Newsletter #105
On Alistair Begg and Knowing Where to Draw Lines
Are truth and love the only axis upon which Christian living intersect, or simply the central one? Today, a longer meditation on developments within the Roman Catholic Church and the Protestant evangelical world…
What’s in a Blessing?
Readers of this newsletter know that I’ve been closely following developments within the Roman Catholic Church. Particularly, I’ve been studying the Vatican’s recent statements about blessing same-sex couples. I completely understand why some non-Catholics’ eyes glaze over in response to a multi-page document authored by a Catholic Cardinal on behalf of the Pope. It’s a word salad to some, and irrelevant to others. Why should an American Protestant care about what the Pope says or thinks?
Presbyterian historian-theologian Carl Trueman has answered that question reasonably well in a recent article. It’s a useful response, but insufficient on its own.
From the moment I began digging into the story I went straight to the sources. I read every document issued by the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (the entity responsible for articulating and defending official Catholic teaching).
First, there were the dubia, questions Cardinals issued to the Pope seeking clarification, including the issue of blessing same-sex unions. Then there was Fiducia supplicans, the actual Declaration which sparked the controversy. Finally came the subsequent documents seeking to clarify the original Declaration. Altogether they're a maze of reasoning about what bishops and priests may or may not do for same-sex couples and others in “irregular situations.”
Nearly the entire argument hinges upon what one means by the word “bless,” or to put it more practically, what one intends to convey by issuing a blessing. Of course, those concerned about the original Declaration by Cardinal Victor Manual Fernández (on behalf of Pope Francis) would add another element: what might be perceived by the pronouncement of said blessings by those receiving them, and those observing them? What message are such blessings sending, even if unintentional?
Coming Closer to Home
It was with some interest that I read Daniel Ritchie’s recent article at Ministry Watch. On January 26, he published a story about counsel that popular Calvinist pastor and Bible teacher Alistair Begg gave in a September interview. Begg mentions a situation in which a grandmother sought his advice about whether to attend the wedding of her grandson, who was marrying someone who identified as transgender. Let me quote directly from Ritchie here:
Begg acknowledged people may disagree with his answer.
Begg said he first confirmed that the woman’s grandson understood she was a Christian and could not affirm his lifestyle choices. When she said that was true, he responded, “Well then, okay. As long as he knows that, then I suggest that you do go to the ceremony. And I suggest that you buy them a gift.”
When the grandmother was caught off guard, Begg continued, “Well, here’s the thing: Your love for them may catch them off guard, but your absence will simply reinforce the fact that they said, ‘These people are what I always thought: judgmental, critical, unprepared to countenance anything.’”
Begg also acknowledged that his advice required one to walk a fine line. “I think we’re going to have to take that risk,” he said. “We’re going to have to take that risk a lot more if we want to build bridges into the hearts and lives of those who don’t understand Jesus and don’t understand that he is a King.”
When the news initially broke, I remember thinking that this story would garner attention. Boy, did it! Ministry Watch’ editor reflected on the advice soon after Ritchie’s initial story and labeled it a mistake, one that should be clarified or corrected. (As of their latest report, they indicate that Begg has stood by his counsel, and offered additional biblical reflection on the controversy to his Ohio congregation.)
The initial story can be interpreted in at least three ways. First, the story is more about the response of American Family Radio, who carries Begg’s Truth for Life program. (They dropped it.) A second way to view the story is a popular, conservative teacher weighed in on a controversial issue. What religious news organization wouldn’t want to report that? A third perspective is that a longtime, conservative, evangelical stalwart has “gone woke,” “sold out,” or “lost his way.”
