Showing posts with label open letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label open letters. Show all posts

05 August 2015

An Open Letter to America

by F.X. Turk

My Dear Fellow Citizens;

The vast majority of you have never heard of me, and for that all of us should be really happy.  You don't want someone like me to be famous, and I don't want someone like me to be famous.  But I'm worried about us, and I wanted to tell you why, and see if there is anything you think we might be able to do about it.

Some people would be worried that we have fights among ourselves, but in my view a free society is healthy if real disagreements can be voiced and engaged, and then people can honestly decide for themselves what it is they ought to think about things.  So for example, I think people ought to talk about racial animosity and any appearance of actual racism, and they ought to come to some kind of honest conclusion about what they find out.  I think people ought to talk about gun ownership, and the presence of guns in a society, and after they have talked about it, they should come to some kind of honest conclusion about the extent to which guns have a place in a society.  I think most importantly religion should be a topic of conversation, and people should come to an honest conclusion about the maker and sustainer of all things.  And when we have come to any such conclusion, if new facts or a new point of view presents itself, we ought to let it stand or fall based on what we already know -- it ought to be able to change our minds if it has that kind of weight, and it ought to be worked through if it does not.

Honest disagreement is healthy, and I think we ought to sort of welcome it.  In most businesses that make things these days, there is plenty of healthy disagreement (the current buzzword for it is "continuous improvement"), and the outcome is most often that things get made faster, or cheaper, or better, or all of the above.

But that's the rub, isn't it?  "Honest" disagreement.  One of the things I think we lack as a society is the ability to honestly disagree.  Before I explain "why," I think I owe you some kind of explanation of "what" I am talking about.

"Honesty," according to m-w.com, is "fairness and straightforwardness of conduct; adherence to the facts."  In spite of living in a world where we can measure everything to 3 decimal places, and the content of collected human knowledge in print doubles every year (according to Forbes in 2013), one of the things which has seemed to vanish in public conversation is a reliance on facts rather than opinions or misinformation.  Climate Change is one of those things. One side is adamant that in the 4-6 billion years of geologic time, no other circumstances have created warmer temperatures than we have today; the other side finds itself stunned by the several leaps it takes to come to that conclusion, and when they ask some rudimentary question they get accused of being enemies of the planet.  What we wind up with is assertions vs. assertions, and neither side is willing to admit the other side's assertions have merit.  It's not so much a conversation or even "science" in the historical sense, but rather a contentious fight which has no hope to be resolved.

"Honesty" in that case would admit that both sides still have homework to do, and that the best answer will be reached when both sides have agreed to some basic premises about things like how climate is established, and whether or not its possible to say that the Earth can meaningfully have an average surface temperature when it runs from the extremes of −128.6 °F (1983, Antarctica) and +134 °F (1913, Death Valley).  "Honesty" means that we don't get married to solutions until we understand the problems, which is what is really happening in the world insofar as we can discern it.  It also means we don't think too much of our own observations because let's face it: even the most jaded among us have not seen everything.

Which brings me to the reason I wanted to talk about honest disagreement: the practice of transferring fetal tissue to third parties by Planned Parenthood, as it has been presented by the Center for Medical Progress in its recent videos.  One of the complaints about these videos has been that they are "highly edited;" another is that if we looked at any secret video of surgical procedures they would be equally gross; another is that whatever this is they have recorded and reported, this is perfectly legal under 42 U.S.C. (2010), Title 42, CHAPTER 6A, SUBCHAPTER II, Part H, Sec. 274e, so what is all the fuss about, really?

Working in reverse order, I think the last complaint is the one which is the least-tenable.  The existence of every law on the books today, if we are to believe the recent rulings by the Supreme Court, is not a static fact.  Indeed, the question of the day seems to be, "ought that really to be legal? or illegal?"  If the very definition of marriage -- which has been uncontested in the history of Western Civilization -- is subject to review and subject to change because we discover a moral patch cut from material never before dreamed of by men over the way it works today, then let me suggest to you that every law is, at least, subject to change.  Let me put it to you that if 42 U.S.C. (2010), Title 42, CHAPTER 6A, SUBCHAPTER II, Part H, Sec. 274e is the law today (and it is), that doesn't settle the question of whether or not it is actually what the law ought to be.  Even if what we have seen in the videos so far (at this writing, 5 have been released) is entirely legal today, after seeing the practical outworking of that law are we really not entitled to ask the question, "is that really what we meant when we codified this?"

The question is a legitimate question.  If this is legal, should it be?  If other questions arise after that -- like, "if we make this illegal, how do we ensure that Planned Parenthood can continue to save women's lives, since they say they do that every day?" -- let's look for an answer which corrects the fault of the law and does not create a consequence which puts the sick and the downtrodden at risk.  I'll bet that people smart enough to conduct experiments on fetal tissue which create measurable medical results that will actually save lives are smart enough to come up with a business plan that can preserve Planned Parenthood from bankruptcy without these transfers.

Because that is what is at stake here, yes? It is patently barbaric to sell the parts of dead people, and more so to be selling the parts of babies who were killed, by and large, because other birth control methods failed.  If @PPFA is not making any money on these transactions, they ought to be able to survive without them.  Let's agree that the main question really isn't whether @PPFA is breaking 42 U.S.C. (2010), Title 42, CHAPTER 6A, SUBCHAPTER II, Part H, Sec. 274e, but whether or not the entire idea of this sort of transaction isn't a close cousin to cannibalism and chattel slavery.

In thinking through this question, it has already been presented by some advocates (most notably: USAToday and the New York Times) that the problem here is really that someone who is not a doctor who watches these videos is simply grossed out by the skin and blood, and also by the sort of "shop talk" employed when discussing these things by those who do them.  The reply goes something like this: if you listened to a heart surgeon talk about angioplasty or a brain surgeon talk about minimally invasive endonasal endoscopic surgery and then watched a video of them doing it, it would also probably gross you out.  That doesn't make what they are doing immoral in any way.

There's something rather stoic and self-denigrating in that answer, right?  It sounds like the person is saying, "of course I was grossed out by that video.  I would be grossed out to watch a video of child birth also, but I'm not trying to make that illegal."  The contrast, of course, is that when child birth occurs, we are left with a baby who is a person and has a voice.  We are left with someone who is all need and no means, and (in most cases) needs all the love her parents can muster.  With what we have seen in these videos -- and I'm going to refrain from describing these things to seek to give the other side the optimal benefit of the doubt -- it is literally the opposite of child birth, and the opposite of motherly and fatherly love.  The problem turns out to be that the only voice these boys and girls and twins have is not a parent's voice, but one which is clearly trying to get a good price for what is left since there is no crying.

I think the people presenting the "moral gross out" argument understand what they are feeling when they watch these videos.  I think they simply do not understand why they are feeling it.  It is as if they cannot imagine that what they have witnessed in these videos can happen in the real world, and that what must have really happened had to be something far more clinical, and sterile, and therapeutic.  Doctors are not monsters, after all, and who would, in their right mind, want to replicate the mistakes of those in the past we know for sure were moral villains who used people as medical samples rather than as patients and fellows in the image of God the same way we are?

They are doctors, after all, and they must know what is best.

