I wanted to give a little follow-up on my sermons on 1 Samuel 14 from the last couple of weeks:
- In the opening of my June 9 sermon, I told the story of Waverly Wray, a paratrooper from Batesville, Mississippi who carried out a valiant mission and killed ten Nazi soldiers with ten shots. You can read about Wray online, but the best and most complete account of his exploits on D-Day and +1 can be found in Stephen Ambrose’s excellent book Citizen Soldiers, pages 17-21.
- I closed that same sermon with a story about the Army Rangers responsible for taking the cliff of Point Du Hoc on D-Day. It’s another amazing story. Antonio Ruggerio was responsible for getting repelling equipment ashore. He’s the one who expressed his deep sense of duty: “Dear God, don’t let me drown. I want to get in and do what I’m supposed to do.” That quote is engraved on the wall of the memorial at Point Du Hoc. Ruggerio tells his story, along with several other Army Rangers, here. Ronald Reagan gave a famous speech at Point Du Hoc in 1984 which you can listen to here.
- In both sermons (I think?), I made the point that cowardice and courage are contagious. One man standing boldly against an enemy can empower others to do the same. In his book on D-Day (p. 427f), Ambrose tells the story of Army Ranger Captain John Raaen who came ashore at Normandy and saw how the men were paralyzed with fear on the beach. They were “shell-shocked, leaderless, unorganized.” Raaen seized the moment, quickly getting the men where they needed to be. He later said, “I had seen in my first minute of combat what showing complete lack of fear could do for your men.” He also found another important lesson of leadership that ties in with my sermon: Many men were able to overcome their fear when given a clearly defined mission to do: “On being given a specific assignment and carrying it out, most men got a grip on themselves and went on to do their duty.” Men were made for the mission; having a mission and knowing other men are counting on you to get it done, helps men overcomes their fears. Of course, Raaen was inspired by his superior, General Cota, who told him, “You men are Rangers and I know you won’t let me down…We’re counting on Rangers to lead the way” (p. 430). Ambrose also tells a great story about a courageous chaplain, Father Joe Lacy, but I won’t tell that one here — you’ll have to read it for yourself (p. 429). Bottom line: D-Day is filled with examples of men literally en-courage-ing one another — filling one another with courage through their words and example.
- In last Sunday’s sermon, I pointed out how the Israelite militia canceled out Saul’s unjust decree that Jonathan must die for violating an arbitrary law he knew nothing about. This is an example of the biblical, covenantal principle of nullification. Nullification is rooted partially in the principle that legitimate government requires the consent of the governed, but especially in the principle that there is a higher law than the law of the state — namely, the law of God. When civil laws conflict with divine law, lesser magistrates and (in some cases) citizens can act to nullify those laws. Nullification is closely related to the doctrine of interposition, which you’ve heard me talk about before. A modern application of this which fits very well with 1 Samuel 14 is jury nullification. Juries not only stand in judgment of the facts of the case (did the accused violate the law?), they stand in judgment of the law itself (is this a just or unjust law?). Some good background can be found here. As I’ve said, one of the most exciting things about preaching through the book of Samuel is seeing how much political and civic wisdom is threaded through the book.
