Tag Archives: conviction

“What do you do when your friends are rapists?”

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“What do you do when your friends are rapists?”  Is a question I ran across in a blog post written by Shane O’Leary on Theology Corner.  I have to admit to being both intrigued and horrified by what I read.

Shane does an excellent job of describing the inner-turmoil that everyone goes through when they’ve learned that someone they’ve known and trusted is accused of (or confesses to) something as heinous as rape.  The swirling fog of dissonance is real and it’s difficult to shake off and gain clarity.

I commend him for putting it out there, really – it’s an honest and accurate depiction of the wrestling match that goes on inside a person’s head.  “What should I do???”  But I was deeply saddened that he never answered his own question.

Shane offers three scenarios (I don’t know if they’re real recollections of actual events or if he made them up for the sake of the piece). Regardless of whether or not these particular stories are real, they are indicative of the kinds of real life scenarios that ordinary people might run into in the course of their own friendships.  Three women in three different settings are devastated by what “good guys” have done to them.  Three women’s lives are forever changed by the actions of “friends.”  Three moral dilemmas that Shane – and maybe you – faced where doing the “right” thing is eclipsed by doing the expedient thing, doing the loyal thing, or in fact, doing nothing at all.  In each of the three cases, Shane knows the rapist as a friend – not as a rapist.  The grappling with the truth of that horrible reality while at the same time trying to figure out what he should do in the face of it all (if, in fact, he should do anything at all) is the whole of the post.  I recommend reading the post yourself.  If nothing else, I hope it makes you think deeply about the times you’ve been faced with (or will be faced with) doing the right thing when it might cost you dearly.

I don’t know this author.  I’d like to think that his choice of leaving the questions unanswered was a stylistic decision purposefully used – to make his readers think, perhaps, or make them uncomfortable enough to ask the questions in their own circles of friendships or colleagues to try to find answers.  But it has become painfully clear that in the face of crisis, most of us don’t know what to do.  We might wrestle with the questions, but often we wrestle long enough that the opportunity to do anything at all passes and our de facto decision to do nothing has been made for us.  These are matters too serious to leave hanging in the thin wisps of theory – we need to start actually offering some concrete solutions to one another.  We need to be prepared for the day when we’re faced with this heavy responsibilities.  We need to know what we will do.

In response to Shane’s repeated question, “what do you do when your friends are rapists?”  I’m posting my response.  Hopefully this at least gets the conversation started:

Dear Shane:

I deeply appreciate the honesty that you share here – the wrestling and the fog are real and you describe them well. I hope these things represent the real inner-turmoil you have had if these are true stories. They are for me.

As a victim I will offer my suggestions – I’m not a therapist, I’m no expert, I have no formal training to say this is what one “ought” to do. But since you ask the open-ended question with such eloquence, and seem to be genuinely asking, I will offer a possible answer.

You do the right thing.

You put yourself in the shoes of the victim and do the right thing. The protective thing. The honorable thing. The God-glorifying thing. You imagine that these girls are your sister, your mother, your close friend if you have to, but you do what Jesus did – bend low, serve the needy, the vulnerable, the oppressed, the wounded. You lift up, you rescue, you resuscitate.

You go back and admit where you’ve failed – where you’ve retreated from standing firmly against sin and shrunk back as a coward hiding behind ignorance. If you’re not guilty of these crimes yourself (and everything you’ve described is a crime) you ask the victims if they want help in reporting the crimes. You ask them if they need help in finding help. You tell them you believe them. You tell them that what happened to them was not their fault. You offer to walk with them through the ugliness of the pain and the torturous path of healing and you keep that promise no matter what.

You do what the Good Samaritan did and set your life aside for a time to help the battered and bloodied victim of criminal activity survive and heal. Oh God! What will it take to wake us up? You do the right thing, Shane. You do the right thing.

