Christian Living

Just over a week ago, an EF-5 tornado cut a mile-wide furrow through Oklahoma leaving death and devastation behind. Monday night, over 1100 miles away, I tucked my eight-year-old daughter into bed. As we normally do, we prayed together before she fell asleep. She wanted to continue to pray for “the tragedies in Boston and Connecticut” and then innocently asked if there were any more tragedies that we needed to pray for.

As I struggled to find words to tell her that, yes, in fact, there had been a tragedy just that afternoon, I realized how quickly she was losing her innocence. How quickly she would have to learn that tragedy is a recurring theme of this life; how quickly she would learn that some weeks you feel like you’re being pummeled again and again by the brokenness around you.

And yet, learning how to engage tragedy is one of the defining marks of maturity.

In this post my goal is to utilize the issue of homosexuality as a case study to demonstrate that the “Jesus + Nothing = Everything” approach to sanctification is not merely an academic wrinkle, but an error of such prodigious import that it threatens the very essence of the Christian church.

American culture has apparently reached a tipping point when it comes to homosexuality. It’s OK to be homosexual now. In fact, those of us who aren’t homosexual are apparently supposed to trip all over ourselves in our affirmation of homosexuals to make up for all those years in which American consensus stood against this vice. Blah, Blah, Blech. I’m disappointed, but not particularly devastated: this kind of thing really is an inevitable result of the non-foundational, democratic, and relativist worldview that America has been cultivating for decades.

Reposted, with permission, from Theologically Driven.

I am not a handy person. The tool chest in my basement contains only a few basic tools, many of which were given to me by my dad when I left home. Next to my tool chest is a 1995 edition of Home Depot’s very useful book Home Improvement 1–2–3, also given to me by my dad just after we bought our first house. Shortly after I received this book I decided to replace the light in our dining room with a combination ceiling fan/light: one wall switch/wire to govern two functions. I was perplexed. So I called my dad. And he asked me, “Mark, what did your Home Improvement 1–2–3 book say?” Good question. I looked it up, and voilà! The book gave me a list of tools (which, thanks to my dad, I already had), several carefully illustrated steps, and a little meter that told me exactly how long it would take for a novice to complete the task.

Notice that my dad played a significant role in this little project. He gave me the tools and he gave me the book. And when I asked him for help, he told me to consult the book. And yet I would not go so far as to say that “Dad + Nothing = Everything.”

Now there are some things about which I can say “Dad + Nothing = Everything.” According to John 1:13, my natural existence is due to “decision of a man.” My surname is mine by paternal grant. But when it came to home maintenance, the “Dad + Nothing = Everything” equation is inadequate. In this case, “Everything” is the sum of “Dad + tools + a step-by-step guidebook + a telephone number + parental encouragement to personal industry.”