This is why I think the first objection I listed is given, and why people cling to it.  We respect doctors.  When we think of science making life better, most of us don't think of GE engineers or NASA scientists: we think of our family physicians, and our specialists, and nurses and support staff they have who treat us with care and respect even when we have, for the last 5 years, needed to lose 10 lbs to stay healthy and we have failed.  They stick with us, and we trust them to give us medicine for ourselves and our children.  So to say in defense of Doctors, "we need to take the videos with a grain of salt because they are edited," sounds to the one saying it and the one who hears it like a defense of family medicine and general practice.  This is America, and Doctors in America are not in it for the money.  Certainly Doctors who are in it for women's reproductive health cannot be in it for the money -- they are in it for the sake of making sure the next generation has wives and mothers who are happy, healthy, and not oppressed by children they did not plan for.

Yet somehow the reason for all of these arguments is frankly that they must not be "defunded."  Think about that for a second, because the point of the argument gets really clear here.  The argument is that somehow, if after reviewing these videos, we find that what was done was illegal (or ought to be), and it is full of a moral offense which is unspeakable, and this was not amplified by clever editing, what we should not do is prevent women from getting mammograms and pap smears.

Let me say this plainly: I'm not against those because I have a wife and a daughter and I'm not an anti-science idiot.  I didn't see any mammograms or pap smears in those videos, and will stipulate they are for the best.  After the long list of concessions one can make (as I have, above) to the theoretical soundness of those other objections, to find ourselves here reduced to insulting misdirections is ... well, I'll say it since that's the reason I started this open letter: it's dishonest to change the subject.

The argument from the side which is morally vexed over these videos is this: "If Planned Parenthood conducts abortions and then sells the parts of the babies destroyed for money, our government should not subsidize @PPFA."  And because other organizations can and do all the other things @PPFA says its does without making abortions and selling baby parts, we think the funding should go elsewhere.  We are not against other diagnostic procedures; we are not against science or medicine or women.  We are rather offended that someone calls the way they extract a baby from the womb for the sake of reclaiming its parts for sale a "less crunchy technique."

We are in favor, as it turns out, of an honest discussion about what is happening at Planned Parenthood and at the companies and schools which are buying things from Planned Parenthood.   We may ask whether or not the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services publishes the Nuremberg Code for an ethical reason, or if it is merely part of the history of medicine. And in an honest discussion, both sides need to be able to say in good faith, "there are things we agree on, and there are limits to what our side understands.  If you will also admit these things, let's find out whether we can come to a consensus about how to proceed."  I suspect we disagree on a lot less than either side would reflexively admit if we start with the premise that we ourselves are going to behave honestly about the facts, and you should, too.

With that, I am going to duck back into obscurity and see if there are any takers for an honest discussion about whether or not the product of an abortion -- which, if we believe those who are doing them, are merely tissue, never wanted, always dangerous, and rarely viable -- turns out to be the parts of an unborn baby, and if those parts should ever have a cash value no matter how they were obtained.  I think that discussion will be far more profitable than accusing people like me of wanting to enslave and oppress women on the same day he is taking his wife to her annual exams.

Think about it, and please get back to me.  I'm interested in what comes next from honest people, and I still believe that America is full of honest people.








15 January 2014

An Open Letter to T4G

by Frank Turk

To my Dear Friends in Christ at T4G.org;

I waited and waited, but
nobody would join me for coffee
Everyone has an idiom in which his voice is most clearly heard, and unfortunately for all of us, mine is "Hitler Reacts" videos.

Just kidding -- mine is obviously the Open Letter.  I have taken a lot of flack from all sorts of people over the years for having the audacity to use a blog like this to write letters like that.  It has even made some wonder whether or not the Open Letter is a dead medium, a dead form.  Personally I love to write them because it gives both me and the readers of this blog the sense that we are actually speaking to certain people and not merely about them.  Moreover, I think I have a long record of using both gentleness and reverence in them (with a handful of exceptions that, frankly, prove the rule), so I am taking a break from my hiatus to write one to you.  I hope it finds you well, and in good spirits.

We're closing in on the early bird registration deadline (well: it's a month off), and it has caused my friends and I to have off-line chats about whether we are going.  I'm sure that's a common discussion happening right now as everyone tries to decide whether or not they have $1000 (registration, room & board, travel) to spend a week with 5000 (7500?  How many?) brothers and sisters in Christ.  I have gone in the past, so for the record I'm not casting any shade on those who will chose to do so this year.  (For those reading: if you choose to go this year, God bless you; may it bless you greatly; may it make you better disciples and better body parts in your local church [whichever part you may be]).  But, I'm not going this year.

Someone suggested I should have expected an invitation since other bloggers have been invited and I am an allegedly-famous blogger.  I think that's absurd on the face of it, to be honest: the "bloggers" invited to this event are actually proteges of the fellows instrumental in creating T4G, and I am not that; I'm not from SBTS, or CHBC, or from what used to be the Sovereign Grace network of churches, or a Presbyterian.  Given my close relationship to Phil Johnson, both public and private, it would seem more likely to see me invited to something GTY/GCC put on -- but Phil and I have discussed that, and I have no interest in being that guy.  And more to the point, I really am on hiatus from all things blog-related in spite of evidence to the contrary.

Maybe what those asking me that question were really asking me is this: since T4G is now a decade old, is it time for you to freshen up the mix?  For example, when we listen to the recording of Band of Bloggers last time, how fresh was that?  Was it really worth the price of admission -- even factoring in the Chick-fil-A and the free books?  Once we get past aggregating other people's work, and being famous for assisting better writers with getting their works into print, what are we seeing at BoB -- and why?  Would it help to include someone from outside the echo chamber those fellows represent to see what else could be helpful?

Personally, and to be as clear as possible, I have nothing to add that would freshen up that mix.  My currently-jaded perspective on how Christian celebrity works, and whether or not it's legitimate to cultivate such a thing, would not make that hour of discussion more helpful -- because I am self-aware enough to know that I am, currently, very jaded on that subject.  I am very weary and squint-eyed from disappointment in the public face of our faith.  I'm not yet 50 (but almost), and I would sound like a one-eyed centenarian misanthrope if you put me next to Colin Hansen and asked me anything about which both he and I could comment.  That would not be worth bringing me there to perform, or be worth anybody's money to pay and see.

But that question is still worth considering: what could refresh T4G and it's ancillary services?  What would revive, in the intellectual, catechetical or phenomenological senses, the vibe at T4G?  Maybe if you brought in that fabled faithful pastor who has been at the same church for 4 or 5 decades ...?

I can remember the first time I went, which was the second time it ran.  We were not filling the YUM Center yet but were still in the big room at the Convention Center in Louisville (I think it might have been the room the bookstore is in now, but that may be a faulty memory of it). You could hear the other men singing (and yes ladies: sorry, it was something like 99.9% men) in a way that (if you will forgive me for saying it) sounded like church.  It sounded like we were there together, and not merely there in attendance.  I actually accidentally one morning walked into the conference center next to CJ -- though I am sure he didn't know me from Adam, and I didn't realize it was him until we reached the end of the skyway.  It still had the sense, as you still propose it to be, of being a conversation among friends.

It's not really that anymore, is it?

Maybe it is.  Maybe that's what actually causes some of the comments like the ones sent to me about who gets invited and who doesn't: real friendly relationships can cause those on the outside of them to feel somehow left out.  People feel like maybe they have something that belongs with such a thing as T4G, and when T4G ignores it (intentionally or accidentally; and sometimes "intentionally" can even mean "because there's no more room for stuff here" rather than something more tawdry like "not invented here") it seems like a sleight because other people and other "stuff" get included when others did not.  But that's what happens when people or things get famous: fans mistake fandom for friendship, and when it turns out that Mark Dever really has no idea who I am or whatever, it seems like a slight when it's not anything like that.

