“I would rather experience repentance in my soul than know how to define it.” -Thomas a’ Kempis
The most beloved book by Christians, other than the Bible, is a short devotional work by a 15th century monk named Thomas a’ Kempis called Imitation of Christ. a’ Kempis is no saint or Doctor of the Church; as best as we can tell, he was a humble monk from a now-defunct order who just happened to leave us some of the most profound and stirring insights into the spiritual life every put on paper. He was a favorite of Therese of Lisieux, Thomas More, Ignatius of Loyola, John Wesley, and Thomas Merton, just to name a few. And during this season of Lent, who better to guide us on the practice of repentance? Let us give the wise monk a hearing once more:
“The only true liberty or honest joy is in fearing God with a good conscience. Blessed is the man who can set aside all the sources of distraction and perfectly recollect himself in holy repentance. Blessed is he who shuns all that soils and weighs down his conscience…Always keep an eye on yourself and be more willing to correct yourself than your dearest friends.” (Ch. 21, “Repentance of the Heart”)
A few thoughts:
How radically pre-modern it is to claim that liberty resides in fearing God! Modern libertarians would shun such a notion of freedom.
Repentance is a “recollection” of the self. Like the Prodigal Son, the repentant sinner is one who returns to their true home to be restored in the arms of the loving Father.
Repentance requires setting aside distraction? Dear God, my iPhone and my iPad have both been flashing alerts at me in the 10 minutes I’ve been writing. Few acts of renunciation are more difficult in 2015 than living lives which are not constantly drowning in distraction.
More willing to correct myself than others?? But it’s so easy to despise my neighbors’ speck or splinter, and to ignore the log in my own eye!
Repentance is, of course, a daily need and not merely a seasonal occurrence. For half a millennium, there have been few better guides than Thomas a’ Kempis. He would be the first to say this obvious conclusion: the point is not to know how to define repentance, not to read great works about repentance, but to do it.
What if stress is less about working too much or too hard, and more about how we function in relationships? If you are a leader (check and see if anyone is following you if unsure), Ed Friedman’s A Failure of Nerve is a must-read. Subtitled “Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix,” Friedman’s final work (completed by family and colleagues posthumously) applies his theory of family systems to leadership. The Psychiatrist-Rabbi offers this provocative claim near the end of the book:
“A leader’s stress and his or her effectiveness are opposite sides of the same coin…not because failure to be effective creates stress, but because the type of leadership which creates the least stress also happens to be the type of leadership that is most effective.”
Of course, it is possible to be stressed from overwork; it’s not as if there no limits a leader’s stamina, regardless of how wise her or his functioning might be. “There are limits to everyone’s strength,” says Friedman, “but it takes less weight to strain your body if you attempt to lift the object from certain positions.” So it is with our position in relational systems.
For Friedman, the primary relational unit of concern is the triangle: a triangle is a relationship between any three persons, organizations, or entities. Two parents and a child, or a husband, wife, and mother-in law, or you, your supervisor, and the company – all of these are examples of triangles. As you may guess, they are all around us. Friedman insists that it is how we function in these relational triangles that determines our effectiveness as leaders (which, as we’ve established, is at the opposite end of the spectrum from stress). Here’s where leadership, stress, and triangles come together:
“The stress on leaders (parents, healers, mentors, managers) primarily has to do with the extent to which the leader has been caught in responsible position for the relationship of two others. They could be two persons (members of the family, and two sides to an argument) or any person or system plus a problem or a goal. The way out is to make the two persons responsible for their own relationship, or the other person responsible for his or her problem, while all still remain connected. It is that last phrase which differentiates detriangling from simply quitting, resigning, or abdicating. Staying in a triangle without getting triangled oneself gives one far more power than never entering the triangle in the first place.”
In other words, there is a “sweet spot” for leaders, somewhere between being aloof and unconnected and being over-identified and in the muck. Friedman describes this this carefully negotiated relational position as “differentiation,” in which one is connected to two others in conflict while maintaining a healthy sense of self with the boundaries which that entails.
Friedman’s language is somewhat arcane, and you would need to read this and/or Generation to Generation to grasp the full lexicon. Hopefully this sample is helpful, and encourages you to go out and read more for yourself. A Failure of Nerve tops my list when other pastors and leaders ask me for book recommendations.