I’ve purposely avoided reading everything about this. I nearly decided not to comment on it at all. While the story is about much more than cancellation or the increasingly internecine squabbling online mong evangelicals, I cannot help but think of Daniel Boorstin’s “pseudo-events.” I don’t think this was a publicity stunt by anyone, but I do think that thousands of pastors (including famous ones) give ad hoc advice everyday based on their reading of the Bible. Sometimes we get it wrong; sometimes what we say is perfectly reasonable, even if other believers adopt different views. But in our current media and political environment, comments like Begg’s have a way of creating a riptide that pulls everyone in before pulling them apart.
Let me go on the record and say that I don’t think Begg’s counsel was wise. But I also agree largely with the sentiments of Russell Moore and Samuel James. James insists that we must resist the “throw-away culture” that says that because we disagree with another believer—even a long-time trusted figure like Begg—we must part ways entirely. Such a mindset leads to knee-jerk boycotts, scapegoating, slander, and many other unwise or unbiblical responses.
In the case of the former, I appreciate Moore’s distinction between a marriage and a wedding. One can agree on the biblical definition of marriage while not fully agreeing on the particular meaning associated with any and all “weddings.” That is to say, part of how you view your attendance at a wedding is tied to what you think a wedding means—implicitly and explicitly. Moore disagrees with Begg on these grounds, and says that while Begg’s counsel is legitimate within the realm of conscience (a New Testament priority), he believes that Begg errs too much on the side of grace instead of truth.
I also second Moore’s personal remarks about his own high bar he applies to weddings. Frankly, I don’t officiate many weddings. Some of this owes to the composition of my congregation, but plenty of it stems from my own careful approach to performing any weddings that I think may put me at odds with Scripture, my ordination vows, or my conscience. I’m sure I haven’t gotten it right, but for now, I sleep fine with the balance I’ve struck on this issue. But I can imagine attending some weddings, though not many, that I wouldn't personally perform.
At its core, the current controversy deals with a legitimate and increasingly common question: should Christians attend the weddings of couples whose understanding of marriage, gender, and/or sexuality is fundamentally different than theirs?
I’ve had to answer these questions for myself. I've been asked for counsel by congregants. Eventually we all must decide—assuming we haven’t already.
Converging Controversies
When I first read Fiducia supplicans I knew that it was much more than the latest ambiguity from the Vatican. If it’s taken at face value (and I realize why doing that is quite charitable!), it is fundamentally about maintaining truth and extending love in a confused and corrupt world, and different visions for how to do this.
Let’s take the Dicastery and Pope Francis at their word for a moment. They genuinely want the church to extend “pastoral charity” and avoid being “judges who only deny, reject and exclude.” They don’t want the Scriptural concept of a blessing to be only expressed in a complex liturgical rite. They want to offer “a more pastoral approach to blessings.” In taking this approach, they want to avoid subjecting every person’s request for a blessing to some kind of “exhaustive moral analysis.” At the same time, they desire to “avoid any form of confusion or scandal.” (Note: This is a mercifully brief summary of what the Declaration conveys. Feel free to read it for yourself here.)
Most of what is at stake in the debate is, “what’s in a blessing?” Protestants like me would generally respond by saying there are two broad senses to the word. First, “bless” can refer to God blessing people. Think, “Be fruitful and multiply.” Of course, it could include specific extra-biblical ways in which God blesses people, such as with a spouse and children. A second usage of “bless” is especially found in the Psalms: we bless the Lord. “Bless” is often used interchangeably with “praise” in such instances (e.g., Ps. 103:1).
The nature and usage of blessings is varied and numerous in the broader Christian tradition. The recent papal documents reference their Book of Blessings, but other Protestants and Orthodox Christians have versions of this. However, despite the differences among these groups, we’re all concerned with an understanding of blessings that may entail God’s love and our concern but doesn’t entail God’s approval and ours.
Whether we’re dealing with the Catholic priest deciding how to pray a blessing over Catholics in a same-sex relationship, or an evangelical deciding if they should attend their gay co-worker’s wedding, we wrestle with what our words and actions in such contexts represent.