Regarding your friends who are rapists? You let the consequences of their criminal activities have their full (hopefully redemptive) effect. You report them. You call them out. You risk the relationship for the sake of righteousness if that’s what it costs, but you do the right thing here, too. And then you walk with your friends, if they’ll let you, through the pain and the ugliness of harsh discipline by a loving Father who loves them too much to let them continue in the paths of wickedness without calling loudly, “Come home! Come home!” If they are really your friends, you will love them too much to let them continue down those roads, too.

It’s not that knowing what the right thing to do is that hard. It’s doing it.

Do the right thing, Shane. Please, do the right thing.

Humbly,
Laurie

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When Loving Seems Risky…

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image-of-broken-heart-e1438801033741“Risk is right,” or so says John Piper.  And David Platt.  And my pastor, and a bunch of other people I respect and admire.  I’ve heard risk loosely defined as, “an action that exposes you to the possibility of loss or injury.”

 

Well, sometimes that word “possibility” is a little misleading…

 

We take risks all the time (unless we live in a hole somewhere).  We consider the “pros” and “cons” of a situation – and what that often really means is:  If I do this what could I gain compared to what it will cost me?  We are willing to take risks because there is a chance – often a good chance – that it will pay off and bring us great rewards.  We take a new job, we move to a different house, we go to grad school, we get married, we start businesses all because the possibility of reward is worth any loss that we might have to face.  We risk, because we’ve measured and concluded that there is a reward to be had – here, now.  A tangible, definable, measurable reward.

 

But there is one area of our lives that doesn’t – or really shouldn’t – work that way.

 

Love.

 

Let me try to explain first by way of example.

 

When you have a child, an odd (but wonderful) thing happens – to many of us for the first time.  We love another being more than we could have ever imagined being capable of loving without that creature being able to return that love – or anything – at all.

 

Mothers and fathers the world over know this from their experience.  If you’re not a parent you will just have to imagine, and trust that what I’m telling you is the truth.

 

That tiny lump of flesh and bones is precious in your sight despite the blood, the mess, the strange color, and the frantic, self-absorbed screaming coming out of it.  You don’t care about any of that.  You love that little baby with more than all your heart – your capacity to love swells immeasurably and no matter what, you find yourself full to the brim and overflowing with love for that wee creature.

 

They make you crazy.  They suck your energy dry.  They bleed your bank account faster than leeches draw blood.  They are relentlessly demanding, and selfish, and hungry, and needy…

 

Yet, you love them – simply because they are ours.

 

Now we may derive some joy out of caring for them, and we may build relationships that teach them to love us, too – but that is not why we love them.

 

And we know that if something were to happen to them – or if something already has – that would forever prevent them from being able to love us in return, we would still love them with all of our hearts – because our love for them was never based on what they could or couldn’t do for us.  It’s a one-way street from beginning to end, whether or not they ever love us in return.

 

Trust me, I’m thrilled beyond measure that every single one of my kids loves me.  My heart would be broken and full of a terrible sorrow if they didn’t…

 

But I would still love my children if they didn’t love me – and so would you.

 

We feel as if there isn’t a great risk in this kind of one-way love.  Pretty much everyone (unless there are unnatural problems involved) loves their kids.  We know that the normal course of events is that when we love someone, they love us back.  

 

But what do you do when it isn’t that way?  We’re not called to only love our children, are we?  What do you do when the risk of loving is terribly high because you know it will be painful and sorrowful and hard no matter what you do when you try to love a neighbor, relative – or even a spouse who doesn’t love you?  We want a good return on this love-investment.  We want riches and plenty – compound interest on our principle deposits of care and concern.  We’ll settle for equal contributions to these transactions but we’re all hoping for dividends instead.  Who keeps investing in something that never gives any kind of increase or accumulation in return?  It’s just foolish to keep throwing good love, after bad, isn’t it?

 

Actually…. No.  It isn’t.

 

Loving the unlovely – the selfish, the stubborn, the mean, the angry….  This is exactly what we are called to do.   It is exactly what Jesus did.  Loving those who insulted, ridiculed, slandered, maligned, persecuted, and even abused him  – this is what he did.  With compassion he looked at the ones who were crucifying Him and said, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing”! 