For now, think of it this way: how much of your work or family stress is related to undo ownership for the relationships of others? When I think about my early ministry, that question is downright scary. But I’ve found Friedman’s concept of differentiation to be immensely helpful to me as a leader, as I negotiate a variety of triangles and seek maximum effectiveness. We’ll give Rabbi Friedman the last word:
“Leaders who are most likely to function poorly…are those who have failed to maintain a well-differentiated position. Either they have accepted the blame owing to the irresponsibility and constant criticism of others, or they have gotten themselves into an overfunctioning position (that is, they tried too hard) and rushed in where angels and fools both fear to tread.”
P.S. For further clarification on Friedman’s theory of leadership, check out this very helpful (and brief) video:
Source: Edwin Friedman, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix (New York: Seabury 2007), 219-221.
Most people, and many Christians especially, think they dislike ritual. In reality, we are doing ritual all the time. Whether we go to the mall, brush our teeth, or go to church, there are almost always elements of ritual, whether recognized or not. The liturgical and ecumenical theologian Geoffrey Wainwright describes ritual like so:
“It must be made clear form the start that I am not using ‘ritual’ in the pejorative sense of ‘mere ritual’ which it sometimes bears among Protestants. I mean ritual in the descriptive sense of regular patterns of behaviour invested with symbolic significance and efficacy. On my sense of the word, even those communities which pride themselves on their freedom from ‘ritual’ will generally be found to use ritual; only they will not be aware of it, and so will be unable either to enjoy its pleasures to the full or to be properly vigilant about its dangers. Similarly it may be important to state that liturgy (and, much less often, cult) is here used of the public worship of the Church, with liturgical (and cultic) as convenient adjectives. Liturgy leaves room within itself for those spontaneous or extemporaneous forms of worship which some Protestants favour as an alternative to what they class as ‘liturgical.’ If the word liturgy is allowed to retain from its etymology the sense of ‘the work of the people’, it hints at the focal place and function which I ascribe to worship in the Christian life as a whole. Into the liturgy the people bring their entire existence so that it may be gathered up in praise. From the liturgy the people depart with a renewed vision of the value-patterns of God’s kingdom, by the more effective practice of which they intend to glorify God in their whole life.”
Another of my intellectual heroes, James K.A. Smith, has given new force to recognizing the power of ritual not just in religious life but in culture as a whole. In addition to his many books on the subject, his lecture “Redeeming Ritual” is worth your time.
So the question is not a simple, “ritual: yes or no?” but whether or not we are conscious of the rituals that make up our lives, the liturgies which form us each day. Charles Duhigg has written of The Power of Habit, which describes how rituals, when made intentional, can create new, healthy patterns of life and behavior.
And that’s what it comes down to with the church. Are our rituals effectively making us saints, or reinforcing the individualistic, shallow, consumer liturgies to which we are constantly exposed? Ritual is our friend, because there is no escaping its shaping influence in our lives. But the constant question to ask is: to what end is this liturgy forming us? Because remember, even this is a liturgy:
Source: Wainwright, Doxology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 8.
In 1966, Time magazine famously asked, “Is God Dead?” For almost 50 years, the geopolitics of the world has indicated a strong and loud “no” to this question. So argue the editors of a great volume, intended for journalists but a worthwhile read for anyone interested in faith or politics, entitled Blind Spot: When Journalists Don’t Get Religion. At the conclusion of their background article, “God is Winning,” Timothy Samuel Shah and Monica Duffy Toft argue,
“Contrary to the influential scholarly theories of the 1950s and 1960s, religion is not dying with modernization. Contrary to conventional wisdom, religion plays an independent and powerful role in how people view themselves and how states conduct their affairs. And, contrary to the assumptions of recent U.S. foreign policy, democracy promotion may only increase the political role of religion – including radical religion – throughout the world, most immediately in Iraq and other parts of the Middle East. God is winning in global politics. And modernization, democratization, and globalization have only made him stronger.”
The chorus of New Atheists (Dawkins, Hitchens [RIP], Harris, Dennett, etc.) continues to argue that religion either will or should go away with advances in modernity and science. And yet, the exact opposite is happening. There is a message here for all of us, religious and nonreligious: to understand the world around us, we had best understand our religious neighbors on their own terms, lest we are fated to be ignorant of our world and one of its indefatigable factors. This has been true since Time‘s infamous cover, and will, in all probability, remain true in this new year – despite what the cultured despisers happen to feel about it.