Despite the profound differences between Catholic liturgy and theology and Protestant liturgy and theology, they both assume that intentions matter, but they aren’t everything. What we actually do matters. Moreover, the forms of our actions (call them “cultural”) mean different things to different people in different situations. Think of Clifford Geertz’s classic description of humans and culture: “man is an animal suspended in webs of significance he himself has spun.” He then famously said, “I take culture to be those webs.” As such, analyzing human actions aren’t physics or chemistry. It’s an act of interpretation in which we seek meaning.
If most of the world sees a clergyman in vestments praying over a couple, would they more likely assume the couple’s obedience and piety, or his exclusive approval of their dignity but not their relationship? If you go ahead and attend your child’s gender transition surgery, do the nurses and doctors discern your affirmation of his/her identity, or mere concern for physical survival? Words matter, and so do actions. Our involvement with and presence to others convey meaning.
Now then—and here’s where Begg’s counsel has the greatest strength—Jesus himself was the target of criticism for involving himself in the lives of unbelievers. He was scorned for eating and socializing with tax collectors and sinners, in their homes no less. On the surface, their scorn bears a striking resemblance to the harsh (and possibly Pharisaical) criticism of Begg.
The problem is assuming that because Jesus went into some contexts with unbelievers he would have most assuredly gone into all contexts with unbelievers. That’s quite a leap in logic. Moreover, committed Catholics and Protestants are both wrestling with the application of the Pope’s encouragement and Begg’s counsel in more meaning-laden settings than just a supper table.
Is this a self-identified Catholic who is likely to discern a blessing on his marriage as something more than a prayer for good health or wisdom?
Are these same-sex partners trying to create a publicity stunt by casually walking into a local Catholic parish and requesting a blessing?
Are you being asked to be at your co-worker’s wedding to their same-sex partner to “support them on their big day”?
Is your gay sister wanting you to attend her wedding, even though she acknowledges and fully accepts that you disagree with it and do not approve?
Is your unsaved cousin daring you to attend his marriage to his trans partner because, after all, everyone knows you’re a bigot and won’t show up anyway?
Will Truth or Love Prevail?
I could name a thousand all-too-real scenarios that Christians—clergy or not—have faced, are facing, or will face. The fallout from the Pope’s recent Declaration continues as concerned bishops and priests push back. Moore and James are joined by many other voices offering valid considerations in response to Begg. (I think first of Carl Trueman at First Things, and Owen Strachan at Grace & Truth.) At best, these examples complicate our neatly formed opinions. We start to realize that the who, what, when, where, why, and how of all human situations matter.
We also realize that perhaps our simple picture of balancing truth and love is just that: simple. We envision Ephesians 4:15 as a kind of formula. Get the right amount of truth and the right amount of love, and you’ll find the Divine balance good Christians seek. Like the see saw, it’s basic physics. This interpretation and application of Ephesians 4:15 errs in three main ways.
First, it ignores that the context of that verse is specifically about speech. This doesn’t mean that truth and love don’t apply to other actions, but it should make us slow to think that truth and love are the only moral or theological matrix we can use to make difficult decisions. It may be the most important one, but it is by no means the only one.
Second, John’s Gospel speaks extensively of love and truth, but it begins by speaking of grace and truth (1:14). Jesus emphasizes the importance of a non-judgmental posture in John 8, and a humble one in John 13. Jump over to Galatians and the full range of spiritual fruit are mentioned (5:22-23). Hop back to 1 Corinthians 13 and our one-dimensional view of love (often reduced to approval) is challenged. We’re told that love isn’t love, but love is patient, kind, and so much more. So love may be the greatest of all, but isn’t that statement…truth? And even if love is the greatest, it’s part of a larger fabric in which love regularly manifests itself in showing patience, kindness, humility, and yes, speaking truth (see Eph. 4:15!).
Third, the moral life is always lived in time and place. That is to say, we seek to live wisely in the context of varied situations. We seek to be true to Spirit-informed consciences (see Romans 14-15). And we do this in a world where people have made a mess of everything from marriage to parenting, money to business, education to entertainment. We make decisions and give advice in that world. No other world.