 

I know, I know – there are caveats and disclaimers that always need to go in right about here. I don’t have time to go into the differences between lovingly standing against sin and sinfully letting it go (that’s another post someday).  But let’s not use the exceptions – the extreme cases of horrifying evil and abusive sin – as excuses to keep the rest of us from doing the hard work of loving the unlovely.

 

We all have people in our lives who are truly difficult to love – I do, too.  We have neighbors, relatives, and family members who are so caught up in their own lives that they seem incapable of empathy, much less selfless love.  All hopes of mutually loving relationships have probably vanished long, long ago.  But here’s the thing:  We have to learn to choose to love them anyway.  We have to learn to choose to love them even though there will be little – if anything – given in return.  We have to learn to be willing to risk being hurt – again – by them, because we love them because of who Jesus is and what He has done – not them.

 

“Why?” you ask?….  For the sake of the Gospel.  Romans 5:8 and 1 John 4:10 both tell us the same thing… God demonstrated and proved His love for us in that while we were still sinners – selfish, mean, hard-hearted beasts – Christ died for us.  Did you catch that?  He laid down his life for us – you and me – when we were still nasty, biting, ill-tempered sinners.  He didn’t love us because we loved him back.  He loved us in spite of the fact that we didn’t.  As every good father does, he loves us simply because we are His.

 

What a beautiful portrayal of Christ-like love our journeys can be when others can marvel at the love we give when it looks like this, and know that it comes from a supernatural Source!

 What a loud, unmistakable testimony our lives become when we say from our hearts, “Lord – I can’t do this without you!  I cannot love this person – I don’t even want to – but I love YOU and I know that is what you want me to do.  Help me to be willing to risk the hurt, the pain – all the messiness of this risky, one-way love.   Help me, please to love the way that you have loved me,” and he does all that you ask.

The world notices, and when they do we can point them to Jesus when they ask – “HOW do you do it??” 

But even if they never do – even if they never notice or ask or admire or appreciate this risky, selfless, one-way love you give, God does.  And that is worth far more than we will ever lose in these costly love transactions.  Our returns will be a hundred-fold – and that is a promise from God Himself.  So you see, this kind of “risky” love isn’t really risky after all.  It’s a sure-fire investment given by the One who manages the Books.

What do you want?

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I asked my two-week old baby that question once.  I know – it’s a dumb question to ask of a two-week old.  But even as I knew the absurdity of asking her, I also knew I had run out of ideas.  I was desperate.  I was exhausted.  I was grasping at straws.  I held all 9 pounds of her up and looked at her eye-to-eye,  and with all the restraint I could muster pleaded, “what do you WANT?!?!”

She kept crying.

I’m not really sure how, but we got through it.  She’s 30 now – and no worse for the question.  At least she doesn’t remember it.

It’s not an entirely bad question, though – really.   (OK, I don’t recommend asking someone who’s only means of communication is crying…)

But we ask it all the time.  What do you want for dinner?  What do you want to do?  What do you want to be?  What do you want to accomplish?  and on it goes…

“What do you want?” can elicit a myriad of responses.  Deep things.  Shallow things.  Immediate things.  Long-range things.  Proper things…

We think about what we want all the time.  From the moment our consciousness transitions from being asleep to being awake what we want drives us.  I want to sleep more so I hit snooze.  I want to get out of the door on time so I get up.  I want to eat something because I’m hungry – or don’t want to be at an inconvenient time.  I want to not eat because it’s “nasty” first thing in the morning (at least that’s what my teens say).  I want to wear this.  I want to go here.  I want to remember that.  I want to finish what’s on my list.  (I want to start what’s on my list!)

All of these wants can race through our minds before our eyelids open, but it continues all through each of our days.

“I want” is almost as much a part of being human as “I think.”  We neither consider nor act without some ‘want’ prompting us.

And yet, when we seriously ask each other the question, “What do you want?” we are often met with the same crazed look my two-week old infant gave me so many years ago.

Aside from wants of the immediacy of the next 10 minutes – or day – what do you really want?  Inherent in the question is, “what is it that you want in your life more than anything?”