Yet when we think about it that way, the riddle of what T4G has become still doesn't get puzzled out. It actually gets harder to unpack because we're really not talking about church here anymore, are we?  We're not talking about real human relationships but the experience. We're talking about something that looks and acts more like the other events that fill the YUM Center.  I mean: it costs $1000 to go to T4G if you live right.  It could cost one $2500 easily by simply picking different meal options and hotels.  To the average pastor, $1000 is more than a week's salary -- in some cases, it's more than two.  It stops being a conversation between friends when the first checkpoint of self-selection into the conversation is which quintile of income can afford to join in, doesn't it?

Now, look: this is not an attempt to heap scorn on you fellows for price or venue or any of that.  I think that the audio files from T4G are worth the price of a decent double album (note: I just dated all of us since most of the young fellers reading this have never seen the glory of Pink Floyd's The Wall in real vinyl in real dust jackets), and I have honestly been edified by every T4G since its inception.  The words of the message are clear every time.  I am worried that maybe there is something else being said by the medium which needs to be worked out more completely than by a sidebar panel discussion.  One speaker self-exonerating himself and the panel by saying his wife keeps him honest and there are no superstars in his household is not a solution to this conundrum.

So as people think about attending your event, and follow it on Twitter, and look forward to the able-bodied messages and the impressive line-up of powerful speakers both new and time-tested, I'm asking you to consider what you have become -- which is somehow both more and less than a conversation among friends.  You have become influential across denominational lines, and somehow have also lost the physical appearance of a local church.  And in doing these things, you are shaping others in ways that are probably unintended -- and as with all unintended consequences, it is the father of all manner of children.

Please be good fathers to the children you have made here.  Be good servants of Christ, because I know your faith in Him is both real and good, and your hope for His final victory is the same as mine, and the only real reason we should care about what we are doing personally, both privately and publicly.  He's our savior, our king, and also our judge.  Let's all be judged worthy by Him when we at last see his face.

In His name, and for His sake, I thank you for your time and attention.







07 September 2013

You say Hiatus, I say ...

by Frank Turk

Oh for crying out loud ...

So I announce my hiatus after planning it since June of this year, unplug for ONE LOUSY WEEK in which I just barely don't blog, and suddenly a 3-year-old post becomes someone's object of interest.

You know: if it was my post on leaving or staying with your local church, or one of the many posts of daGifts, or one of the posts about politics, I honestly had already prepared myself to say, with no qualifiers, "so what?"  In fact, of the roughly-500 posts I have made here over the years, there is really only one or two I would even bother with at this point if they received any sort of blow-back -- mostly because there's such a thing as too little, too late.



Ahem.

I will not tell you what the other blast-from-the past which would draw me out of Hiatus would be (because: hiatus) but the one you know that would be irresistible to me would be the one post which still draws 2% of the traffic all-time to this blog.  I mean: last week, 150 people read that post, 3-and-a-half years after it was relevant.

Right?  Who can resist it?

Well, apparently, Matthew Grant McDaniel is one of the 150 -- or maybe one of the tens of thousands of views -- that post has received in the last 3 years because he has penned what I would call the most-comprehensive response to that post since its original run in 2010.  It certainly beats the pants off this response:


Right?  And I'm the bad guy.  I'm the body part of disgraceful use.  I'm the one who needs to justify his language, approach, heart, mind, soul, and lack of coffee shop invitations.

{sigh}

Let's take a deep breath here before we go on.  Because the truth is that Matthew has really invested sincere and serious work in trying to reply to my original post, and he deserves some credit for that.

I congratulate Matthew for investing a lot of time in his piece.  It wasn't tossed-off, and at the very least: it does a fair job of representing Derek Webb as thoroughly as possible.  The problem, of course, is that he's responding to me and not Derek.  To that end, a fair question is whether or not he represents me with any degree of fairness.  I mean: let's put our cards on the table.  Back in 2010, I delivered about 5000 words and 11 pages (single-spaced; it would take 40 minutes to read it out-loud) on this subject (not including the digital ink spilled in the comments).  In that, that post is not hardly a tirade of name-calling and taunts: except for the one Counting Crows allusion, there is no snark or name-calling or any sort of real incivility.  Almost all of it focused on the interview in question and the three main topics I thought, at that time, needed attention -- the Gospel, the Church, and the Artist.  If he's writing an open letter to me in response to that, you would think that he would seek to cover that ground the way he might imagine I should cover the ground with Derek Webb..

But most of what Matthew did here is dedicated to adding new items from Derek not in evidence when I wrote the original post.  So it seems to me that his response confuses anachronism with refutation.  That is: he doesn't see that the many new pieces of evidence he is presenting were not historically in evidence when I wrote my open letter.

If I was really committed more to my hiatus than to other things, I'd leave it at that.  Are there new things in the mix regarding Derek Webb?  Sure -- I grant it with no qualifications.  Done.  What that has to do with whether or not my critique of that interview is useful or even civil is not clear.  Thank you; good night.



But here's the thing: I think Matthew wants me to engage Derek now, 3 years later, on his next evolutionary step.  He wants me to engage this video, for example:



A video in which Derek confuses how we "feel" about an issue of morality with whether or not the church has an obligation both to God's Law and God's Gospel -- what Derek sort of slyly refers to here as the "whole counsel of God".  You know: I watch that video, and the longer I watch it the more I hope Derek will say something about the way the Law ought to point us to the Gospel, and what I find instead is that Derek says is (in effect), "I don't want to hear any Law because I don't think I hear enough Gospel (through the media from the Church on this one subject)."

Is Derek really that ignorant or naive about sin in general?  Does he really think being fat is not socially stigmatized?  Does he really think that someone is a body part of disgraceful use because he confronts and holds accountable his friend who is a liar, a glutton, is covetous, a thief, an adulterer -- or worse by far, an idolater, a God-hater, a person who refuses to accept as holy what God holds as holy?

I mean: he is rather sassy about the alleged "whole counsel of God," but where does it recommend in the Bible that we ignore each others' sins because we have sins?  Don't we have James 5 and Proverbs 17 and Heb 10 which say exactly the opposite?  Conversely: I'd be willing to review how he sees the "whole counsel of God" (since he brings it up) to visit the question myself of what my responsibility is as a friend, a husband, and father and a brother in Christ to visit the sins of those who are in my life.  But what I'm not really willing to do is to simply let earnest and passionate talk overcome joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control and most of all: love. Because love is not merely letting someone walk their own way until they fall down a hole: it is rather something else when someone is walking toward the hole.

Look: I am actually willing to stipulate a lot about Derek, as I was back in 2010.  For example, I said this back then explicitly:
I have to grant you something: you are right about the problem the church has in addressing the "gay" issue. I blogged about that a few years ago myself, refer to that post frequently as the topic comes up and further notes are required, and I commend that to you for context of my note to you today.
I also said this back in 2010:
I know someplace, somehow, you "get" [the Gospel]: the Son of Man was not sent to be served, but to serve, and to lay down his life as a ransom for many. He came to suffer much at the hands of the leaders of Israel and to be put to death. And he did this not as a moral example but as a sacrifice -- as the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
My complaint about this interview was never the one I would make to Rob Bell or Joel Osteen or some of the greater miscreants in the sociologically-Christian English-speaking world.  My complaint is that one fellow who definitely knows what the Gospel is somehow doesn't deliver it to sinners when he's face-to-face with a sinner talking about sin to an audience of sinners -- to the extent that somehow we are merely about the broad declaration that we "pre-emptively love" rather than pointing out what we lack, our transgression, in the place it really occupies between us and God.

