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Hello, fellow wayfarers … What to do when you don’t know what to think about a situation in the news … Why an Amy Grant concert left me feeling hopeful about the future … How a man who has seen the worst of humanity advises us on keeping from cynicism and despair … A Rocky Mountain Desert Island Playlist … This is this week’s Moore to the Point. |
It’s Okay Not to Know What to Think About Iran |
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We are just a few days out from the United States’ bombing of nuclear facilities in Iran. My actual job is to have opinions on things, and yet I don’t know exactly what to think of this. |
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The US action happened on a Saturday night, and so a world full of pastors and lay leaders had to think of what to say the next morning. Add to that the reality that the situation seems to be changing minute by minute—“There’s a cease-fire,” “No, there’s not,” “Iran’s nuclear program is over,” “No, it’s not.” |
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So what do you do if you’re not sure what to say when someone asks you, “What do you think about Iran?” |
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When I say I don’t know what to think, that’s only partly true. I know that I don’t want Iran to have nuclear weapons. I know that the regime there is authoritarian and cruel to their own people, including my fellow Christians. |
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I know that I don’t want another regional war in the Middle East. And yet I know—even with my well-known thoughts about President Donald Trump—that none of us have access to the intelligence reports that he and the Pentagon have. |
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Maybe you are in a similar place. |
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“The fog of war” is a well-worn reminder that things often aren’t immediately clear in a time of military combat. But what about “the fog of peace” or, more precisely, “the fog of not knowing if we are at peace or at war”? |
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You might not know what to think, much less what to say. And I think that’s okay. |
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It doesn’t feel okay to many people right now because, in a social media age, we are expected to all have immediate opinions on everything right away. But on some things, what seems to be an instant reaction actually isn’t instant. |
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An attorney I was just talking to said that the least accurate courtroom movie he’s ever seen is the old 1992 classic, My Cousin Vinny. He probably thought this about the movie immediately, maybe even groaned out loud, the first time he saw it. |
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That wasn’t a “hot take.” He had years of experience practicing law. When he was staying up all night taking his LSATs, he wasn’t doing so to do film criticism. And when he was honing his craft year after year, it wasn’t so he could analyze Joe Pesci’s dialogue. |
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And yet all that study and all that experience created the kind of expertise where he can recognize what’s true to life and what’s not, much more than those of us who have never argued a case. |
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The stakes of war and peace are, of course, monumentally higher than a take on a movie, but the analogy is closer than we think. For many people, events around the world assume an unreal movie-like character. And for almost all of us, what we think about the Middle East will change the situation as much as that attorney’s opinion could retroactively rewrite the script of My Cousin Vinny. |
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But just because our views can’t change a dangerous world situation one way or the other doesn’t mean that we can be indifferent. After all, our views change us. |
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For President Trump or Secretary of State Rubio or an Air Force pilot over Iranian airspace, what’s most important for the country are their actual decisions, not so much the motives behind them. But what’s important for us on such things is the reverse. The motives for our viewpoints are more important than where we end up. |
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I don’t agree with strict pacifists on biblical interpretation grounds, but I respect their view. My Anabaptist ancestors consistently held the conviction that violence is always wrong, and I don’t think they were stupid. |
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For most Christian pacifists, the motive for opposing a war is not moral cowardice or conflict avoidance but a reasoned and reasonable reading of what Jesus demands of us. Likewise, most Christians who hold that war is sometimes necessary (as I do) generally do so for the same reasons, though with a different conclusion. |
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The convictional pacifist is much closer to the just-war proponent than he is to the one arguing that the ayatollah is really a good guy. Likewise, the convictional just-war proponent is much closer to the Christian pacifist than she is to a militarist who gets an adrenaline jolt from war and treats it all like a video game. |
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Our motives matter. If the Christian who sometimes thinks war is the right thing to do cannot pray for peace the way the Bible demands, something is wrong. Likewise, if the pacifist cannot pray for justice, something is wrong. |
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Even that conversation is misleading, though, because very few people make decisions based on prior convictions. |
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The pull right now is to make those decisions entirely tribally. I am not a Trump supporter, so I ought, this view goes, to conclude immediately that the bombings were reckless and wrong. Or you might be a Trump supporter, and the pressure is for you to conclude that his action was wise and decisive, full stop. The cultural pressure is against anyone saying, “I don’t know whether this was the right thing or not; we will see.” |
