Donald Trump is a spiritually dangerous choice: a Response to Wayne Grudem

I admit, I’m addicted to this election. It has provided endless hours of entertainment, anxiety, hilarity, disgust, and incredulity. But last week, a sobering thing happened that registered heavily on my radar as a follower of Jesus: Wayne Grudem endorsed Donald Trump for president bringing his full weight to bear as a theologian and professor of ethics. Grudem’s book, “Systematic Theology” is a mainstay in most seminaries and his endorsement will ease the anxieties of many conservative evangelicals who feel keenly the tension of voting for someone as obviously unchristian as Donald Trump.

I’m not too surprised by the myriad Christian leaders such as Jerry Falwell Jr. who have come out swinging for Trump so far. After all, Trump seems to know us better than we know ourselves. He knows that there is one thing conservative Evangelicals in our culture hunger for more than anything else (hint: it’s not Jesus). So in a recent meeting with Evangelicals, Trump made his case plainly to the applause of his born-again audience:

“…And I say to you folks because you have such power, such influence. Unfortunately the government has weeded it away from you pretty strongly. But you’re going to get it back. Remember this: If you ever add up, the men and women here are the most important, powerful lobbyists. You’re more powerful. Because you have men and women, you probably have something like 75, 80 percent of the country believing. But you don’t use your power. You don’t use your power….”

It’s easy to imagine how evangelicals who stand to gain power and influence through a Trump presidency could jump on the bandwagon. But Grudem at least appears to be arguing from an ideological perspective. As far as I know, he has not been offered a spot on Trump’s “Evangelical Advisory Board” (though as it happens, he DID sit among Rubio’s evangelical advisors). What this means is that respected Christians leaders and theologians are now attempting to develop a serious and sophisticated apologetic for supporting Donald Trump.

Thankfully in the last few days, a number of excellent rebuttals to Grudem’s article have surfaced from thoughtful Christians who see through Grudem’s irenic tone to the abundant fallacies of his argument. Theologian Scot McKnight says it well in his article:

“Instead of coating with Christian make-up Donald Trump’s obvious lack of Christian convictions and character as Wayne Grudem did... he should have reduced his endorsement to the following sentences:

1. Evangelicals need to align themselves with Republicans. (That is, Grudem is saying “I believe the Republican party is closest to Christian convictions.”)

2. Hillary Clinton is a Democrat and so deficient that one cannot vote for her as an option. (That is, Grudem is saying “I cannot in any way vote for Clinton or the Democrats.”)

3. Donald Trump is the Republican nomination.

4. Therefore, vote Trump.”

Instead, Mcknight argues, Grudem used his authority as a theologian and ethicist and “affirmed the unaffirmable and defended the indefensible about Trump... Vote for him, Grudem,” McKnight says. “Just don’t pretend your years of teaching Christian ethics lead to an endorsement of the man’s character, even if you think he is a good candidate with ‘flaws.’”

Grudem argues that Christians should pragmatically evaluate not only Trump as a candidate, but the kind of nation that would result from a Trump presidency. He discusses at length the profound impact Trump could have on the Supreme Court and what that would likely mean for abortion, gay marriage, and religious liberty. He even goes so far as to say, “Such a court would likely overturn Roe v. Wade and return abortion laws and the regulation of abortion to the states.” This of course rests on the likelihood that Trump is genuinely prolife, will not go back on campaign promises, is generally honest, and is not simply pandering to his conservative base to get their votes, all of which Grudem incredibly seems to assume on faith. (For a moderating opinion on Grudem’s apocalyptic vision of a liberal Supreme Court and the “Trump card” this has been for the Republican nominee, check out this article.)

From this argument, he jumps into a general defense of Republican policy, going so far as to claim that Christians “ought to” support lower taxes, decreased spending, and a stronger military. This to me is simply irresponsible coming from a theologian. I’m certain Grudem feels sincere convictions about taxes and the military, but they are not theologically superior convictions nor should he not pretend they are.