So when that is reductively re-purposed as "Frank asks Derek to define the Gospel," when in fact my question is, "where is the Gospel in this interview when it matters most?" I think the number of uses we can find for Matthew's defense and rejoinder are limited.

I can credit Derek, for example (and as cited in Matthew's blog post), for engaging the execrable Rachel Held Evans and telling her plainly that her views are not Gospel at all -- and that the Gospel must be God-centered, not man-dependent.  I would stipulate Derek's version of the "Jesus + Nothing = Everything" equation as far as it goes.  I would stipulate all of Derek's on-going flirtations with antinomianism as being Gospel-minded and an earnest (if strange and ambiguous) attempt to be like Paul who was (falsely) accused of the same thing.

What I simply can't do is grant that Derek's recipe for the whole pie is helpful either to the church at large, or to sinners who need the Gospel.  That concern points out my other two concerns -- which are Derek's uses for the church, and Derek's view of himself as an artist.

But here's the real rub: Derek made a statement to Stedman that he's willing to sit down with anyone, any time, to hash out stuff like this.  But in response to the original blog post, I have not received one word from anyone within the Kevin-Bacon-6-degrees between myself and Derek about my standing invitation to work this out face to face, on the record, in a way that Derek can explain his problems with my approach and his innocence on all counts.

Let's put it back on the table: I have Delta Sky miles, and some fun money, and a few vacation days open as discretionary time.  My wife is fantastically-generous with me when I ask nice. I think that, rather than letting anyone else talk past either of us, I'm offering at least 60 minutes at a convenient site for Derek, with a neutral moderator (I'd settle for a moderator of Derek's choosing only to stand in as host and referee to keep the conversation balanced), in order to talk about this on the record.  There are no "gotcha" questions as Matthew hypothesizes.  There are only two necessary things: a real urgent belief that this topic is critical for the people of God and for our lost neighbors, and a sincere and firm belief that the Gospel is the solution.

That's it: that's all.  The only other thing that can break into my hiatus would be Derek's willingness to have a 60-minute sit-down to resolve our differences.








15 May 2013

Open Letter to Mark Driscoll (2013)

by Frank Turk

Dear Pastor Mark --

I know you don't read any of the little blogs, or people who are trying to make their own tribe, but others do, and I think it's worth writing a brief open letter to you this week based on your epic video from this weekend:



I think it's fantastic that you can walk away from the Gospel Coalition, and hand over the reigns to Acts29, and with no muss and no fuss start your own tribe.  It's proof that you have something which most of us don't have.  I'm sure there's a Greek word for it, but unfortunately I don't speak Greek.

Someone with more time on their hands might want to go through this 21-minute monologue and find all the ingrown hairs and blemishes, but sadly: I'm on a tight schedule this week.  I'm writing today about the funniest parts of this video.  In your attempts here to get tribes to talk to each other, you have somehow done two things so well that they deserve a mention.

The first is this: you are fantastic at making much of yourself.  You are the master of the humblebrag now that the meme is dead and the ship has sailed.  Like a self-aware version of Ari Gold from Entourage, you drop all the names you know to demonstrate your position -- but dutifully, you're not like any of them.  T.D. Jakes didn't hardly even know you when he met you, for pete's sake.  And thankfully: you're nothing like the homeschooled fundies who can't make a tribe for themselves, who act drunk even though they would never touch the stuff.  You're a tribal leader.

If anyone knows how to salvage his own reputation from the doctrinal and moral pratfalls and frankly-insulting egoisms for which you are actually well-known, it's you -- and it's funny to watch you do it as you get older and your audience stays the same age.

The other funny thing you do so well is, if I can be so bold, the fifth attribute of a tribal leader: you're the world-champion enumerator of enemies.  You brandish the keen condescending tongue of someone high-school famous who knows that his popularity is only durable as long as he can demonstrate there are others who are uncool, infamous, unacceptable and undefended.  Rarely has this been more evident than in this 21 minutes of video.  You elevate yourself by making anyone who is like you were 10 or 15 years ago into a completely-unacceptable hayseed.

The truly-spectacular part, though, is how you wrap both of these objectives into one key omission in the schedule for this conference: in an allegedly-open discussion between tribes, you have simply overlooked asking anyone who would actually challenge you, anyone who disagrees with you in a substantive way.

Now, I get it: a fundie homeschooler presbyterian who is cessationist and dogmatically concerned about the fundamental truths of the faith -- so much so that they draw necessary conclusions about those items which cause them to rule out some tribes as unacceptable or actually unChristian -- is not a successful, fruitful tribal leader in your view of it.  They are no Billy Graham or Francis Shaeffer.
But: the point of your omission is very clear: you personally have nothing to learn from someone like that.  You would never let someone like that (whom you labelled "mental" in this video, and accused of being ignorant in almost the same breath "thanks to the cold medicine") influence the people who still come out to see your road show.  Like a very amusing parody of Syndrome from the Incredibles, you list the shortcomings of all your past heroes and all your past fans who have, frankly, found you lacking and then you say, in effect: "You're weak! and I've outgrown you."

Now: so what?  So what if you're a Punch-like parody of a pastor?  Can we all just get the joke and move on to the next big thing?

In my view of it, explaining the joke ruins it, so my apologies for that.  Sorry to spoil it for you.  But here's the thing: I can't just list my grievance and walk away.  To be a helpful critic, I need also to offer you a remedy or a better example.  That's what the popular kids say, anyway, so here's my thought about what you could do about it.

1. You could start talking to people who have pointed out your mistakes -- rather than talking about them.

Now, I realize that there are some people who are actually not worth talking to: people who have unreasonable ways of talking about you; people who have unreasonable expectations about how to resolve the problems (you know: turn yourself in to the police for your crimes against humanity); people who, frankly, don't understand what they are talking about; etc.

You don't have to talk to those people.  You could talk to a Carl Trueman, or a Phil Johnson, or any number of Acts29 guys who are regretful that you really aren't who they thought you were.  Jonathan Merritt seems to get you in a pretty succinct way - you could try him.  You know: in the same way you brought tribes together in this event last weekend.  Publicly, and as if you respected them.

That requires actual humility and actual repentance and actual wisdom, so decide for yourself if that's something you want to engage in.  Ask yourself, "will that be good for me?"

2. You could reconsider your utterly-superficial notion of being a pastor

Let's face it: this one may get categorized by you as "unreasonable expectations" because in your eyes, you were audibly called by God to be mightily used.  Who is anyone to accuse the Lord's anointed, after all?  But: the crazy thing in the New Testament (the part where Acts 29 would be if it were a real chapter in the book) is the categorical absence of offices like the one you hold.  The guys to whom the Lord actually did audibly speak all wind up travelling the world -- in chains, to their death.  The others wind up staying in local churches -- and a lot of them wind up dying for the faith.  Timothy, for example, who you might say was prophesied over as having the gift of an evangelist, was stoned to death in Ephesus.

You might consider yourself a "Bishop," I guess, but as it turns out in history (the part where the actual evidence is, not the part where you imagine the evidence is for receiving the gift of Spiritual Skinemax) the guys who were like the kind of Bishop you are were the guys fellows like Francis of Assisi were very worried about -- because those fellows were more concerned about influence and power than they were about Christ and his Church. They only associated with the rich and famous, and they didn't like it when anyone else pointed that out.