- At the close of last Sunday’s sermon, I said something like, “Churches that are not explicitly committed to biblical faithfulness will drift from it into apostasy. Individual Christians who are not explicitly committed to following Christ and submitting to his authority in all of life will eventually fall away Christian institutions that are not openly and constitutionally committed to biblical fidelity will eventually renounce it and move towards progressivism.” This is a variation on and Christianization of what is known as Conquest’s Second Law which states, “Any organization not explicitly and constitutionally right-wing will sooner or later become left-wing.” (You can find out more about Conquest’s Three Laws here or in chapter 9 of Auron MacIntyre’s book Total State.) What Robert Conquest recognized is that it takes more effort to build than to tear down, more courage to do what is right than what is wrong, and more conviction to stand for truth than to fall for lies. There is no way around this reality: It is simply hard to be faithful and do the right thing in a fallen world. Or to put it in a slightly different way, in a fallen world, it is easier to sin than do what is right. Bering wicked takes little effort; doing what is right takes energy and commitment. We see this in parenting: we do not have to teach our kids to sin; we do have to train them to be kind, self-controlled, grateful, generous, etc. Sin always hhas momentum on its side. There is such a thing as moral and spiritual entropy, and it’s seen in all kinds of ways. Why do once great nations and empires slide and usually end up destroying themselves from within? Why do we see some professing Christians cave into obviously destructive cultural trends and forsake the faith? Why have so many Christian churches, colleges, schools, and other institutions fallen for wokeness? There is almost always a great deal of pressure to abandon what is good, true, and beautiful for what is easy, relevant, and popular (cf. Romans 12:1-2). Unless we are very clear, courageous, and explicit in our convictions, we will have a hard time standing firm. Most people are sheep, easily steered and manipulated by worldly powers, popular influencers, celebrities, etc. Most people are too timid and cowardly to not jump on board with “the latest thing” the media serves up. When individuals and institutions apostatize from the faith, it usually does not happen all at once. The book of Hebrews (which is one long, extended warning about apostasy) encourages us to “pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away” (Hebrews 2:1). The drifting is often imperceptible at first like a frog in a pot slowly brought a boil. The Scriptures are filled with exhortations to stand firm for just this reason. As Chesterton said, a man can fall over in many directions, but only stand upright in one.
A few links I want to share:
- Doug Wilson and I joined the hosts of the Red Pill Reformation podcast to discuss the Federal Vision, a theological controversy that has roiled the Presbyterian and Reformed world for about 20 years. FV is basically about taking God’s covenant seriously and allowing the Bible to shape our language. There is a lot of “inside baseball” here, so not everyone will be (or needs to be) familiar with the issues, but some of you might find it interesting.
- Lutheran sociologist Scott Yenor is one of my favorite current writers. In this essay, Yenor argues that civic renewal cannot happen without the recovery of exclusively male spaces where men can build a “band of brothers” to work together on ambitious cultural projects.
- Some of you have heard me recently talk about Robert Henderson’s memoir, Troubled. Henderson’s book is sort of the California version of J. D. Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy (though I do not think Henderson has converted to any form of Christian faith the way Vance did). Like Vance, Henderson had a wretched childhood, got straightened out largely because of the military, ended up getting an Ivy League education, and has now become a very perceptive commentator on our culture’s decline. One of Henderson’s valuable insights, learned from hard experience, is that (contrary to progressive belief) what children need most is not education but a stable home life. Henderson wrote some reflections on fatherlessness (a hidden “tax on life,” as he calls it) here.
At some point, we will have conference video from the “Courageous Church, Hostile World” conference we held at TPC back in February. In the meantime, I wanted to follow up on one aspect of my talk — the significance of church bells.
Bells have a long and important history in the church. They were used from quite early on to summon the community to worship. Of course, the earliest Christians met in homes or even secret places, like catacombs; as a persecuted sect, they didn’t own their own property and could not afford to use bells. But after persecution subsided and the church became more established, with her own buildings, bells became an important component of the liturgy. The first recorded use of church bells dates from the fifth century, and is attributed to Bishop Paulinus of Nola in Campania, Italy. Bells especially came into widespread usage in the medieval church, with the construction of the great cathedrals. These bells were usually crafted by monks in monastery foundries. The Celtic church of Ireland was especially known for its beautiful bells; the famous Bell of St. Patrick in Belfast, Ireland is one oldest church bells still in existence. Some church bells from the Middle Ages were quite large, such as the 2600 pound bell used in the cathedral of Orleans, France. Modern bells, such as the massive fifteen ton cast used in St. Francis de Sales Church in Cincinnati, Ohio are even larger.
Because their ring can be heard over long distances, bells served as a reminder of the “public” nature of the church and the gospel. The church is not a private club, and the gospel is not a private message. The church is God’s holy nation, his new Israel and new Jerusalem. The gospel is public, factual truth, announcing the greatest events of cosmic history and their world-shaping significance. The gospel remains true whether people believe it or not; but because it is objectively true, it cannot help but nose its way into the so-called public square. Traditionally, bells were used to summon the whole village or city to worship the living God, the Maker and Redeemer of heaven and earth. This summons went far and wide, reminding everyone of their obligation to give homage to the world’s true Lord by gathering with his people.