But my real concern about Grudem’s article and the idea that 78% of white Evangelicals will exercise their “Christian conscience” in voting for Donald Trump in November is that in the end, we just might get everything we want: political influence, a conservative supreme court, stricter immigration policies, tougher abortion laws, and greater religious freedoms (for Christians anyway). But in the process, we will lose our moral clarity, our prophetic voice, even our very souls. Seriously.

If Grudem’s unlikely vision becomes reality, Evangelicals may enjoy an unprecedented season of political power and a legislative environment friendly to evangelicals, their policies, and their institutions, but not their gospel. Because we will so blunted and morally bankrupted by the back-breaking work of contorting our spiritual convictions into a Trump-style conservatism that there will be no gospel left for us except “stay safe, destroy our enemies, and fight for our rights.” We will find ourselves slipping away from the Jesus we first loved to a Jesus who agrees with all our opinions and blesses all our agendas. We may in the end gain the political influence we crave but sacrifice our spiritual and moral substance in the process.

What I saw at the RNC a couple weeks ago and throughout the Trump campaign was the emergence of a truly Satanic culture built on fear, bitter vindictiveness, the muzzling of opposition, a shared hatred of a common enemy which Pastor Mark Burns identified as “Hillary Clinton and the Democratic Party.” Like a personality cult, what is left of the Republican party now orbits around the whims of a single individual. All of this is dressed up in a Christian façade to ease the conscience of Evangelicals who want so desperately to believe that they are voting for what Grudem calls, basically “good, but flawed” candidate who will faithfully represent them and their conservative interests.

To really wrap our brains around a vote for Trump, we will need to soft-pedal his narcissism, foolishness (see John Piper’s excellent article, “How to Recognize a Foolish Leader”), and unrepentant sin (I still don’t see a shred of evidence to substantiate James Dobson’s claim that Trump is now a “baby Christian”.... See also Matthew 7:16.)

To truly support Trump as Christians, we will need to stop calling these things “evil” and start calling them (as Grudem does) “flaws” or (as author Eric Metaxes writes), “foibles, peccadilloes, and metaphorical warts.” Both authors make a limp-wristed effort to identify the concerning qualities of Trump’s campaign but then essentially sweep them under a rug by essentially saying, “He doesn’t mean that stuff. He’s just being a blowhard. And even if he is a tyrant, congress and his advisers will keep him in check so no big deal.”

In dressing Trump up as a basically good (even Christian) candidate now, we have already begun eroding our conscience and blunting the edge of our moral clarity. We have become complicit with a personal evil which will—no matter WHO’S on the cabinet—translate to systemic evil, which Christians will no longer possess the moral clarity to identify or challenge.

Should we bomb the families of terrorists? Well, Grudem states this is merely a “mistaken idea... that he must later abandon.” And the spitefulness, the vindictive behavior, the sexism, the demonization of Mexicans and Muslims, his hesitance to rein in “angry fringe supporters”?

“These are certainly flaws,” Grudem says. “But I don’t think they are disqualifying flaws in this election.” In fact Grudem states clearly, “I don’t think it is right to call him an ‘evil candidate.’ I think rather he is a good candidate with flaws.”

This moral ambiguity and hesitance to call evil what it is should be a jarring wakeup call for evangelicals. Because if America DID start “taking out” the families of terrorists, or rounding up Muslims, or passing discriminatory laws and executive orders targeting immigrants or minorities, we would at that point be so morally numb that we may simply sit on our couches bemoaning “what a pity it is that it should come to this” and then change the channel reminding ourselves that we picked a “good candidate with flaws.” And since white evangelicals would be the last group to suffer under such policies, we could keep on soft-pedaling, insisting that it is “business as usual.”