What you could do is take all your tweets about how much you "love your job" and rather than think a book or a conference is what saves marriages and souls, go back to the Bible and remember: what kind of man does it takes to shepherd a local church? What kind of life it is to lead a local church? You could turn back to that.  Live that life, and the rest, I think, would take care of itself.  Ask yourself, "will that be good for the people God has given to me?"

3. You could actually repent of your obsession with being famous and influential.

That's a fairly loaded suggestion from a fellow like me who, let's face it, is a blogger with any kind of an audience -- and that audience due entirely to the men who have allowed me to be their friends.  But here's what I think: if you took 2 years off from the circuit and the book-writing and spent it instead on unpacking your own need for speed at the expense of other people, I'll bet when you returned to the big stage 24 months and one day later you'd have something very interesting to say to the rest of us.

Something along the lines of, "I have learned how to abound, and how to be abased."  Something most people could relate to in the normal Christian life -- in every culture, not just affluent Washington and Chicago.  You could ask yourself, "Am I concerned about the normal Christian life of real people?" And with that question answered, do that -- rather than trying to do what Oprah and Rob Bell have done and are doing to the Christian faith.

Those things said, if this note reaches you, thanks for the laughs.  I hope this finds you in good humor, good spirits, good health, and good conscience.  As a fellow father and husband, I wish the best to your family, the blessings of God upon them, and the wisdom and humility of Jesus to you as their shepherd and provider.

And what I really wish, with all sincerity and all real good will, is that you will repent for the sake of your own soul, and the sake of those who follow you.








26 March 2013

Oh dear: open letter edition

by Dan Phillips

Looks like someone monetized Frank's brainchild.
That's what you get for not copyrighting.

(Background headwaters)

At no extra charge, a later Tweet:

(Added background)

Dan Phillips's signature


04 March 2013

Open Letter to Dr. Steve McSwain

by Frank Turk

UPDATED: Dr. McSwain has e-miled me and has expressed interest in having a discussion about his essay and my response to it.  If we can work out the details, you can find the link to the discussion in this space.



SECOND UPDATE: Dr. McSwain has opted out of accepting the invitation, at least as he has communicated to me via e-mail.  Perhaps our friends at HuffPo Live will have a better outcome.

Dear Dr. McSwain --

First, let me say this about your recent article at HuffPo: it's more than a little disingenuous to tweet this after publishing that essay:

My friend Sarah called you out on this point already, but here's the thing: there's no edit to your piece afterward, or a footnote to point out that you have used tactics you now would abhor from those who would respond to you.  But of course, to make sure the gate is closed on the other side of the conversation, you make this apology and note that replying in kind would be "mean-spirited".

The worse problem here, really, is that you should know better than this.  You market yourself as "a trusted guide, transformational leader, and a spiritual teacher," but without any doubt your only action in this essay is to poison the well against Christians with whom you disagree.  Well, that's the tactic of everyone who has tried to speak out agains the Christian church since the days of Paul and of Jesus, so at least you're in an trade which has a long and storied past.

At any rate, if you're going to write something as short and shoddy as that piece and ignore current academic works which refute your statements (Jesus and the Eyewitnesses by Bauckham comes to mind; The Erosion of Inerrancy in Evangelicalism by Beale is another; Jesus Outside the New Testament by Van Voorst is lesser-known but compelling; the classic King James Only Controversy by James White ought to be on your reading list this year since you have obviously never encountered  decent history of the text we receive for the modern English Bible; Did the Resurrection Happen by Flew and Habermas would be the last one for you simply because it shows that non-Christians don't have to be impenetrably ignorant of what conservative [or even historically-traditional] Christians believe), me spending my time refuting it on a blog isn't going to change your mind.  It's probably not even going to get you to revise your flippant complaints into something a little more circumspect.

But I do have a great idea.

It turns out I am also a contributor to HuffPo -- over at HuffPoLive.  I'm one of the conservative evangelicals they call on from time to time to represent when the question of what the man-in-the-street conservative evangelical believes and would say to their adversaries in other camps.  My contact over there is Shelley Thomas, and I think that you and I discussing this with a HuffPo moderator keeping the conversation between the ditches would be educational for your readers, to say the least.

Here's all I ask: that our exchange have the smallest appearance of balance.  That is: you ask a question; I'll answer it; then I can ask a question; you have to answer it.  Questions need to be brief (~150 words, about 1 minute) and answers need to be cogent without filibustering or grandstanding (~500 words, about 4 minutes).  We could do 5 exchanges, or 10 if HuffPoLive could stand a segment that long.  The point for me would not be to convince you of anything -- my goal would be to compare your caricatures of conservative Christian faith with the actual Christian faith held literally by hundreds of millions of people for almost 2000 years.

What I expect is that you'll ignore this request because you have nothing to gain from it.  However, you might be a better man than my assessment of you, and you might find this opportunity to demonstrate what you were talking about this weekend a great way to make your point to your targets in conservative Christianity.  If you are, I look forward to hearing from either you or Shelley at your convenience.

Comments are closed.  You can find me at frank@iturk.com, or on twitter @frank_turk.







10 August 2012

Moral Imperatives

by Frank Turk

As a lead, Friday is usually "Best of Phil" day, and I have changed it up on you this week because someone on the internet is wrong, and of course my office is holding all my calls until the matter is resolved.  "Best of Phil" will return next week.   BTW, if you are an able-bodied Blogger user and you wanted to join the unpaid and over-worked TeamPyro staff for a thankless job of reviewing the Phil Johnson Archives to provide us with a weekly "Best of" post using an anonymous account and receive no recognition for it, please contact me at frank@iturk.com.

SERIOUSLY.

Also:
[1] Adult theme.  Homeschool families are warned and should act appropriately
[2] Pack a lunch.  This goes way of the 1200-word guideline for posting here.  Again.


I was alerted to this story earlier this week by a concerned reader, and it's one of those stories where all manner of addled thinking comes to the surface from everyone on the spectrum of lifestyle blogging -- from the secular liberals and conservatives to the panoply of Christian bloggers in the weird polygon of ideas bounded by points produced by mixing the adjectives "conservative," "liberal," "radical," "progressive," "traditional," "biblical," and "missional," with the proper noun "Christian."

Let's start here: praising or condemning any private letter without considering context or source is, I think, probably of limited value.  Most people don't write private letters with any thought that they will be shared publicly -- let alone shared on a global platform -- and there ought to be some kind of  filter we have in place to read anything written in that mode.

The other thing we ought to put in place before discussing this is a very simple question: "What must a parent do when his child is trapping himself in a mistake (willful or otherwise)?"  The question is not really changed up a lot when the child is an adult child.  It may actually be a more-important question when the child is an adult because dealing with an adult trapped in a mistake is, in all cases, dealing with a person who is removing all the means at his own disposal frankly to recognize his own ways of destroying himself.  A child can be restrained from destroying himself; an adult will simply do it and be destroyed unless he does what any reasonable adult would do -- and take good advice at face value.  I think it's utterly unquestionable that a loving parent will give the best advice he knows how to give.

But this assumes something which, I think will not be assumed in this discussion: declaring and embracing homosexuality as a lifestyle is a self-destructive mistake.  You know: embracing the homosexual lifestyle is not dangerous because it is likely to make you a target of violent hate crime.  It's true enough that a homosexual is 10 times as likely to be a victim of a hate crime in the United States as the average citizen, but let's unpack that.  According to the FBI, the last year they have a uniform crime report for is 2009.  In that report, in the general population the likelihood of being a victim of a hate crime is 0.2 per 10,000 citizens; being a LGBT victim of a hate crime occurred at a rate of 2 per 10,000 citizens -- which, the be fair, is 10 times as likely, but still not a raging epidemic of violence.  You're five times more likely to be the victim of a fatal traffic accident than you are to be the victim of a LGBT hate-motivated hate crime if you are a homosexual.

