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If you happen to be in the Los Angeles area on October 2, join us in Costa Mesa! 

Of all the sights that I observed in Italy during my recent visit, this one from the central dome of the Cathedral in Florence was the most breathtaking. Let me explain why.

You’ll notice the words displayed by the angel at the very top above Jesus’ head. It says in Latin “Ecce Homo,” which is translated in English “Behold the Man.”

“So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, "Behold the man!" (John 19:5).

Notice what Giorgio Vasari and Federico Zuccari, creators of this fresco, have done. They took the words of Pilate used of the Suffering Servant and applied them to the risen and glorified Jesus, of the One who now lives and reigns, the One before whom all of humanity will bend the knee and confess that he is Lord. WOW!!

Think about that for a moment. Ecce Homo

The author Anne Rice, best known for her vampire novels before she returned to the Catholic Church twelve years ago, recently made waves when she posted the following announcement on her Facebook page:

“Today I quit being a Christian. I’m out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being “Christian” or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to “belong” to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten . . . years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.”

To which she later added:

“As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of . . . Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.”

Quite a lot of ink has spilled (much of it virtual) since Rice’s statement went public. One can now view CNN video interviews in which Rice explains her position (one and two), read articles from noted media outlets such as the LA Times, Salon.com, First Things, Huntington Post, and, of course, peruse any of the gazillion comments on the blogosphere.

Having  personally corresponded with Rice over the last year, I have followed her story with interest. In what follows I would like to offer four lessons that have occurred to me, lessons that apply to everyone, but especially to evangelicals.

1.) We Speak as Christians.  Frankly, I have been a bit embarrassed by the amount of uncharitable vitriol expressed by some of us in the “Christian” community. For instance, one blogger writes:

“I’m tired of Anne Rice.  I’m not impressed with her as a writer, and I find her efforts to publicize her religious mutations a sign of gross conceit.  The attention others have given her “de-conversion” exaggerates her importance as a public figure and creates the impression that her reasons for leaving the church are profound.  Really, folks.  Do you care that much about this woman?”

There are certainly occasions to be direct. I’m a born and bred New Yorker; I love when people shoot straight. But the above quote is surely not an appropriate way to communicate, especially before the world on behalf of Christ. Paul’s words to the Corinthians are worth remembering at this point:

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. … it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends (1 Cor 13:4-8).”

We must never forget that when we speak truth, according to the Apostle Paul, we necessarily do it in love (Eph 4:15).

2.)  Fidelity to One’s Conscience. Maybe it’s just because I’m a Protestant that when I read Anne’s words, “My conscience will allow nothing else” used in reference to moving out from under religious authority, I think of Luther’s defense at the Diet of Worms. You’ll remember Luther’s statement before Emperor Charles V.

“Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scripture or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the word of God. I cannot and I will not retract anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. [He then added in German] Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me! Amen.”

The crucial difference between Anne and brother Martin is the authority to which their respective consciences clung. Imperfect as he was, Luther, nevertheless, sought to base his life and teaching upon Scripture. Therefore, leaving Christianity was not an option. Likewise, we must keep our consciences tethered to biblical truth. 

3.) What is Our Ecclesiology? How do we evangelicals give an answer for the ecclesial hope within us, or, stated more simply, what role does the church play in our life of faith?

It’s interesting how Anne’s departure from the Catholic Church is ipso facto a departure from Christianity. This is entirely common, by the way, among many of us who have been raised in the Catholic Church. As I told the Protestant friend who first invited me to her church, “Why would I switch golf clubs to imitation knockoffs when I own Big Berthas?”

What I want to call attention to, however, is the opportunity that we have to think carefully about our corporate identity. We may not express our view of the church in the same terms as Anne Rice, but if you look at our involvement in our congregations or look at our prayer life, we find that the degree of individualism is really not quite different.

4.) Log Removal. I wonder, have we Christians paused for a single moment to consider why Anne Rice is so exercised? With reference to her protest about the church being anti-feminist, anti-Democrat, anti-science, and anti-gay, for instance, do we have any measure of culpability?

I’m  not for a moment suggesting that we dial down our commitment to biblical teaching; but I wonder if at times there is maybe a margin for improvement in the way that we communicate such ideas. Are we, for instance, consistently speaking the truth in genuine Christian love?

Whatever the answer might be in the final analysis, the humility of Christ would have us first pause and consider the log in our own eye before we seek to deal with the speck in someone else’s.

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If you would like, you can hear me discuss this topic tomorrow at 3:30pm CT on Moody Radio’s Chris Fabry Live.