Beyond the theological and moral gymnastic required to airbrush Trump’s candidacy from a Christian worldview, I’m watching Trump actually change the beliefs of evangelicals far more than they are changing him. While evangelical leaders insist they are asking Trump “tough questions” I’m watching these leaders slowly begin to embody the anxious jargon and hateful rhetoric once reserved only for Trump’s fringe supporters. It concerns me greatly when I observe the rudest, most sarcastic and spiteful Trump supporters on social media also quoting the most bible verses. Some of these people are family and friends. And people like Grudem are giving them permission to absorb into their lives the very “flaws” which we whitewash as the “lesser of two evils”. In other words, Donald Trump is discipling evangelicals and we are letting him.

The outcome for Christians will be the qualities Paul describes in 2 Timothy 3, which already fit Trump so perfectly:

“There will be terrible times in the last days.  People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God— having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with such people.”

So let me make a recommendation not as a matter of politics but as a matter of Christian conviction: have nothing to do with Donald Trump. Have nothing to do with the personality cult, which has become his whole platform and policy. Do not vote for him. Do not excuse him or defend him. Do not embrace him, even as the “lesser of two evils.” No matter what he offers, stand against him and the truly evil foolishness that his life and policy engenders.

Lest you think I’m judging him too harshly, listen to these words from James: “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom. But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such “wisdom” does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice.”

You may think I’m unfairly singling out Trump when so many politicians are wicked and corrupt. The reason I’m doing so is because while I do believe character counts in any leader, James has more to say about the “bombastic” leader (or teacher) with an untamed tongue, which “makes great boasts” (James 3:5). This is not “just another flaw.” He says that those who cannot control what they say will also be unable to control their bodies (v.2). Their words will be like a rudder that steers a ship or a spark that ignites a forest fire (v.4-5). In this case, the angry narrative and “bombastic” language of Donald Trump are not benign “mistaken ideas”. They are the rudder and spark that will steer and ignite a nation toward deeper fear, anger, and division. And if we get sucked into the gravity well of this narrative, we will find ourselves becoming passively complicit (or actively engaged) in actual atrocities.

Dr. Kevin Baird says it well: “It is without question that Christians have and will be ruled by morally corrupt, flawed, and evil people. The question that is never answered is, are we required to empower those people to leadership? I can accept God’s providence in allowing an Ahab or Jezebel to rule, but am I expected to empower either one to that position?”

At the end of the day, the gospel of Jesus has survived the harshest political climates in history. But Christians should be careful of the dangers of compromising with brazen evil in the name of gaining cultural influence for themselves or their policies. Jesus stares this false pragmatism in the face when he says, “What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?”

Wherever you line up politically, Christians should have to courage to stand against evil from within as well as evil from without. They should be the first to challenge systemic evil, even the evil that benefits them. We should have the courage to say along with Martin Luther, “my conscience is captive to the Word of God... To go against conscience is neither right nor safe. So help me God. Amen.”

But far from marching blindly into cultural obscurity, I believe this act of courageous faith in maintaining our moral clarity in the tension of impossible decisions is the only way to restore our prophetic voice and moral authority in our culture. If we are willing to surrender our political influence in rejecting the “lesser of two evils” approach and refusing to enthrone Trump, we will find a much deeper cultural influence than the one promised by Falwell’s “moral majority”. In other words, those who lose their life will find it. And those who lay down their influence will discover it in wonderful new ways.

I can’t tell you what party to align with, which policies to support, what taxes to lower, or what walls to build. But I can say this to all evangelicals without hesitation or apology: Don’t ever defend or support Donald Trump.

And if at the end of the day, you still feel you MUST vote for him, then do it eyes wide open. Recognize that you are voting for what the bible would call a wicked and foolish leader. (As Proverbs says, “when the wicked rule, the people groan.) So if you do vote for him, then you must also be the thorn in his side. You must be dogged and vocal in maintaining your moral clarity and calling for accountability in every one of his “mistaken ideas” and “metaphorical warts”. This will be difficult if not impossible to do. But don’t whitewash him. Don’t call him “a man who believes in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Don’t call him “a good candidate with flaws.” He is not. Regardless of whom you vote for, stand strong against fear, hatred, and evil wherever it is found. Stand against injustice, especially for those outside your group.