But think about this: the CDC reports that when we observe all reported cases of STDs in the United States, 63% of primary and secondary cases of Syphillis occur in the LGBT community.  If that population is, as they say they are, 10% of the population, that means it is 15 times more likely to contract Syphillis in a LGBT lifestyle than it is in the general public.  If the LGBT population is more realistically 3% of the population, it means that the LGBT community is 55 times more likely to contract Syphillis than the average person in the general population.  That's not to mention the problem of AIDS at all.  This isn't happening because there is hate against the LGBT community: this is happening because of how that community conducts itself towards its own members.

So when a father wants to discuss this matter with his son, who is coming out with his confession of his situation, a father ought to be cut some slack if he is deeply and grievously concerned about his son's safety from a strictly secular and humanitarian standpoint.  He ought to be excused if he sees the confession more as a resignation from "inner turmoil" to "active danger" so terrible that in some sense, he wants to give up all hope and protect the rest of his family from the consequences.

But then, from a Christian standpoint, there is a problem greater than self-harm: there is the problem of sin.  A Christian father talks to his son about sin -- not just from an accusatory place as if, as a father, one has arrived at the dizzying heights of human sanctification, but from the place as (one hopes) a battle-scarred soldier in the war against sin in one's own life.  A father, it seems to me, confesses his own sins against his own son when they are apparent to him -- and seeks forgiveness.  So when a Christian father has to talk to his own son about this young fellow's sin, it is not as an impeccable jurist with nothing on the books against himself, but as a known felon who is, at least, confessed as guilty of his crimes -- and working to seek the solution to sin in his own life before seeking to apply it to the unsuspecting lives of others.

They say that you can't "live the Gospel," or "obey the Gospel" (in spite of, for example, 1 Pet 4:17), but you can, in fact, live as if the Gospel is completely true.  It has necessary consequences -- and if you are caught up in all the things you cannot do which Christ must do, you will overlook all the things which you must do if the Gospel is true, and is for you.  For example: living as if we are created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

So to be uncontroversial for a moment, let's imagine that my son came to me and said, "Dad, I have something to tell you, and it's not going to be something you want to hear.  I know something about myself which has always been a part of me, and I just am tired of trying to deny it: I'm a heterosexual, and I'm going to live a heterosexual lifestyle and follow all those desires because that's who God created me to be.  I have to be honest with myself and I can't fight it any longer."



What should my reaction be?  Maybe I could say this: "Son: you are who you are.  Wear the right PPE, keep off the drugs, and make sure you do what makes you happy."

But listen: that's frankly moral malfeasance.   That's ignoring all the things frankly-wrong with embracing physical urges as moral imperatives.  If you said that to a 12-year-old, you would be brought up on charges for fostering delinquency; if you say that to a 25-year-old, you are giving a grown man license to ruin his life and the lives of others.

Before you go on, put my view of it to the test: watch any two episodes of the Maury Povich show (which, unbelievably, is still in new-episode syndication).  Tell me that the version of heterosexuality represented there is just fine -- just what two consenting adults ought to be proud to do.  If that is a totally-acceptable moral way of living, then don't bother to read the rest of this post.  If that way of living is morally-sound either my post here is utterly false, or else you have no way to understand what it is saying.  In either case it will be of no use to you.

My view of it, then, is that somehow the topic of sex is, in anyone's view of it, governed by some set of principles which are not utterly dictated by the reprehensible slogan, "The heart wants what it wants," and all its more-repugnant cognates.  What makes Will Ferrell's oafish lout characters tenable at all is that everyone knows it is utterly and patently obscene to behave that way -- and their failure to see themselves clearly is what makes them laughable (if not actually funny).

But if this is true, what should a father do for his son who has to confess that he must live that lifestyle because that's who God created him to be?  I would say that, in the first place, a letter is not at all adequate.  It would take 10,000 more words to say that in a way which would convict you, but I'll settle for this: you can't mail in your paternal responsibilities to the next generation any more than you can mail in your duties as a husband or even an employee for a decent company.

That said, if it were a letter to be sent, or you wanted to round up your thoughts before sitting down with this young fellow, maybe something like this would work for starters:
Dear Son,

You've made a confession to me that you do not expect me to receive well, and I admit that what you have said has wounded me, because it is not what I wanted for you. In fact, it is not what I still want for you, which is only the best personally, mentally, and spiritually. While it took some sort of single-mindedness on your part to admit this to me, I think it was difficult in part because you knew it would hurt me. I am not going to lie to you: I am, in fact, hurt.

What puzzles me is that you want me to accept this for you and from you when you know I don't think this is what's best for you. I can accept that this is what you want for yourself, and that it seems good to you right now, and that in some sense you cannot help yourself but feel this way. But let's face it: there are many things we know we want which are not even good for us, let alone right or worthwhile.

Since you have made your confession about your situation, let me confess mine: I have never really been a good man at all. I could make a list here of all the times I have failed you, and your mother, and your siblings, and my employer, and the elders at church, and so on -- but I'll bet you can make that list also. You may remember some things I have forgotten, and I'll simply stipulate to the entire exercise. I want you to know that I know I am not a good man, and I come to this problem we now face as a man who, at the end of the day, can't advise you from the moral high ground.

I can only advise you, my son, as a man who has spent his life utterly at the mercy of Jesus Christ.

You know: in some sense, I feel like I love you, so it's easy for me to have done things for you all our life together like buy you clothes and give you a house to live in and feed you and play games with you. But let's face it: every day has not been a day full of duckies and puppies of paternal love overflowing from me to you. Some days I was angry at you, or tired of your shenanigans, or just tired from work and marriage, and I didn't feel loving toward you -- I just felt sort of numb, or worse: burdened by you because you were a handful (as any human being is). In those moments, I was what I know I am, and I didn't want to do what I knew otherwise was right. The difference between those moments and this moment, with you, is that in those moments, I knew that my feelings and urges and dissatisfaction were wrong, and did not justify failing to do the right thing.

Having said that, let me make a confession: there were a lot of those days. That's not because you were especially bad, but because I am. And when I knew my own sin, my own weakness, my own unwillingness to do what I would do if I were full of emotions to point me in a direction that looks so good to other people, I knew that I needed a savior for more than just some kind of final victory: I needed him for a victory today, minute by minute, to become a person grateful for what he has done for me. In some way, I had to remember that the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.

So I didn't just accept that Jesus loved me, or even that he died for me -- as if that kind of story really means anything except as a spectacle anyone could watch in a movie. I accepted that his obedience made out of love, which caused him to want to die on a cross for a person like me, was so that I would know how to obey when I was personally out of love, and out of strength, and out of patience, and all that was left was the way I felt when I felt like I wasn't made to do any of this stuff.

Now: so what? What does that have to do with your confession that this is who you really are? It is my answer back to you, which I think somehow you do not expect: this is also who I really am. The difference between you and me is that I think I need to be saved from it, and you think you do not need to be saved, but rather accepted, so that other people's acceptance of your problem is substituted for real redemption and real resolution.

I love you. I want what is best for you. What you are committing to right now is not it. I am willing, after all these years, to die for you, or die with you, in pursuit of putting the sinful things we both face here and now to death. But I cannot tell you that your decision today is the right decision, and I can't tell you that your confession is anything but a resignation to do what is right in your own eyes in spite of what you know to be true about the moral and spiritual order of the world. We both have a problem -- and it is the same problem. Thank God, we both have a solution, and it is the same solution. Please do not toss out the solution, because it is the only one for you. I am praying for you, and will pray for you, and until you accept the solution, I am also weeping for you.

