So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! (James 3:5)
Ahh, for the days of purity and simplicity. I long for them.
The Apostle Paul longed for them. He feared for the Corinthian church, that they may have been led astray from what he called “the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ” (II Corinthians 11:3, NASB).
The 15th-Century religious cleric Thomas à Kempis said of these things: Purity and simplicity are the two wings with which man soars above the earth and all temporary nature. If he’s right about this, and I believe that he is, the question the statement begs is, “What are we soaring toward?”
A better rendering of the question might be: “Toward whom are we soaring?” That’s because, while we’re obligated as Christians to be truth-seekers, we need to recognize that, first and foremost, the truth lies in a person, in He who declared Himself to be the truth (John 14:6).
It’s one thing to be devoted to the truth. It’s quite another to be devoted to the author of truth.
To seek Jesus, one must have a degree of tunnel-vision. We must refuse to be distracted by the issues of life. We must remember that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.
Jesus is the main thing. We ought not to be distracted from Him.
A works-based theology distracts us from entering, by grace, what the author of Hebrews refers to as the “Sabbath-rest for the people of God” (4:9). Likewise, we should be careful not to be distracted from pure and simple devotion to Christ.
Yet, my lamentation persists. “Ahh, for the days of purity and simplicity.”
I lament because the times in which we live are political, polarized times. It seems that everywhere we look, especially since this is an election year, politics is everywhere—especially that of a particular stripe and color.
Camps that had been formed well before the death of George Floyd are now expressing their grievances in various ways—some of which are productive, others not so much. Outside the church, people are now, in the most literal of ways, at each other’s throats—or brandishing weapons, either to defend themselves or to intimidate others. Inside the church, the greater Christian church, I think that what had been a sanctuary may become its own tinderbox, if we’re not careful.
As a result, when I now go out in public, I half-expect that because I’m of a certain demographic, I’m to be hated by other demographics. Or, at the least, I expect that they’re expecting that I’m going to be hating them because of their demographic. The culture and the media have uncomfortably shaped my expectations, twisting them in ways I had never anticipated.
These aren’t real expectations, but I nonetheless feel programmed. No particular inter-racial/ethnic interactions that I’ve recently had have made me feel that way; those interactions have actually been quite wonderful.
No, It’s due to what the media has been feeding me, in the last month. As much as I’d like to cheer on one side or the other, the fights have lately been bloodier than ever; it’s well beyond rhetoric, at his point. Lives and livelihoods have been lost. And, more than ever, my stomach has been turning.
So I’ve tamped down the media; I’ve tried to simplify my thought processes. I’ve tried to eliminate the things that distract me from pure and simple devotion to Christ. As I inwardly seek to upwardly connect with God in a more singular fashion, I try and outwardly love others with greater purity and simplicity.
Yet, multi-directional simplicity is somewhat challenging, these days. As I’ve mentioned, we’re repeatedly being told to look at things through a certain lens. As this challenge keeps presenting itself, I keep going back to purity and simplicity, in all three directions: in relation to God, to others, and within myself.
I’ve resolved to push aside political agendas and love simply—with all the purity of heart that I can muster, with all the devotion with which God may enable me.
With this in mind, while some are calling for us to talk more, I’m calling for us to talk less. To be clear, I’m not telling anyone to “Shut up.” I’m simply asking for us to dial down the rhetoric.
While some would say that greater talking is constructive, I’m calling it destructive. While others will exercise their intention to talk more, I’m going to exercise my intention and talk less.
* * *
Andy Stanley is all about intentionality. The Christian Post quotes him, here, telling his congregation to ,“Look for an opportunity to love unconditionally someone with whom you disagree politically.”
His message sounds good, on the surface. But, as I’m hearing the Apostle Paul, Stanley’s message distracts from the idea of purity and simplicity. With too many words, he goes beyond looking for opportunities to love unconditionally and instructs others on what ought to be the direction of their love.
My reaction is this: To stop the command at “love unconditionally” leaves room for the Holy Spirit to direct the heart—whether it be toward someone with whom we might disagree politically, or toward another. To add to the command distracts from the apostle’s message.
Morgan Freeman seemed to agree with the apostle. In a 2005 interview with Mike Wallace (available here), he was asked about the subject of racism and what should be done about it. Though he wasn’t speaking on the subject of devotion to Jesus, he did suggest the need—at least in relation to one another—to simplify our language, and therefore our thought-processes.
Freeman’s answer to racism: Stop talking about it. He went on to explain that our lives need not be complicated by the hyphenated labels that some insist ought to be attached to our identities.
Of all the radical ideas being pushed in the culture—and, yes, even the church—Freeman’s may be the most radical. (Not that he is even pushing it; he only said so in response to a question.)
That’s because, while so many are ratcheting up the volume from so many speakers, from so many various perspectives, Freeman asks that we do something different: instead of trying to drown one another out, with more and more takes on the political climate, consider actually turning the volume down.
We might say that Freeman was speaking during a different time, a different era. I would then say that, in the larger sense, his message is timeless. It’s as timeless as Paul’s message of grounding us in simplicity, for it encourages us to do the same with one another—specifically, to consider speaking less and loving more.
And I have found, especially in relationship with my wife, that to consider saying less is to first consider feeling less about what I might consider important and instead consider looking for more common ground. I’ve found that when I consider putting my feelings aside, I can love more effectively.
I wonder if we can’t consider doing this more, within the culture. But I think the answer is that we can’t, because we’ve been more polarized and more radicalized than ever. I’m starting to think that the culture is irredeemable and is too lost for this to any longer be a relevant question.
The month of June may have turned me into a cynic, at least in relation to the greater culture in which we live. I hope this feeling doesn’t persist; I’m open to God directing me otherwise.
I’m hoping we can speak less within the church, and leave behind the divisive encumbrances of politics and other division. I hope that we would instead consider that we are one, as Jesus and the Father are one, and that Jesus wants us to be brought into complete unity, so that, in this oneness, the world would know that Jesus was sent by the world to redeem it from all division (John 17:23).
* * *
I hope that pure and simple devotion to Christ would, above all else, be that which unites us. I fear that, once we lose sight of that, then the church is in as much danger as the culture and we may be about to fracture beyond repair. I hope to not become a cynic in relation to the church, as well.
I pray that God would heal our wounds, that reconciliation on all levels would be sought, and that every ounce of division would set aside. I pray for pure and simple devotion to Christ. Paul didn’t think that was too much to ask. Neither do I.
—Kevin Hutchins