Source: “God is Winning,” in Blind Spot: When Journalists Don’t Get Religion (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 28.
The conversation around Rob Bell’s recent career move has been interesting. Many are fascinated at what the Oprah Machine will turn out. Some are skeptical, and others are quick to defend. It seems that Bell has now been “claimed” by the progressive camp, and anyone who questions his sanctity must be rooted out and destroyed, much like the Inquisition that the progressives (claim to) abhor. Enter an article published by Relevant under the hysterical title, “What the Continued Crucifying of Rob Bell Says About Modern Christianity,” which defends the founder of Mars Hill thus:
“Bell is no fast food, arm-chair theologian, remember.
He’s a Bible geek whose experience with and understanding of the ancient Scriptures was one of the main reasons for his rise in the first place. This wasn’t a guy who skimmed the easy passages. This wasn’t someone who preached from the cozy confines of the Creation story, or the Psalms, or the Sermon on the Mount.”
He also charges that Bell’s critics now are the same as those before: those vile heresy-hunters are now coming out of the woodwork to crucify (side note: I despise these histrionics) Bell all over again. But not so fast.
I’m a fan of Bell’s, as I established in my previous post. I never called him a heretic. I still don’t think he is one. But I seriously question his association with Oprah. Why? Because she destroys those she touches. Like Midas, the mythological king who turned what he touched to gold, Oprah turns those she touches to shit.
Consider Dr. Mehmet Oz. A legitimate surgeon before Oprah put her stamp on him, Dr. Oz has faced growing criticism for his seemingly un-scientific, medically-questionable claims. He’s even had to go before Congress to defend himself. A new study has found that more than half of his claims have no basis in medical science. More than half! Just made up.
So it’s not that Bell is some heretic who should be thrown into the outer darkness. It’s that he’s associating with someone who corrupts, someone who brings commercial success at the price of dignity, integrity, and ultimately the truth.
And I, for one, appreciate Bell’s gifts too damn much to be okay with that.
I hope it doesn’t happen. I hope that Rob is able to resist lure of the limelight, the temptation to so popularize one’s message that all credibility is sacrificed. As a New York doctor said (quoted in the Post article above),
“Mehmet is now an entertainer…And he’s great at it … [But] sometimes Mehmet will entertain wacky ideas — particularly if they are wacky and have entertainment value.”
Will Bell make the most of this opportunity, and use his platform to represent Christian wisdom and charity well, or will he sell out a-la Doctor Oz, dispensing theological prescriptions as corrupt and false as they are easily digestible?
Only time will tell.
Update: A friend passed on this clip from the Rob Bell Show, featured on the OWN website, which seems to indicate that, at least to a degree, Rob is not going to shy away completely from robust Christian themes.
Relevance destroys. You can sell a lot of burgers, but that makes you McDonalds. Your album went triple platinum? The Spice Girls have you beat. I fear that the once-respected evangelical pastor Rob Bell is becoming a spiritual McDonalds, a pop shadow of his former self. Will he serve billions and billions more? Likely. But a burger made for the masses is neither tasty nor nutritious (nor a burger).
First things first. I genuinely have affection for Bell. I showed Nooma videos to my young adults. I defended him when those with no sense of doctrinal history condemned him for age-old questions asked in Love Wins. I saw him speak live at Duke and even got my picture taken with him. (He’s much taller than me.)
But I was saddened to read a recent interview with him by RNS. I can live with controversial, envelope-pushing popular Christian reflection. I can tolerate the hipster glasses and skinny jeans. But getting in league with Oprah and her army of overhyped pseudo-experts? This is a bridge too far.
Think about the other personalities under Oprah’s corporate umbrella:
Dr. Phil McGraw, a straight-talking Texan who dispenses counseling mints to millions of homes a week, making the frightening and deep inner work of therapy look as simple as talking to your local rodeo clown. While McGraw does have a legitimate doctorate in clinical psychology, he has not been licensed to practice in any state since 1989. (Imagine me offering advice on the church, pastoral care, and theology if my denomination had severed ties with me over 20 years ago!)