What are your goals?  What are your longings?  What are you passionate enough to base your decisions on?  What is so important to you that you would sacrifice other good things for?

What do you really want???

This is a question I’ve been pondering recently as a result of our women’s Bible study.  When I’m thinking through the wants that motivate me, the range of answers is vast:

I want my house clean – and I’d really like it to stay that way for a stretch of time.

I want someone else to make dinner.

I want time to read all the books on my list.

I want to learn French fluently.

I want to lose weight and be in better shape.

I want to have deep friendships.

I want to be appreciated.

I want to love well – and I want to know that I am well-loved.

I want to love God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength – and I want to know what that really looks like.

I want my kids to love God the same way.

I want to hear, “Well done my good and faithful servant… enter into the joy of your Master.”

What ends up bubbling up to the top of our lists reveals where our hearts are.   The beautiful thing is that God knows we are frail and made of dust – as he was with Abraham, he is patient as we learn to want for our own lives what God wants for them.

I’ve already made some decisions based on the priorities of these things in my life.  I wouldn’t die on the hill of desire to keep my house clean (which, I suppose is why it’s still on the list…), but I would on the one that demands an answer for how to learn how to love God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength.   I’m pretty hopeful about learning French better – but I’m dogged about teaching my children to love God.  These things motivate me to be sure.

But when I’m really honest about my wants during the course of an ordinary day, lesser wants tend to have a bigger voice amidst all those wants clamoring for first priority.  I want to be lazy sometimes more than I want to be industrious.  I want to be crabby sometimes more than I want to have a joyful heart.  I want to criticize sometimes more than I want to encourage.  I fall short… a lot… of what I really want.

Thankfully, we serve a Great High Priest who intercedes to God the Father on our behalf – who can change our prayers of “I want what I want” into “teach me to want what You have planned for me” by changing our hearts.

Lord, teach me to want what you want.  Teach me to want You.

Going to hell is worse than going to jail…

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That probably seems obvious to most of the people reading this blog.  Most of my friends would readily agree to this being truth.

But do we believe it?

Do we live in a way that we make decisions based on that being true?

Sometimes I’m guilty of saying I believe something to be true, but not living and making decisions like I believe it to be true.

I’ll give you an example.

Years ago, when I was expecting baby #2, we had moved away from “home” to a place where I knew exactly two people – my husband and baby #1.

I was young and embarassingly immature.  I was exceedingly lonely.  And I was sick as a dog with said baby.  I don’t mean a little queasy in the mornings, but couldn’t eat or drink anything, losing weight, needing to be in the hospital multiple times sick as a dog.  It was a dark time for me.

Why did God take me away from all the people who loved me and would have helped me?  Why did we have to move to such a gloomy place (Cleveland, OH – no lie – check out their yearly cloud cover!)?  Why did I have to be so stinking sick when other people “glowed” with pregnancy?  In short, I was whining a lot and demanding of God, “Why do I have to suffer???”

Previous to this I know I would have given complete and confident verbal assent to the truth that all Christians will have to suffer at some time or another.  I know this because I had already done it.

I knew 1 Peter 2 – where Peter tells us, “For to this (suffering well) you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example so that you might follow in his steps.”

Intellectually I knew the implications of Matthew 16:24 where Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”

And I could have quoted John 15:20 where Jesus said, “Remember what I told you, ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’  If they have persecuted me they will persecute you also…”  and John 16:33 where Jesus said, “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble…”

But in both cases I would have focused on the ends of those verses – “If they have persecuted me they will persecute you also.  If they have obeyed my teaching they will obey yours also.”  And, “In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, for I have overcome the world.”

Glossing over the hard parts doesn’t make the hard parts, well, not hard.

As I lay in my bed, wasting away under the call to bring a new life into the world I did not celebrate this high calling – I railed against it.  I raised my ridiculously small fist at the Almighty God of the Universe and demanded to know, “WHY!?!”

That’s just one example of how I didn’t want to suffer any real pain or inconvenience – unfortunately, there have been many.