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Christians, however, are called to wisdom. Our Lord’s brother, James, told us that “the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere” (James 3:17, ESV throughout). |
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Wisdom means knowing the limits of what we can know and being open to altering our viewpoints when new factors become clear—even if that doesn’t fit with what is tribally demanded. |
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The “shock and awe” on Saddam Hussein’s Iraq over 20 years ago seemed to be a rout; now, looking back, we know better. Many people wanted our country out of Afghanistan, and celebrated that decision, until they saw the chaos and bloodshed of the way the US exited. |
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As with many other things, there are (at least) two ways to fall short on what’s right and true. James warned of a “double-minded man, unstable in all his ways” (1:8). But Jesus also told of two sons whose father asked them to work in the vineyard. One said no, “but afterward he changed his mind and went,” while the other said he would go but didn’t. Jesus then asked, “Which of the two did the will of his father?” (Matt. 21:31). |
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He then said of the religious leaders around him: “For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even when you saw it, you did not afterward change your minds and believe him” (v. 32). |
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Our opinions on what’s the best way forward on a news item are not nearly as important as the questions about which Jesus was asking, of course. But sometimes, our reaction to such things can give us a little test of our bent. |
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Sometimes “I don’t know” is a lazy refusal to think, or, worse, a fearful refusal to do what’s right. But sometimes “I don’t know” is the best answer, even as we pray for wisdom to do the next right thing. |
An Evening That Made Me Hopeful |
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I am not normally nervous to speak. I do it all the time and have for over 30 years. But last Wednesday, Amy Grant was there and I was 15 years old all over again. She was a major part of my soundtrack back in those days—and ever since. |
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We were gathered at an event here at Otter Creek Church, near where I live, in support of those with HIV/AIDS and other diseases in Africa who are dying or imperiled by the cuts to PEPFAR, the program started by President George W. Bush that has saved millions of lives. |
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For the program, our friend Charlie Peacock talked about working with Bono in building coalitions at the start of the idea. Former Senate majority leader Bill Frist, a medical doctor, talked about how effectively the initiative has worked. At the end of her concert, Amy modeled for everyone how to call and leave a voicemail for a member of Congress to encourage them to think about those who are dying—by doing it live in front of the audience from the stage. |
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I came away really hopeful because of the more than 1,000 people who were there out of concern for endangered people in a faraway place. And I was able to meet some of you there afterward. Good things are happening, even in turbulent times. |
How to Care About Gospel and Justice |
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Have you ever had someone say one offhand sentence and it sticks with you, coming to mind repeatedly? |
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I had one such moment during our Wednesday-night book club when Gary Haugen, president of International Justice Mission, said that he’s learned after decades of working on matters of modern-day slavery that “15 percent of people wake up in the morning wanting to know how to help the people around them. 15 percent of people wake up in the morning wanting to know how to hurt the people around them. And 70 percent of people are waiting to see who wins.” I think about that all the time. |
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This week on the podcast, Gary and I talked about what he said. What I wanted to know was this: How does someone like Gary, who has seen the darkest things imaginable—the trafficking of children, people who would enslave others to profit off their bodies or their labor—withstand cynicism or despair? |
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In our conversation, he tells us how he does it. We also talk about the objection that “justice issues” distract from the gospel. We discuss how people can know if God is calling them to some area of justice/mercy, and about how those who are doing this kind of work can keep from burnout. |
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Gary quotes from C. S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters: “Despair is a greater sin than any of the sins which provoke it.” He tells us how he learned from the writings of Dallas Willard and others about the kinds of spiritual disciplines he needs to stay grounded and hopeful. |
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You can listen to our conversation here. |
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Next week will be right up on Independence Day, so we’ll skip and be back on July 9. |
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Every other week, I share a playlist of songs one of you says you’d want to have on hand if you were stranded on a desert island. This week’s submission comes from reader Steve Tongue from Buena Vista, Colorado, who has organized his songs by artist and titled his list “Desert Island Jazz (and One Bluegrass)”: |
- “Alabama” was written in honor of the children killed in the 1963 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Montgomery.
- A Love Supreme is Coltrane’s magnum opus. “Resolution” is a study in musically building tension and releasing it …
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Keith Jarrett: I often listen to one of these tunes before a gig to get into the proper headspace before a performance … |
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Radiohead covers: I am a huge fan of Radiohead—and always enjoy hearing other artists’ cover versions … |
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