With increasing secularization, emerging pluralism, and the privatization of religion in the twentieth century, church bells fell out of fashion, and were often outlawed by city ordinances. But even in modern times, bells have served an important symbolic function in the church’s battle with idolatry. For example, when the Communist party took over Russia, the priests in the Orthodox Church were commanded to stop their custom of ringing the church bells before Eucharistic services. The priests rightly understood this was a way of silencing the church and driving her underground. Many priests boldly continued to ring those church bells, as a way of openly proclaiming that Christ is Lord and the Communist party is not; ringing the bells served a way of marking out the church’s turf and resisting a godless regime. Sadly, but not surprisingly, many of those same priests lost their lives because of their steadfast courage.
Muslims also have a history of silencing (or, really, destroying) church bells whenever they invade Christian lands. Communists want to replace church bells with the factory whistle as part of redefining man from worshipper of God to worker in the communist system. Likewise, Muslims want to replace church bells with the adhan to call people to prayer. Like church bells, the adhan is typically public; in modern Muslim communities, loudspeakers are often used so the whole community hears it. In other words, church bells and the adhan represent a battle over public (aural) space: Whose God — the Trinity or Allah — will be honored in public?
In Wendell Berry’s Jayber Crow, the character who has the job of ringing the church bell says, “The bell, I thought, voiced the best sermon of the day; it included everything and, in a way, blessed it.” Indeed.
(For more, see here: http://trinity-pres.net/essays/When_Church_Bells_Stopped_Ringing.pdf)
I came across a tweet from Nancy Pearcey where she said this (I think it’s an excerpt from her recent book on masculinity which I have already reviewed):
“Most husbands think that if they show any fear or weakness or vulnerability to their wives, their wives will lose respect for them. They obviously don’t know women very well….
The wife cherishes being able to help a man be what he cannot be without her. So, when you share your innermost thoughts with your wife, you’re not just meeting her needs, you’re helping yourself.”
My response: The issue I would have with the Pearcey quote above is that “most husbands” (at least in Christian circles) think the opposite of what she says and so they show more weakness, sensitivity, etc. to their wives than is appropriate for a man (which can have the effect of lessening her attraction towards him)
On the one hand, a woman does not want to be married to a Stoic robot. There are situations where “vulnerability” is entirely appropriate. He really does need her help, and should tell her how she can be best help him. He really should confess his sin to her when he has broken God’s law in relation to her. He should be humble enough to listen to her and glean insights from her wisdom.
On the other hand, she needs to know she married a “stronger vessel” who has the resilience and strength to take care of her, even if all hell breaks loose. He is to live and act in such a way that he commands her respect rather than her pity. He needs to lead her, guide her, and direct her in fulfilling the mission of their household.
Too much stoicism from him and she will never feel close to him. Too much vulnerability from him, and she will never feel secure with him. The wise man will mix toughness and tenderness in the right way, at the right times, to the right degree.
A couple notes on why I am so critical of feminism and use the label “patriarchy”:
1. Blaming feminism for various catastrophes in our culture is not the same as blaming women. Opposing feminism does not make you some kind misogynist. In fact, I think those who appreciate femininity must oppose feminism because feminism destroys femininity.
That being said, the church for generations now has been much harder on men’s sins than on women’s sins and this has had an impact. For example: Go to any evangelical church that does Mother’s Day and Father’s Day in the service ( bad idea, I know, but bear with me for illustrative purposes). Praise will be heaped on mothers on Mother’s Day. The thought that some mothers are actually not very good mothers, that there is such a thing as toxic femininity, never enters the picture. On the other hand, on Father’s Day, men will be berated for all their failings. The same kind of double standard applies to things like family court. A single mom who cannot take care of her children is given given government housing. A man who refuses to pay his child support, for most any reason, is thrown into prison (a rather different sort of government housing!).
The apostle Paul had no problem confronting women’s sins, just as he confronted men’s sins. He even called out sinful women by name in publicly read letters (sermons). He also did not hesitate to speak of characteristic, stereotypical sins in each sex. Pastors today are much more reluctant to do that kind of thing with women (not so much with men). We tend to default to feminine standards of piety and expectations, rather than understanding that masculine piety will look quite different from feminine piety. And women are hardly ever confronted directly — perhaps because of a misguided notion of chivalry (e.g., white-knighting), or for some other reason. This failure to confront and correct women when needed has opened the door to the feminization of the church. Further, the whole notion of the clergy as “the third sex,” a sort of androgynous being, is, sadly, often not far from the truth. Ann Douglas’s book on the feminization of American culture has some interesting things to say about this.