With love in spite of disappointment,

Dad.
Now, consider it: if that makes any sense at all, what ought we to then say to our son who, frankly, changes only one word in that confession?  What if his confession is that he is lazy?  Or full of rage?  or what if he says he wants to be a liar?

Why would we think that we would respond in any way to those things except in this way?

Now in utter seriousness: if the sin is homosexuality, and that is just like all the other sins we would ache over if our son or daughter was convinced it was simply "who they were," why would we not address it just like this -- like the source of death which Christ died to overcome?

Do we not believe the Gospel?  If not: OK, but lets cut the malarkey with the conferences and books and websites and projects with the "G" word in the title.  But if so, let's get ourselves together on this subject.  Let's Gospel Up.  Let's get serious about the reasons we need the Gospel so that we can get serious about expressing it to our friends and children who need it as much as we do.







12 January 2012

An Open Letter to Frank Turk

Sir Aaron, as posted by Phil Johnson



his message came to us via e-mail and is posted without editorial revision:

Dear Frank:

I know your open letter series has come and gone, but since your last open letter I've been thinking that there was one open letter that was never written but should have. So I took it upon myself to fill that gap by writing this letter to you.

I think I started reading the Pyromaniacs blog in 2008 or early 2009. I suspect I'm unusual in that I first discovered Dan Phillips and only after following his blog for a while did I take my first jaunt over to Pyromaniacs. From the very first post I read at Pyro, I was hooked. Fortunately for me, that first post wasn't written by you because, and I hate to say this, of the triumvirate that really is Pyromaniacs, I just didn't get you. I shamefully confess that I did not look forward to days you posted, at least not at first. If my first introduction to Pyromaniacs had been one of your posts, I might have left and never returned. Had that happened, I know you and the other Pyros would have missed me like a horse misses a fly, but I truly would have missed out on some life changing content. But let me be more specific: I would have missed out on posts you wrote that changed my life.

When I say life changing, I don't mean it in some amorphous way, the same way a man looks back through time and says his life has changed. I realize we are always changing so it's an easy matter to say "my life changed." And for that matter, one cannot read every blog post at Pyro for nearly three years and remain unchanged. But when I say you changed my life, I mean that I can point to specific posts you wrote that affected my thoughts and my deeds in such a way that it unmistakably altered the trajectory of my life. As much admiration as I hold for both Phil and Dan (which sometimes borders on idolatry), I cannot point to a specific post by either one of them that had as much singular influence as I can with you.

I don't recall how I started reading this particular series since it predated any comment I made at Pyro, but your Stay or Go series forever changed my thinking about church membership. More specifically, in your post, Why I Left, I was immediately convicted by your statement: "when my church fails, I am at least partially responsible." Church membership was not a new concept to me and the need to be part of a local congregation was never a doctrine I, in any way, disputed. But until I read your post, my membership was closer to intellectual assent than genuine action. Never before did I accept personal responsibility for the state of the church to which I belonged. So in 2011, when my church had some significant challenges, I didn't mosey on to greener pastures nor did I sit on my hands. I translated my belief into action and took a leadership role that I believe has helped me and helped my local church body. And that, my brother, is something I credit to you, through God's grace.

You also have used a phrase in several posts that resonated with me. You've said, "Be in the Lord's house on the Lord's day with the Lord's people." I know it is such a small thing but after a long work week, sometimes it takes just a gentle reminder to get my lazy self out of bed. When Sunday mornings roll around and I'm eyeing the clock from my bed contemplating sleeping past the Sunday service, it is your words that motivate me: "You—Be in the Lord's house today." And it works. It's weird, I know, but there you go.

My appreciation for you has grown since I've been reading Pyro, but this last year I was overwhelmed by your generosity towards me, personally. A few months ago, I tweeted you asking if I could email you about something unrelated to Pyromaniacs. You didn't just send me your email address, but offered to let me call you even though you had no idea what it was I wanted to discuss. I don't know a single blogger who would have done the same, and that gesture touched me.

So you gushed on and on about Phil and Dan and even the great John MacArthur, but somebody needed to say something about the tremendous work you've done at Pyro and other places. You have truly been a blessing to me and I'm sure to all the other readers at Pyromaniacs.

May the Lord continue to bless you and your ministry at Pyromaniacs in 2012.

Sir Aaron


Phil's signature

21 December 2011

Open Letter to Jesus Christ

by Frank Turk


Dear Jesus,

As you know, I have spent this year blogging Open Letters to various public figures (and avoiding writing some other Open Letters like the one to the pastor who baptized me, and to my wife and my children) with the hope that these people (myself included in the list) would take a moment to listen to someone from outside of their personal echo chambers.  Someday, we'll all know how well that turned out -- both from the receiving end when the great Book is opened on those I blogged, and from the sending end when the great Book's folio appendix with my name on it is opened and my deeds and misdeeds are spelled out so that there's no mistake: for me to be with God's people in the final account required something and someone much more that I have been.  My hope is that they reflect on these things which, I think, in some way they all have to have some sympathy for -- because they all claim that their primary objective is to follow you and, in some way, show you to other people.

This is the thing I am thinking of as this years closes up and I finish this series of open letters: following you, and showing you to others.  Some people think we show you to others by going big -- big dreams, big churches, big books about big subjects like leadership and productivity as a demonstration of stewardship.  Some people think it's in the big special effects which we make much of you -- be it in the inexplicable supernatural by casting out demons, or command healing, or other the other side of the fence in feeding 5000 people or rebuilding a third-world nation.  I think it's funny how American all that really is -- that go-big or go-home attitude of accomplishments as if what we are set out to do here is accomplish something which the Bible says doesn't happen until after you have cast Sin, Death and the Devil into the lake of fire.  There's nothing really Christian about that stuff even though Christians have done a pretty good job of it since you left us here to baptize and make disciples.  It's like we badly-translated the place where Moses says, "You shall therefore be Holy, for I am Holy," to say, "therefore, because I am so Big, you must be Big."

See: I think that's why you came the way you did.  John sort of rushes over this because for him, the "good part" of the Incarnation was the Godness of you -- that You, who is at the Father's side, has revealed to us the Father, and are one with Him.  That's an important point, and one I think these big doers all get well enough.  But the way you actually came -- which John rolls out in one word ("ἐγένετο") but Matthew and Luke roll out in chapters of reference and detail -- is a sort of open letter on the whole thing, the whole enterprise.

You didn't come big, did you?  Not big as we measure it, to be sure -- because if we measured big by the standard of the Nativity, the conception and birth of children would not be treated as such a passe thing by us.  You came small.  You came so small that in spite of the fact that angels announced your birth, and pagan sky-watchers could recognize the star which was set in the heavens to mark your birth and would came to worship you, all of Bethlehem did not turn out to greet you.  The advisors to Herod could not be bothered to come and see for themselves if the King of the Jews had been born.

You came small.

Another way to say that, I think, is that you came in a deliberate or single-minded way: not in a way which is too big to grasp.  I mean: you could have followed the Holy Spirit, right?  We could have first had Pentecost in which all of Jerusalem was speaking in tongues and raising the dead, and then you could have come on a white horse with a great sword in your mouth to judge the nations, and then set right your Kingdom forever -- and the outcome would have been just fine: an eternal kingdom where you rule over your people and the evil are justly set under your footstool.