When we’re making the toughest decisions, we need to do it from a place of spiritual growth (character) and biblical understanding (truth), a place of accountability to the body (community), and be fully prepared to submit ourselves to the judgments of God, knowing we may be wrong, but we think we’re doing the wisest thing (conscience).
God, help our churches to cultivate Christians who choose well in this present evil age, and who help others learn to choose well.
Follow-Up:
In Newsletter #101 I wrote about family strains and estrangement. An op-ed in our local newspaper about the topic had been lingering with me, especially since the author married into a family who I know well.
The theme of relationships surfaces in nearly every human endeavor, even if people speaking or writing about things aren’t consciously intending to do that. Parent-children relationships are as consequential and fraught as any. You may not have a wife, but rest assured, you had parents (whether they were present to raise you or not).
In a recent post by Jonathan Rogers, he reflects on nature of life as a gift, and some of the implications of this perspective in a market economy that cannot make sense of all human value and concern.
What I’m Reading or Rereading:
Matthew Barrett, The Reformation as Renewal: Retrieving the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.
Donald Whitney, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life.
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice.
David Grann, The Wager: A Tale of Mutiny, Shipwreck, and Murder.
Blake Crouch, Dark Matter: A Novel.
Quote of the Week:
The philosopher Charles Taylor has argued that, since at least the late 20th century, Western societies have been defined by “a generalized culture of ‘authenticity,’ or expressive individualism, in which people are encouraged to find their own way, discover their own fulfillment, ‘do their own thing.’” Taylor describes a phenomenon that’s all too easy to recognize in today’s pop psychology and the maundering of wellness influencers, but his concept doesn’t quite capture the extent to which this relentless quest for self-optimizing authenticity has infused our social and even political sensibilities.
We might call this turbocharged version of authenticity culture “therapeutic libertarianism”: the belief that self-improvement is the ultimate goal of life, and that no formal or informal constraints—whether imposed by states, faith systems, or other people—should impede each of us from achieving personal growth. This attitude is therapeutic because it is invariably couched in self-help babble. And it is libertarian not only because it makes a cult out of personal freedom, but because it applies market logic to human beings. We are all our own start-ups. We must all adopt a pro-growth mindset for our personhood and deregulate our desires. We must all assess and reassess our own “fulfillment,” a kind of psychological Gross Domestic Product, on a near-constant basis. And like the GDP, our fulfillment must always increase.
Tyler Austin Harper, “Polyamory: The Ruling Class’s Latest Fad.”
Common Grace Wisdom (CGW): On Race and the Academy
Thomas Sowell is one of the most prolific economists and social scientists of the last half century. At age 93, his output is remarkable. He also happens to be black.
Black intellectuals have struggled to avoid being pigeonholed by others in academia and mainstream cultural institutions. Sowell defies a lot of the stereotypes by bringing wisdom, precision, and clarity to many subjects, whether race-relations, economic theories, social justice, and much more.
I point readers back to an episode of the Glenn Show from a couple of years ago. Glenn Loury discusses Sowell’s legacy with a biographer, Jason Riley. The excerpt I’ve linked to deals more with race and academics, but the entire episode treats Sowell’s legacy more fully.
Parting Shot: Some Humor, Courtesy of Carole Hooven
In the 1920s, U.S. president Calvin Coolidge and his wife were taken on separate tours of an experimental government farm. When Mrs. Coolidge visited the poultry area, she noted that the cockerel was mating frequently, and she asked the poultry hand how many times a day this occurred. His answer was “dozens of times.” “Tell Mr. Coolidge,” she replied. When his wife’s message was conveyed to him, the president asked, “Was it the same hen each time?” “No,” said the poultry hand, “it was a different hen each time.” To which the president replied, “Tell Mrs. Coolidge.”