To come at this another way, feminism and fatherlessness are the two sides of the same crisis. We could talk about cause and effect and who’s to blame and all that, to no end, but it does not change the fact that virtually all of our social ills are just symptoms of this deeper nexus of problems, feminism/fatherlessness. Any reformation of civil society, any rebuilding of social capital, has to take this into account. Any church that wants to play a role in discipling our nation has to take this into account. Go talk to pastors in the inner city — the good ones I have talked to say the biggest issues they face are (1) no one gets married, the just keep having kids out of wedlock, and (2) fathers are just not around. Everything else falls apart because of those problems.
In general, feminism is the ideological, academic “white collar” version of this, and fatherlessness is the inner city, impoverished version. But they are the same thing, just under different guises.
2. Why use the label “patriarchy”? Jim Jordan rejected the label “patriarchy” in the sense that, e.g., Rushdoony advocated it. That was a particular expression of patriarchy — and I think a very unhealthy one because it essentially set the family up as a rival against the church. It was a kind of family-based tribalism. In that sense, I have been critical of patriarchy and continue to be. I have seen churches that tried that kind of patriarchy and it always leads to disasters. Sons growing up under heavy-handed, controlling fathers either become effeminate or rebel.
What I mean by “patriarchy” is just the traditional Christian view that fathers rule (e.g., read Steve Ozment’s book for a picture of what this looked like at the time of the Reformation). Or more broadly, the truth that men are called to serve as rulers. This is true across the board, in church, family, and society. Each sphere is a patriarchy in its own way. That’s not to say there isn’t the occasional Lydia who will serve as the head of her household and run a business, but those are exceptional circumstances, not the norm. Creation is designed with an in-built patriarchal structure. Men are made to rule. Indeed, male rule is inescapable. Virtually every society that we know of from all of history has had a patriarchal structure of some sort, where men take primary responsibility for the civic life of the community and women are primarily domestic. This sexual division of labor is built into the fabric of reality. You can get at it different ways (e.g., Alastair Roberts has spoken of men forming and women filling), but it is inescapable. We should not be overly rigid or legalistic in how we seek to establish and enforce these patterns, but in any healthy society these patterns will be fostered. When they are not, society unravels.
That is to say, the patriarchy is not a social construct. It is biologically driven. It is a divine design feature. We can rebel against it, but to our own hurt. The patriarchy cannot be smashed, but the (attempted) matriarchy must be.
There are certainly toxic forms of patriarchy. And certainly patriarchy has been used to justify all kinds of terrible things, just as feminism has. But the answer is not to do away with the patriarchy, it’s to build better patriarchs — men who rule themselves and are therefore fit and capable of ruling their families in wisdom and love as they extend the dominion of their household into the world.
All that said, if someone wanted to substitute another term for patriarchy, I would be fine with it. But the term has made a comeback in recent years, and a lot of the folks using the label are doing good things with it. I’m ok with it until and unless something better comes along.
3. An addendum: The dominion mandate is given to both men and women in Genesis 1, so obviously women rule as well. But the form their rule takes is different from the man’s. It’s not as if men and women are interchangeable cogs. Feminine dominion is normatively under the protective umbrella and leadership of masculine dominion. A wife/mother certainlky exercises authprity in her home (Proverbs 31, 1 Timothy 5), but she does so in submission to her husband. Think of an analogy: on a football team, the offensive coordinatopr exercises real authority over the players. He might create a the playbook and call the plays. But everything he does is under the overarching headship of the head coach.
I have been discussing paedocommunion a good bit lately. One thing that confirmed my move towards paedocommunion back in the 1990s was watching the credocommunion position in action, not only in the PCA church in which in served but in other churches around us. The whole procedure of admitting children to the table was regarded as incredibly important but also looked incredibly arbitrary.
There is no consensus among credocommunionists on the age or knowledge level required from children in order to partake, there is no consensus on whether or not non-communing members are subject to pastoral discipline if they never become communing members, there is no consensus on whether confirmation or a communicants class or cathechism memorization should be required, etc. Why would the Holy Spirit work in children generally around age 8 at one church and age 12 at another church a few miles away?