Dr. Mehmet Oz, a leading surgeon whose television success came at the expense of putting his stamp on all kinds of snake oil backed by psuedo-science. Some of his claims about phony weight loss products were so egregious that the US Senate got involved (because priorities).
In both instances, their relevance to mass audiences have taken legitimate concerns (physical and mental health) and commodified them to the point of tragicomedy.
A few years ago, I would have thought Bell a poor fit for such company, but now I am less certain. Perhaps burned from the (admittedly ridiculous) backlash following Love Wins, Bell has essentially abandoned the church:
Now resettled near Los Angeles, the couple no longer belongs to a traditional church. “We have a little tribe of friends,” Bell said. “We have a group that we are journeying with. There’s no building. We’re churching all the time. It’s more of a verb for us.”
I wonder what the thousands of people who came to faith under Bell’s ministry at Mars Hill think of this? Personally, I would feel as if I’d been sold a bag of magic beans. To think of it another way: the guy who so smoothly and confidently convinced you to buy a Honda is now driving a Fiat.
Rob Bell’s obsession with relevance – the desire to “matter” to the concerns and questions of contemporary culture – turns out to have been an invitation to entropy. Bell is now so relevant that he seems to have little interest in Christianity. Last year, in a speech at Vanderbilt University, he introduced himself as everything but a pastor, and didn’t mention his former calling until about 20 minutes in. Moreover, when asked by RNS about working with Oprah, a notorious consumer from and promoter of the buffet of quasi-spiritualities, he responded:
“Is she a Christian? That word has so much baggage, I wouldn’t want to answer for someone. When Jesus talks about the full divine life, you think, this is what he’s talking about.”
I have no idea when Jesus talked about “the full divine life,” except when speaking about himself. If the price of cultural relevance is that the “baggage” of a basic descriptor like ‘Christian’ is too much to palate or the particularity of the Son of God is an embarrassment, then it is time to stop making a fool’s bargain.
Rob spent a church building a career career building a church that was “relevant.” The threshold for entry was low; it didn’t look, talk, or feel like “church,” and people responded in droves. Bell, in turn, built his brand on identifying with the non-religious and skeptic folks who were turned off by anything too obviously Christian. But now, it appears, he has gone native.
A pyrrhic victory is one which is too costly to be considered a legitimate win. Bell’s trajectory shows clearly that the cost of cultural acceptance – the cost of relevance – is too high to pay. The relevant pastor and the relevant congregation will find much success, as the world defines it. But in earning that victory, it appears that one becomes so co-opted that the costs outweigh the benefits. Looking back to the Civil War, we might consider the example of Confederate General Robert E. Lee constantly defeating Ulysses Grant’s attacks with superior tactics, but unable to sustain the campaign in the face of the superior resources of the North, who could afford the losses. Likewise, pastors and churches who win the battle for relevance soon realize the long-term costs are far higher than first anticipated, and will then often find themselves co-opted beyond all restoration by the world they were trying to reach. Playing to consumerism ends up consuming you.
Rob Bell is our next Dr. Phil, an expert whose expertise has been twisted to relevant, market-driven agenda. He has gone from a pastor, a guide of souls, a preacher of the gospel, to just another space filler in Oprah’s cubby of spiritual shills.
[Warning: serious spoilers below. You’ve been warned.]
“Everything costs something, right?”
Season 5, episode 4 of The Walking Dead takes a departure to catch us up on a character we haven’t seen in quite a while. Last we saw Beth, she was carted off by mysterious forces in a vehicle sporting a white cross. In last night’s episode, “Slabtown,” Beth wakes up in an unexpected place: a hospital, which we later learn is Grady Memorial in Atlanta. In a throwback to the pilot episode, she awakens in a strange location unsure what has happened. The woman in charge of the hospital, Dawn, sets the tone immediately. Because we used our resources to save you, she says to Beth, “You owe us.”
Beth soon learns that the abandoned hospital is run by survivors who have been rescued (kidnapped? kidrescued?) and then repay their debt by working various tasks inside the hospital. Outside is nothing but zombies walkers/biters/rotters, so even those at the top of the hierarchy are basically trapped. But in this inhumane place, the male guards abuse the female workers, and those who want to leave are threatened. Anyone who questions the system is reminded what it took to rescue them. “Everything costs something, right?” as one character says. Beth even refuses food at first because she realizes it will only run up her tab faster.