Don’t get drawn into the hatred and fear of a false narrative. Be a peacemaker. Because, “The wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.”

Clarifying your Calling in No Easy Steps

I lay spread eagle on my bed, 3 fans blowing hot air on me, dripping slowly into my warm African foam bed. Even the “cold” shower water was hot from the sizzling Ghanaian sun. I had nothing to do in the heat of the day but try to rest and stay hydrated. So I lay there, as if in a trance thinking about my life, and what the heck I’m doing with it.

I thought about this last year of my life since I returned from Ethiopia last March to a hospitalized asthmatic son and one simple mandate from the Holy Spirit: stay put.

I did stay and I worked hard on a lot of personal issues that make staying put so hard for me. But I’ll admit I was never peaceful about it. I felt every day that the thing that gave me so much purpose (my work in Africa) had been pulled out from under me and nothing could ever replace it.

I tried. Oh I tried to find something else to fill that void, to renew a sense of purpose and vision in my life. I tried to start and do so many things that year. But everything I tried hoping to scratch that itch fizzled almost immediately. I just had to stay put and feel the discomfort, just as I now lay on my bed embracing 106 degrees of discomfort. And somewhere in that squirming, purposeless discomfort, I grew up a little.

I thought about the fact that now I’m BACK in Africa and I’m getting hit with a realization: I’m no actually very good at this. I mean, I’m pretty good at traversing new cultures and eating exotic food in beautiful temperate mountains with English speakers who love me and share my faith in Jesus. But this?? Sweating in a flat scrubby bush-land eating food I really don’t like (sorry Ghana), sharing God’s love with Muslims (NOT my gift) whose language I can’t speak and who have a reputation for kidnapping outsiders? It’s risky. But more so, I often feel uncertain, sometimes bored, and OFTEN lonely.

It got me thinking... maybe this whole thing is simply rooted in my need to be liked and validated. Maybe I only like Africa when Africa likes me. Am I only in this for the exotic adventures in beautiful places with friendly people?

But then I thought about my 13-year-old self sitting at my friend Steve’s kitchen table tracing lines across the 5 or 6 West African countries where then felt strangely called to, and I now work ... I was certain then (for no obvious reason) that God was calling me to this part of the world and up until today that certainty has never left me.

Laying there, I took a rough inventory of all the commitments, involvements, dreams, passions, and ideas I have. It’s a LONG list. With every one of them, I said, “Boy it would be great to ____________! ....Until it wasn’t great anymore. Then I’d probably quit.” Boy it would be great to have a music career. Until it wasn’t great anymore. Then I’d be out of there. Boy it’d be great to own a hobby farm. Until it wasn’t great anymore. Boy it’d be great to start a coffee shop, be in an intentional community, plant a church... until, until, until.

But when I thought of my involvement in this sweaty scrubby bushland among Ghana’s nomadic cattle folk, my self-absorbed caveats evaporated. I thought to myself, “wow I’m so not cut of for this. And it might get a lot worse in years to come. And in spite of that, and even if it gets harder, I know I’ll keep coming back for more.” Not because I’m the faithful steady type (I’m not). And not because it’s all I know how to do (it’s not). And not because it makes the most objective sense for me (it doesn’t).

I’ll keep coming back because this is where I’m supposed to be. I just know it is deep down. Because more than any other area of my life, God has been most obviously involved in leading me in this area, in roundabout ways to this strange place and this foreign people. This is where I’m supposed to be. Not because it’s fulfilling, but just because its where I’m supposed to be.

It’s been very clarifying for me to think about the things I’m essentially committed to not because it feels good or because I’ll feel guilt if I don’t do it but because I know deep down it’s what I’m supposed to do. I may not always get to do those things in the ways I imagine, but it’s very centering to have them at the front of my mind when I’m chasing down passions and making major life decisions.