In all those times what I really needed was to understand the truths that these passages and others like them are really saying.

Here’s what I’ve learned that Jesus is really saying to me… and to all those he is calling to follow Him:

“Laurie – life is going to be hard if you are going to be my disciple.  You are going to experience all kinds of hardships simply because you belong to me.  They may be a little hard, or they may be exceedingly hard – to the point of pain or torture or death.  But don’t be afraid.  In fact, be bold!  For nothing will happen to you that isn’t from my hand and no one can take you from me or my care – I have overcome everything that stands between you and me.  Trust me in all things.  Following me will be worth infinitely more than you can imagine.”

I’ve continued to need to learn, in fuller and fuller measure, what this really means in the daily things of life.

Will I step in to difficult situations knowing full well that they will be painful, because God is calling me to them?  Will I stop and help that person?  Will I go into that neighborhood?  Will I go into that country?  Will I go back, again, to engage that difficult person?  Will I risk comfort and safety and reputation to tell others what Jesus wants them to know?

And perhaps harder still, will I take my children into those situations because they need to learn how to do those same things?  Will I support my children going into “dangerous” situations without me because they believe God is calling them there?

This is where the rubber meets the road.  These are the daily, ordinary kinds of things we all face but want to run away from.  This is where our decisions reflect what we really believe.

If I really believe what Jesus says is true, then my answers to those questions will need to based on that truth.

If I really believe what Jesus says is true, I will value his direction for my life more than I will value my personal space, or comforts, or safety, or reputation.

If I really believe what Jesus says is true, then like the believers in North Africa, or China, or the MIddle East, I would be willing to go to jail or be beaten or even put to death in order to tell my friends and neighbors about Jesus… because them going to hell is worse than me going to jail.

Guest post from 14 year old Susannah

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We’re sitting here at Charles deGaulle airport waiting for our flight to England and then home. As I think about our time in France one of the things that stands out for me is a man we met named Joshua. Joshua is a refugee from Nigeria. On may 7th, he said goodbye to his family as he and his dad prepared to preach at separate towns in the north, during this, they were attacked. Joshua has no idea how he made it out alive, but by God’s grace, he did. He fled to France, because a Christian man saw him reading his bible and offered to buy him a plane ticket to Paris. Once there, he had no where to go, and lived on the streets for three weeks, then another man saw him and told him to go to Chalons, to the red cross. Through this, he got connected to the Marshall’s and started attending their church. Joshua still has no idea if his family is alive or not, he suspects that they are dead, but when Mr. Marshall called to ask him if he would help at the baseball camp. He answered the phone with “I can’t talk, I’m with Jesus.” to see someone who has suffered so much, and still has faith like a rock, was amazing.

Radically different perspectives…

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A guest post from my 21 year old son, Isaac…

 

Don, the guy we’re helping run a baseball camp here with, gave us about a five hour tour of this part of France, covering mostly the Revolution, and WWI. He does this tour to help people understand the French better. One of our conversations that we had during the tour was about his experience going back to the states to recruit from seminaries and Bible colleges. He told the story of being at a seminary recruiting one year during a conference, he had his little table set up and students would file past, looking for souvenirs and treats from France. One student made his way to his table and after looking about for a few seconds said “So, what does your organization have to offer me?”

Meanwhile, here we are at one of the larger US military cemeteries from WWI, looking at thousands and thousands of graves of young American boys and men, that died protecting France. They died for 21 years of peace. Most of them volunteered. They volunteered to die for a fight they had little stake in.

It’s striking that so many will voluntarily go die for a war that isn’t theirs, or for honor that would last a short time, but that when people try and recruit missionaries to simply go live somewhere else and be intentional about their faith, it’s nearly impossible to get anyone to commit long term.

Cemetaries in a war-weary land…

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The American Cemetary of soldiers killed in the single-deadliest battle in US history (including the Battle at Gettysburg) where 10’s of thousands of soldiers died on the fields of Argonne, France. We saw similar cemetaries for French and German Soldiers in the same region…