“Slabtown,” aside from being the kind of interesting, creepy, and suspenseful episode viewers have come to expect from The Walking Dead, also offers the perfect picture of life without grace. Everything costs. Nothing is simply given.
Thanks be to God that the Divine Economy works differently. With God, nothing is earned, all is given. As Ephesians 2:8-9 (NRSV) says,
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast.”
As Tim Keller points out in The Prodigal God (and the parable of the sower further suggests), our God is not stingy in doling out grace. When we meet God, His first word is not “you owe me” but, like the loving father in the story of the prodigal son, “all that I have is already yours.”
My church recently started a weekly meal for the community; anyone who wants to come in for a meal gets fed, at no cost. When people ask us if they can pay, we tell them no, that there are other ways they can show gratitude if they wish but the meal is free.
We call this ministry Table of Grace, because the food, like God’s grace, is free of charge. “Slabtown” gives us an excellent view of a world (or at least a half-operative apocalyptic hospital) that has forgotten grace. Too often Christians, though, act exactly this way. We only recruit new church members with “resources.” We plant churches in wealthy neighborhoods and only befriend those who can enhance our status and help us reach our goals. We ask our community to pay our bills (with incessant fundraisers) but never give anything back to our neighbors. The temptation of mammon remains, and always will.
But followers of Jesus are at our best when we remember that God is not miserly with His grace. Though we capitalist North Americans so often hate to receive for nothing, though it is antithetical to the world we live in, that is the Kingdom economy that we meet in the Bible. Unlike the apocalypse-stricken Grady Memorial in Atlanta, the truth of the cosmos is an economy of grace.
That which matters most is free; God writes no bills, and we could not buy His love with any amount of money. Thanks be to God.
Forget basketball, soccer, softball, and those Olympic sports we all pretend to like every four years. Mixed martial arts (MMA) should be feminists’ favorite sport. Derived from a blending of martial arts such as karate, wrestling, kickboxing, and jiu-jitsu, MMA is unique in placing its female fighters and champions on equal footing with their male counterparts. Feminists should love MMA.
The chief example of this is UFC women’s bantamweight champion Ronda Rousey. It was not long ago that UFC President Dana White promised we’d never see women in the Octagon. What changed?
Dana met Ronda Rousey.
Since coming onto the scene, Ronda has rapidly become one of the UFC’s biggest stars, commanding a crossover appeal (doing commercials, late-night TV, and movies) without parallel among her male peers. And she’s not just a pretty face. The former Olympic judoka has defended her title multiple times, improving her performance with each outing despite a staggeringly demanding schedule. Also, she got it honest: her mother was an world-class judoka who later earned a PhD. Talk about a family of accomplished women!
Compare this to other major sports leagues, where women hardly get the same platform that men do. The WNBA cannot boast of anyone who rivals the star power of Lebron James; most other major sports don’t have a league for female athletes that even comes close to the WNBA’s exposure or popularity (which isn’t saying much).
Contrast that to MMA, where, in the UFC and other organizations, female fighters headline cards and draw pay-per-view buyers and serious sponsors. Moreover, Rousey and her main rival, Miesha Tate, coached a season of The Ultimate Fighter (TUF) where they coached men and women. How many other sports can boast that, in their first 20 years in existence, women coach men at the highest level? Building on the success of Rousey and the bantamweight division she spearheads, the new season of TUF features an exclusively female cast introducing the 115-pound women’s division.
So in my view women, and those who care about the advancement of women (in a society that still too often treats them as second-class citizens), should be among the most vocal advocates for MMA. In no other sport have female athletes come to occupy such a prominent position, equal to and even surpassing many of the male stars, in so short a time frame.
If you want to be in the business of rewarding activities that empower women and treat them equally, then MMA is for you.
“Man is the only animal that blushes. Or needs to.”
People are not animals; we have conscience and consciousness, a level of self-awareness and self-agency that gives us greater ability to be both more glorious and diabolical than other living things. In an increasingly secular age, however, the modern West’s materialism – which recognizes nothing particularly important about the spiritual realm, if at all acknowledged – lends itself to a “blurring of the lines” (pun intended, see below) in regards to the differences between humans and animals. This has struck me recently for two reasons.