Some credocommunionists say the issue was dealt with by the Reformers and the case is closed. Others say the exegesis (particularly of 1 Corinthians 11) offered by paedocommunionists is novel. Which is it? If the exegesis is novel, then it was NOT dealt with in the 16th century.
Further, even if the paedocommunion exegesis of first Corinthians 11 is wrong, it does not necessarily mean that children should be excluded. Paedocommunion is consistent with principles of Reformed ecclesiology and covenant theology. Further, we don’t apply all biblical commands in the same way to all age groups (e.g., 2 Thessalonians 3:10).
I am getting close to preaching on David and Goliath from 1 Samuel 17. Someone asked me if I would treat the passage like Matt Chandler who famously screamed, “You’re not David!” to his congregation.
Now, I fully agree that Jesus is the ultimate hero of the Bible and therefore of our own personal stories. You are not the hero of your own life — Jesus is. Jesus is the ultimate slayer of giants — especially the giants of sin, death, and Satan. That’s central to the gospel.
But Chandler’s “Don’t be a David” tirade is still wrong. His message is an effeminate truncating of Scripture. It’s the kind of preaching that emasuclates men and make Christians all too passive. Whatever problems the church has today, people trying too hard to “be David” and do daring, bold things for God is hardly one of them.
Here’s the truth: Because you are in union with Christ, the Greater David, you most certainly are called to be David — to exercise Davidic courage and David-like faith in doing what God calls you to do. Chandler’s style of antinominan preaching makes Christians weak when we should be strong. It makes Christians passive when we need to be assertive and active. It’s a feminized and pathetic version of the faith (and to see the implications of this, all one has to do is look at how Chandler has caved in to wokeness, reverse racism, etc.).
My advice: “Don’t be a Matt Chandler!” In other words, don’t be an effeminate coward.
In response to some feedback on my Trump article: It’s fine to be repulsed by Trump — so long as you are even more repulsed by that pervert who showered with his daughter, aka, Joe Biden.
Look, neither one of these men are paragon of truth or morality. But it is obvious that Biden is worse for the country. We have experienced life under both regimes. Trump’s presidency (up until COVID derailed it) was better for America than Biden’s time in the oval office. I’m not blind to Trump’s faults. I just think he’s clearly the less bad choice. Voting for Trump is an act of self-defense.
I fully agree that some people make an idol of Trump (though this seems to be pretty characteristic of American politics in general — a lot of Americans for generations have had all too much enthusiasm for their preferred candidate and too much emotionally invested in political issues/outcomes).
But here’s something interesting I’ve noticed: If Trump-olatry is real, anti-Trump-olatry is just as real. And if I had to say, based on what I’ve seen, I think there are more anti-Trump-olaters than Trump-olaters. In other words more people will be devastated by a Trump win than an Biden win. (Here’s a thought experiment: If Trump loses, are city-destroying riots likely to follow? What if Biden loses? I’m pretty sure we all know which side will be more dangerous in the event of defeat.)
I have seen many professing Christians express great concern over Trump and the fact that most evangelicals will end up voting for him again. It seems to me there are far more people who are too threatened by a Trump victory than a Trump defeat. In other words, the greatest form of political idolatry I see in our culture at this moment is not pro-Trumpism but anti-Trumpism, not Trump-olatry, but fear of Trump winning. It is not the Trumpers but anti-Trumpers who seem most obsessed with politics at this point.
No Christian should be overly invested in the outcome of this election. Jesus is King. He will do as he sees fit. Maybe he will use one of these men to judge us more than he has already. May he will give us reprieve from what we deserve. But either way, Jesus will still be King and the work we have to do in reforming and discipling our culture won’t change much.
An addendum: Just as I see more people speaking vociferously against Trump than enthusiastically in support of him, I see something similar happen with the current discussions of masculinity. I see men post things like, “Only insecure men talk about masculinity.” But these men — who think we should be reticent to discuss masculinity — end up talking about masculinity more than just about anyone. Of course, they are talking about masculinity by negation — they don’t have much of anything positive or constructive to say to men about their masculinity. But they can’t stop talking about how we shouldn’t be talking about masculinity. If you really think we should not talk about masculinity (which sounds like a dumb rule to me), my suggestion is just don’t talk about it all. The real insecurity about masculinity, from what I can tell, comes those men who don’t want us talking about it.
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