But you didn't work it out that way.  You didn't want it that way, if we believe Peter and that crazy cousin of yours, John.  You worked it out so that you came as the least of the least so that you could be the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world -- born in a stable like any decent lamb, and discovered by shepherds, and then finally put to death at the hands of evil men for the sake of paying the price for their sins for God's sake.

Now, as I write this, the fire is burning in my fireplace.  I have a robe on, and warm pants, and I have a full tummy.  In spite of being "on vacation" I have also worked every business day in the last week, and I'll get paid on Friday.  I haven't been uncomfortable in decades -- including the few times I have been really, really sick -- because frankly I live better than Herod, in better conditions and with more security.  And when I consider that feeding trough you were laid in to sleep, and the rags you were wrapped in for warmth, and the world you chose to be born into -- because let's face it, you could have waited 2000 years more and been born in America where the worst discomfort is choosing to drink water when you eat out rather than soda -- I read an open letter regarding my own big dreams.  And it puts to shame the fact that in the last week I did more to pad my own nest than I did to find someone to tell about you and make them a disciple of you.

I thank you, God, for your humility which intentionally comes to us as an open letter, a written word for us to consider.  You could have been born into the house of David in a palace of cedar, and you chose instead to be born without a home in the city of David, with no place for you in the inn -- for no other reason than to show us that you do not need our help to save the world, but you come to us to save it anyway.  And you call us not to be the greatest, but the least -- to be a slave like yourself, utterly used for the sake of something other than our own big plans.

So my open letter to you, Jesus, is to ask that your open letter to us do more for us than my small collection of pointed statements could ever do.  Since my open letters made no impact on those I wrote them to, God, let yours dispatch our pride, and arrogance, and super-sized vision casting, and self-promotion, and politics, and theological posturing, and glib epithets, and moral inertia, and cowardice, and fear of being wrong, or fear of being seen as even merely mistaken, and all the other misdemeanors and offenses we invent to make much of ourselves, especially under the cover of making much of you.

Forgive us, God, and cause us to repent.  If it meant so much that you were born in a stable to do it, and would die on a cross to do it, and would overcome and undo death to do it, then please God: overcome the internet and our fragmented church culture to do it.  Someone on the internet is wrong, Jesus -- and sometimes it is me.  May every person who calls on your name this year see how true this is of himself, and let him publicly repudiate his misdeeds as he has publicly perpetrated them.

My thanks for this last year, Lord, and my life.  Help me not to squander it, and to follow you from the stable to the cross to the grave in whatever place you put me.

Glory to you, and peace to those upon whom your favor rests.

Your undeserving servant,

Frank Turk



16 December 2011

Open Letter to John MacArthur

by Frank Turk


Dear Dr. MacArthur,

My dear friend Dan has already written you an open letter this year, and one may think that's the end of it as he has given you a friendly encouragement to do something really hard for the sake of the faithful as part of finishing strong.  However, what Dan had to say has absolutely nothing to do with what I have to say, so I'll say this bit myself.



I've had the great pleasure to visit SoCal twice in the last year or so, and both times I got to tour the GTY offices because, well, I was living in Phil's house for the week and from my perspective it's always instructive to see where the magic happens (and we go see Disney while we're there, too, since we're middle American tourists).  Both times I had the pleasure to chat with the staff and both times I got to view your office at GTY -- and I found that I had to simply just walk out quickly.  I had this really unnatural fear that if we stuck around too long, you'd show up and I'd have to meet you face to face.

Now, honestly: I'm not a fan-boy.  I can remember that the last time I was at T4G I was walking from the hotel to the conference and as I turned to my left, the guy crowding up on me was CJ Mahaney, and I didn't get all creeped out.  I didn't grab for my pen to get an autograph.  He's a guy, I'm a guy, and we were walking down the hall together.  No Problem.

I once rode in an elevator with John Eldredge when he was a big name at CBA and I was a little disappointed at what a short little fellow he was, and that he needed a handler to make his way around the conference center, but I wasn't overcome with awe for a guy who has sold a million books.  Ergun Caner once forced his book on me back when people thought he was an ex-jihadi and he told me (without every talking to me about what I believed) that everything I knew about the Crusades was wrong.  He made me feel the way the guy selling scented anointing oil made me feel, which is not star-struck.  My wife once (accidentally) cut in line to get Third Day's autograph (she thought she was meeting the sales rep from Provident), and we had a good laugh about that.  I didn't get all giddy when she handed me Mac Powell's and Mike Lee's autographs.

But when I stood in your office, I was remembering when I was a very young Christian, living in a place called Sackett's Harbor.  I barely had a local church, and I was working at a thankless job for a guy who hated me, and I had to drive 20 minutes to work every day at 4:30 in the morning.  On the way back from work at 3 PM, I would hear J. Vernon McGee.  But on the way in -- and I remember almost every drive as a drive through icy cold in the snow-covered hell-bow of NY State and Lake Ontario -- you were preaching through the Bible.

I wasn't in the worst place anyone has ever been.  I wasn't homeless, or unemployed, or without prospects, or unsaved.  But I was disoriented spiritually, and undisciplined, and unfocused; and because of the situation I had at work, I was also depressed, and looking for some sort of hope in a world which, frankly, could care less about me.  And I was still making the rookie mistakes a newly-saved adult makes every time.

What happened to me through your preaching was not personal discipleship -- it couldn't be.  You don't know me, and you could not have known me or my problems then.  But through the work of GTY assembling your sermons for the radio on a daily basis you saved my spiritual life.  You planted a seed in me which others were also working to plant, and which others still cultivated for a good harvest as I later became a husband and father and leader at work.

And in doing this, you really didn't do this for me: you did it for Christ.  I get that -- I get it that you don't really preach with anyone in mind but with Christ in mind so that those who are listening, whosoever they are, will hear it and come.  I get it that you sort of did it to me and not for me.  But when I think of the massive benefit I have received simply because you were a faithful servant to Jesus, I am taken aback.

The only other man in my spiritual life to have this kind of impact on me was my pastor, and he did personally disciple me.  He did take the time to make me talk about spiritual things and consider spiritual reasons for following the narrower path rather than a wider path which would just be easier.  But here's the thing: what he was trying to tell me and do for me would never have mattered if, when I was driving in the dark and the snow each morning, you hadn't also spoken the words of life into me when I was preparing to go to a job I hated, working for a man who distrusted and denigrated me even though I was doing things for him he didn't even know he needed.  You spoke daily into my doubt and my downcast state with sound spiritual wisdom, and it changed me.

So when I stood in your office, I wasn't in the office of a famous man.  I was in the office of a fellow who saved my spiritual life, and the life of my marriage, and of my professional vocation, and the life of my family.  For me, I'm not sure I could meet you and not over-react, because you have given me so much which was so essential for the start of my walk with Christ.  Everything that has come after it is a consequence of what you have done, and the least I owe you for that is thanks.

So today: thank you.  Thank you that you taught me about Christ so I could love my wife better.  Thank you that you taught me about humility so I could think of others as more important than myself.  Thank you that you taught me how to confess my sins for the sake of repentance.  Thank you that you taught me that I have a refuge from all my doubt in Christ's resurrection.  Thank you that, with other faithful men, but in a place they could not reach me, you were  filling up what was lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.

Thank you that what you have given me makes Christmas brilliant and sweet.  I hope that this season brings good tidings of great joy to you and yours.  Thanks for being a good friend and good boss to Phil.  I look forward to seeing what God has for you as you finish the race well for the sake of your savior.