Do you have anything like that in your life? Try making a list of all the things you LOVE and are passionate about and dream of doing some day. Then try to imagine yourself getting to do those things and it being far more painful and far less fulfilling than you ever imagined. Would you stick with it? Why or why not? And for how long? Is there anything in your life that maybe doesn’t make as much “sense” that you would wake up and do every day no matter what just because? Is there something beyond your fulfillment and enjoyment and gratification that drives you forward each day? Where did those things come from? Are they from childhood vows or childhood wounds (maybe not so healthy)? Or are they driven by a deeper hunger, a strange certainty, an “I’ve-just-gotta”, a mysterious calling?  Maybe it’s a relationship, a task, or an inner commitment.  

I have that “just do it” feeling about my marriage, my parenting, one or two friendships, and my commitment to seeing the extraordinary presence of Jesus break into my ordinary life.  I’m not saying they are unshakeable, just that they are pretty core to what makes me “tick” even when I’m all “ticked out”. They are a few of the most anchoring things within me that make me trudge along even when doing so defies reason.

So what about you? What makes you tick for no apparent reason?

New Leaves on a Harsh and Tedious Stretch

“Alright God. Now what?” I prayed this morning. I had just finished a disappointing phone call, which effectively put an end to a month of work and planning on an exciting new project.

I’ve had lots of those this year: “Now whats”. Fits and starts. Sudden ends to exciting new dreams. And when those grand possibilities crumble, what’s left is the everyday plodding; the stuff I just wake up and do because it needs to get done. Yes, I’m growing. And yes, I’m tired of it. Been there?

But today God answered me in a funny way: Now we turn over a new leaf.

“A new leaf huh?” I shrugged, bemused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” God always teases me with these cryptic little Hallmark phrases. But what’s really funny is when at some later moment, these little taglines come into focus with shocking clarity and truth.

The reply came (as it often does) as a disembodied scripture reference: Isaiah 43:19. (I don’t have this stuff memorized by the way. Just following the breadcrumbs.) Here’s what it says...

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” –Isaiah 43:19

Ok wow... Cool huh? I still don’t know what it all means. But for one thing, I think it means that God promises to be a surprising source of life and refreshment in those long arid stretches. I think it means that we can (and should) find comfort and delight in His very tangible and personal presence with us.

Anyway, I’ve been having this uncharacteristic anxiety lately. For various reasons not worth mentioning, I’ve ditched my morning quiet time (which had been such a grounding time of connecting with my Father). These days, I check my smartphone dozens of times a day. I worry about money. I worry about my job. I worry about my health. Even as I type this, I take a break to check on our finances and boom. Worry. We are such fickle creatures aren’t we?

But even while I struggle to focus on this present moment and God’s Spirit living in me during this harsh and tedious stretch, I can sense that things are changing. He is indeed doing New Things.

For one, I booked a ticket to Ghana yesterday.  On March 25, just over a year from the time God told me (back in that camp shower at an Ethiopian retreat center) to take a break from travel, I’m going back to Africa. I’ll be traversing Northern Ghana with an amazing posse of young leaders, teaching on our discipleship approach at a 3-day conference, and trekking through the hot African bush to visit Muslim nomadic tribesmen in their grass-domed houses. I’m hoping it will help me get my bearings on the work we do through Love Nomads Coffee as well as deepen my relationships with these amazing young leaders who are doing discipleship in some really innovative ways.

I’ve also felt a fresh push of inspiration in the work I do with WDA’s international ministry. We’ve been redesigning our whole curriculum and training approach, making quiet shifts away from an event-based conference model toward a relational team-based coaching model. It doesn’t sound like a big deal when I say that. But most days, it feels like a great collective sedition toward something more wholesome, something we all want but can’t put our finger on, something both organic and intentional.

My coffee roasting hobby has had its twists and turns too. For the first time, I discovered a way to put a bean temperature probe in my handmade drum roaster. It allows me to roast with incredible precision and control... In other words, the coffee tastes better than ever. Plus I feel like a mad scientist. :) Then I signed up for my first SCAA expo in April (basically it’s geekfest for coffee freaks and professionals) and I'm beyond excited to check out the roasting class, the brewer’s cup, the barista championship, and all other iterations of brew snobbery. And I’m still dreaming about opening a café of my own someday. Or a mobile tiny house turned coffee shop? Or???