First, we define ourselves as animals with impulses that we cannot and need not control. I do not get angry at my dog for barking at the UPS man because she’s doing what a protective breed of dog (the boxer) is supposed to do. Animals have nothing to go on but instinct. As Chris Rock once said of the unnecessary shock that was expressed when Siegfried and Roy were attacked by one of their tigers, “That tiger didn’t go crazy – that tiger went tiger!” But a new Maroon 5 song suggests not merely that people are animals, but that predatory behavior should be expected and even glorified:
Baby I’m preying on you tonight
Hunt you down eat you alive
Just like animals
When Johnny Cash sang about “The Beast in Me,” he at least knew to cage the beast, not celebrate it. While Adam Levine has received criticism for the song and the uber-creepy video – in which his own wife is quite literally likened to a piece of meat – not everyone has been so concerned. PETA suggested Levine’s “art” did not go far enough, and that, since we’re all “animals,” we should be compassionate animals and be vegan. All in all, it is quite a feat for a song to make Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” sound like a sweet croon.
If one consequence of the blurred line between human and animal is treating others like beasts to be preyed upon, another is treating ourselves like animals to be put down. A young woman in Oregon is receiving a lot of attention for her public plan to die with the assistance of state-approved drugs on November 1st. Brittany Maynard’s story is certainly moving; she essentially has the worst form of brain cancer possible, and wants to choose the time and place of her death rather than endure the extreme suffering that her disease will inevitably entail.
As a pastor, I’ve sat with dying and suffering people more than most. And we should have compassion for folks who must face such a terrible prognosis. But I find it difficult to see assisted suicide as it is touted: as a choice for dignity. It says much about our society, so riven by moral chaos, that the only thing on which we can agree as a moral good is greater and increasing choice – even if that choice is to treat ourselves like animals.
But animals we are not. We are humans, made in the image of God, flesh and spirit, sinew and soul. That some Westerners are beginning to take the logic of denying our particular nature and calling to its conclusion is troubling, though not surprising. But we are humans, and we all should resist the normalization of language and practices that treat us more as animals than people. This is especially true for Christians, who confess that humans are created “just a little lower than the angels” (Psalm 8:5) in the image of our Creator, with a special vocation to care for creation, including one another, as God’s precious gift.
We are not prey to be hunted or sick dogs to be put down. We are humans, uniquely equipped to know the good and to do it. The fastest path away from both of those, however, is to deny who, what, and Whose we are.
Healthy discourse is hard to come by, especially in contemporary forms of media in which the best way to get attention is through insult, rant, and hyperbole. We all say we hate sensationalism, but the ugly truth is we are far less likely to read something that doesn’t make a shocking or outrageous claim. Much of the Christian blogosphere, as reliant as it is on idol-worship and idol-busting, is rife with this sort of madness.
After all, it is much easier to dismiss an interlocutor with insinuation, ad-hominem, or labeling than to actually engage ideas with which we disagree. That is because, in our infinite capacity for self-deception, we easily keep exclusively to the self-licking ice cream cone of our own ideological outhouses. We too often succumb to the temptation of intellectual comfort by surrounding ourselves with those who agree with us, who confirm all our biases, and then proceed to shout down in the most dishonest and uncharitable fashion possible any criticism we receive.
Welcome to the internet. Welcome to our polarized society and church.
But there are some different voices, and they are worth highlighting because change will only occur if we reward people for writing with sense and sensitivity, with passion and restraint. Here are three examples, all with similar stories to tell, and all people of intellectual rigor and genuine caritas.
David Watson from United Theological Seminary reminds us that how we argue is as important, if not more so, than the truth for which we argue. Ends and means both matter.
Stephen Rankin from Southern Methodist University tells a personal story about how his own sincere, bridge-building effort to move a difficult conversation forward was dismissed out of hand with a simple label. A sad, all too common story.
Evan Rohrs-Dodge, a UM pastor and fellow curator over at Via Media Methodists, uses Aragorn to remind us how important it is to actually listen to one another. Listening is harder, but the only way to actually get anywhere.
As Chesterton asserted, it is easier to quarrel than to argue. A quality argument can do much to bring needed change to couples, families, churches, and whole societies. But petty tempter-tantrums and name-calling will only dissolve our bonds and harm whatever efforts there are to produce genuine conversation.