You Know You're Bad

I'm not a big fan of reality TV. So it was by pure coincidence (I was at the gym) that I caught a segment of Fox’s latest muckraking show “Moment of Truth.”

The show is pretty simple: contestants are asked a series of potentially embarrassing questions such as, “Have you ever cheated on your spouse? Do you really care about the starving children in Africa?” and a polygraph gauges whether or not their answers are truthful. To heighten the drama, family and friends join the participant on stage as truth after horrifying truth emerges.

In the episode I saw, a young woman had a string of indiscretions come to light, including the fact that she had cheated on her husband.

One of the last questions posed seemed less threatening. The host simply asked her, “Do you believe you are basically a good person?”

She paused and thought about it. The camera panned to her father, who—despite the recent revelations about her behavior—was nodding his head vigorously.

The woman too seemed convinced. “Yes,” she said. “I am a good person.”

You can probably guess what the polygraph said—it was a lie.

As I watched a thought struck me: I’ll bet a lot of people are like that woman. They claim to be good people but deep down they know that they aren’t. Despite all assurances from others and even themselves, they realize that there’s something rotten in their soul. They know they are sinful.

A new survey by Ellison Research found that 87 percent of Americans still believe in the existence of sin. The survey defined sin as “something that is almost always considered wrong, particularly from a religious or moral perspective.”

Though we are constantly told by academics and secular progressives that sin is an archaic notion, it seems to have great staying power in the general population. I believe that’s because it’s stitched into our DNA. Call it fallenness, depravity, the Adamic curse—it’s always there, ready to rear it’s ugly head.

But I believe that there’s an upside to sin. Every time we glimpse our hearts of darkness, we’re reminded of our need for a Savior. As the saying goes: "The darker the night, the brighter the light."

Maybe reality TV can serve a purpose after all.

Failing Homosexuals

If you're like me—a theologically conservative Christian—you probably get sick of being labeled "homophobic." You hear it in the secular media all the time: people who oppose the practice of homosexuality are benighted, backward and bigoted. Above all we’re accused of being scared stiff of gay people.

I can honestly say that, for me, this is not the case. Yes, I believe homosexuality is a sin. But I do not fear homosexuals. Being around them does not make me squeamish. I have no visceral reaction of disgust when I meet them. I regard them much as I do anyone ensnared by destructive desires—with sympathy and hope for renewal.

But there is something that I must confess. By and large we evangelicals have done a poor job of reaching out to homosexuals.

I know I have. My first failing might be excused. I was about 13 years old when a confused buddy admitted he was experiencing same-sex attraction. “That’s weird, man” was about all I could offer.

I wouldn’t think about the topic until a few years later when the worship leader of our church stood in front of the congregation and confessed he was gay. He immediately stepped down from leadership and submitted to a course of restoration.

That wasn’t enough for some folks. My father was the pastor and heard their complaints. “I’m not bringing kids to a church with a homosexual in it!” one man shouted.

I’m proud to say that my father stood his ground. He refused to banish a repentant sinner from the community. Soon after he would lose his pastorate in no small part because of that controversial, but Christ-like, stand.

My next experience was just a few years ago. My landlord was gay. He invited my wife and I over for a casual party at his place. My wife had to work on the night of the party, but I decided to go alone. When I opened the door to his place, I suddenly found myself among thirty gay men sipping wine and discussing art.

I felt very out of place. I wasn’t scared—just awkward. What could I say to these men who were so very different from me? I grew up playing and talking sports with my father and three older brothers. I had no idea how to relate to these men.

After about a half hour of stilted conversation I excused myself and slipped out the door.

I should have stayed. I should have reached out to those men. I should have let them know that Christians care enough to push past their comfort zones to show them the love of God.

Next time I will. I hope you do too.

Where are the Men?

Next time you're in church, perform a little experiment for me. Look around the sanctuary and count the number of women. Then count the men. If your congregation mirrors national averages, six or seven out of every 10 people with you in the pews will be female—meaning only three or four out of 10 will be male.

Visit a church during the week and you’ll find the proportion of women to men even more lopsided. Seventy to 80 percent of participants at midweek activities are female, a phenomenon that prompted one pastor to comment, “If it weren’t for the postman, every visitor to the church during the week would be a woman.”

So, what’s behind this trend? And what can be done to reverse it?

Maybe church is the problem. Some claim contemporary services have been feminized beyond recognition. Emotive sermons and flowery choruses have made church unendurable for the average guy.

I think there’s some truth to this critique. Churches have to change. Methodologies must be honed to better meet men’s needs.

But I’m not ready to let me off the hook completely. An emasculated church may actually be the consequence of male absence, not the cause of it. If men want man-friendly services, there is something simple they can do: get more involved!

I understand that church attendance isn’t the ultimate measurement of spiritual health, but it is an important one. I think that many men are just in a spiritual stupor. A lot of Christian guys don’t give a rip about the things of God. They’re content to snore through the occasional sermon, before retiring to the sofa to let cable television wash over him. I’m not just pointing fingers. I often fall into the same rut. I float through life, without really pursuing God, without truly seeking intimacy with Him.

I believe that the lack of male spiritual vitality is one of the greatest problems facing the church today. Please give me your feedback. Why do you think men are so scarce at church these days? And what should we do about it?

The Biggest Threat to Christianity: You!

I didn't rig the poll. I promise!

Last week when I decided to conduct a New Man poll on the greatest threats to American Christianity, I included the scariest foes I could imagine: Cults, New Age philosophy, Atheism—along with several other scourges.

It was almost as an afterthought that I added a category that seemed far less threatening: spiritual indifference and complacency.

Yet, so far, nearly 60 percent of you have chosen “spiritual indifference and complacency” as the greatest threat. And, after giving it some thought, I have to agree.

If we’re right, that means the biggest threat to American Christianity is not some dark and gathering force beyond the walls of the church. Rather the biggest danger to Christianity is … Christians!

Even your runner-up choice in the poll, “Materialism” has more to do us than “them.”

What’s the answer? How do we wage war against ourselves? I don’t think a spiritual pep rally will do. We need some honest and vulnerable time before our Maker. We can’t drum up spiritual vitality. Only the supernatural power of God’s Spirit can do that.

If we allow God to breath new life into us, together we will become the church that Christ envisioned. And if the gates of hell couldn’t stand against it, one thing’s for sure. All those other threats won’t stand a chance.