In all of creation, there is no greater symbol than the cross of Christ, for on it the Savior bleed and died. A post with a crossbeam. Simple. Maybe even crude. But the cross is the most profound and beautiful sight in the world to those who understand its meaning.

In all of English literature there is perhaps no greater expression of the cross’s meaning than in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress chapter four:

“Christian ran this way until he came to a place on somewhat higher ground where there stood a Cross. A little way down from there was an open Grave. And I saw in my dream that just as Christian approached the Cross, his Burden came loose from his shoulders, fell from his back, and began to roll downward until it tumbled into the open Grave to be seen no more.

After this, Christian was glad and light. He exclaimed with a joyful heart, “Through His sorrows He has given me rest, and through His death He has given me Life.” Then he stood still for awhile to examine and ponder the Cross; for it was very surprising to him that the sight of the Cross alone had brought him complete deliverance from his Burden. So he continued to look and watch until springs of tears welled up in his eyes and came pouring down his cheeks.”

This morning I had the pleasure of preaching at New Covenant Bible Church in St. Charles, IL. The sermon explored Paul’s admonition to the church to walk through darkness as children of light. If you like, you may access a recording of the message by clicking here.

During my six month sabbatical from College Church (May – Nov) I have two primary writing projects: Journeys of Faith (Zondervan), a book on conversions written by a Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, and Evangelical. The other is a book on the lessons that we learn from death (it’s not as morbid as it sounds, trust me). The following quote presents a worthwhile insight relating to the second of these projects.

Less well-known as a Benedictine monk than as the father of English history, Bede (c. 673 – 735) was a prolific Bible scholar, scientist, author, and the only English doctor of the Roman Catholic Church. In his best-known work, Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum (Ecclesiastical History of the English People), Bede recounts the conversion of Northumbria to Christianity in 627 A.D. In this excerpt, an advisor to King Edwin describes something important about Christian revelation, teaching us a lesson about the compelling nature of transcendent truth:

“Your Majesty, when we compare the present life of man with that time of which we have no knowledge, it seems to me like the swift flight of a lone sparrow through the banqueting-hall where you sit in the winter months to dine with your thanes and counsellors. Inside there is a comforting fire to warm the room; outside, the wintry storms of snow and rain are raging. This sparrow flies swiftly in through one door of the hall, and out through another. While he is inside, he is safe from the winter storms; but after a few moments of comfort, he vanishes from sight into the darkness whence he came. Similarly, man appears on earth for a little while, but we know nothing of what went before this life, and what follows. Therefore if this new teaching [Christianity] can reveal any more certain knowledge, it seems only right that we should follow it.”¹

Footnotes:

¹ St. Bede, A History of the English Church and People, trans. Leo Sherley-Price (Baltimore, MD: Penguin Books, 1955), 124-125.

Christopher A. Hall. Worshiping with the Church Fathers. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2009. 280 pages.

“Jerome, Augustine, Basil, Gregory of Nazianzus, John Chrysostom, Athanasius, Origen, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Ambrose—names that we have probably heard, but maybe are not entirely clear on who they were and why they are relevant. Such is the concern that rings through Christopher Hall’s three volume series on the Church Fathers: 1.) Reading Scripture with the Church Fathers, 2.) Learning Theology with the Church Fathers, 3.) Worshiping with the Church Fathers (here reviewed). The fourth and final volume titled Living Ethically with the Church Fathers is yet to come.

Hall’s objective is simple, he invites readers “into an active, lively engagement with the church fathers and in this particular volume, with their understanding of worship” (13). In this regard, he focuses on three areas of patristic thought: the Sacraments, Prayer, and Discipline.”

You may read my entire review here.

I’m reading a good book today given to me by my friend Rick Thompson over coffee this morning. It’s titled The Wild Goose Chase: Reclaim the Adventure of Pursuing God by Mark Batterson. Here is a stellar quote by Jerry Bridges on page 93.

“Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of His grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need for God’s grace. Every day should be a day of relating to God on the basis of His Grace.”

Rob Moll. The Art of Dying: Living Fully into the Life to Come. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2009. 192 pages.

“For Christians in most times and places, death has been a routine part of life. But during the last century, Americans have embraced an unprecedented denial of death, and unprecedented evasion of death. In general, we have removed death from our homes. People no longer die there; corpses no longer repose there before burial. We no longer allow people to say that they are dying—rather, they are “battling” an illness. Far from encouraging the perilously ill to recognize the imminence of their death, we encourage the sick (and their doctors) to fight death—but not to prepare for it” (10). These words, from Lauren Winner’s foreword, lay the groundwork for this very important book, a book for which many of us in pastoral ministry have been eagerly waiting.

Read my entire review here.