedience and one’s eternal destiny, such as these assertions by the Apostle Paul:

Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God?  Do not be deceived:  Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God (1 Cor. 6:9-10).

The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies and the like.  I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God (Gal. 5:19-21).

Given the eternal ramifications of chronic, extreme wayward behavior, it would seem that false views about essential biblical moral teachings are likewise significant.  Therefore, I introduce the concept of “moral heresy” as a potentially useful conceptual tool in approaching this issue.  The ancient creeds tend to focus on historical issues (e.g., the virgin birth and the resurrection of Christ) and metaphysical issues (e.g. the Trinity and the divine incarnation of Christ).  The moral issues mentioned by Paul above are not addressed in any of the major church creeds or confessions, because they have never the source of significant debate in church history—that is, until the last few decades with regard to homosexual practice.

Next I note that since all expression of moral beliefs is a tacit endorsement of certain behaviors, publicizing one’s morally heretical views, whether or not one engages in the immoral practice oneself, might crucially undermine the faith commitment of others.  This fact appears to blur the line between beliefs and conduct in such a way as to significantly raise the stakes regarding contemporary ethical debates in the church, particularly regarding homosexuality.

Due to the current moral crisis in the American church, there is a high premium on moral discernment as well as personal virtue and integrity.  As the Apostle Paul warned the early church, “Watch your life and doctrine closely.  Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers” (1 Tim. 4:16).