But whatever the twists and turns, God is going to be there with his quiet Presence and zany sense of humor, doing new and wild things, things that I could never guess. I don’t want to get all wrapped up in the significance (or insignificance) of what I might do tomorrow. Life is too short and I want to enjoy today. I want to enjoy God’s simple goodness right now... in this present moment. So while I wait for whatever God is up to, my prayer is that I would just relax in the assurance of surprising paths in the wilderness, streams in the desert.

Near Drowning and New Desires

Part of being a parent, I suppose, is going through really scary experiences, even near-death experiences with your kids. I suppose many parents have those moments where they feel helpless to protect their children. They realize how fragile life is and they wake up resolved to treasure every moment they have. That’s how I’m waking up this morning.

We have been so blessed as parents with healthy kids, safe environments, and no major injuries in our family... until this year. In March, when I was in Ethiopia, Levi ended up in the hospital for 3 days unable to breathe on his own. After that, I set aside my international travels for the remainder of the year. And it was a good thing, because shortly after that, Debra was in the same hospital with pneumonia. Then I had a meningitis scare (turned out to be a horrible virus)... not to mention the ramping-up of daily crazy as Levi hit the worst stage of potty training, food anxiety, accident-proneness, and hitting/kicking/biting.... and Juniper became a toddler full of curiosity and a loud, opinionated personality of her own.

Friday night, we were swimming with some friends in their pool. There were 7 kids between 4 adults. Juniper had been going back and forth between the moms in the kiddie pool and the dads in the big pool. Her new favorite game is jumping into a parents arms while squishing her eyes shut against the splashing water. The other kids were either independent swimmers or wearing floaties. Every two minutes, my friend Brent would stop our conversation and do a head count. I remember thinking he was being a bit paranoid. After all, we were in the pool, right next to the kids, and keeping our eyes on them at all times.

But things happen fast and nobody heard the splash. It was only when Brent started counting heads that we both saw it: a small pink object flailing in slow motion beneath the surface of the water 10 feet away. At first I thought it was one of the older kids swimming underwater until Brent started lunging towards it. Juniper had apparently crawled on to the top step of the shallow end at the very moment that all 10 pairs of eyes were off her.  Then she must have stepped out just over her head. My heart dropped when Brent pulled Juniper out of the water limp and blue around the lips. I rushed to grab her and for one endless I didn’t know if she was conscious or not. Then she threw up, coughed, and started to cry a weak, terrified cry. Relief, guilt, and fear all rushed in as I held her bent over to clear the water from her lungs and everybody came rushing over wanting to know what happened.

Juniper was breathing rapidly and her heart was pounding. For a moment, nobody knew quite what to do next.. Then in a flurry, an ambulance was called, but being close to the hospital we decided to take her ourselves. Brent and Heidi took our other kids home for a sleepover... and this is the 5^th time in a year they have kept our kids during a medical emergency!

As we pulled out of the subdivision, we passed two blaring ambulances and a firetruck, but we just kept driving, at every stoplight leaning back to make sure our daughter was still alive. She was staring quietly out the window taking quick shallow breaths, but her color had returned.

At the hospital we were seen immediately. An x-ray of her lungs showed that we had been very lucky. But the doctor said he did see a little streaking and wanted us transferred to Scottish Rite just to be safe. Another crisis quickly arose when they told us they would be putting an IV in our 18-month-old’s hand and the driving 45 minutes while Debra rode up front. All I could imagine was as a pair of bullish EMT’s driving on stone-faced while my daughter screamed her way through her second major life trauma that day and her mother sat captive in the front unable to help or comfort her. More panic, a hold out, a thick AMA (“against medical advice”) waiver thrust toward me by a tearful nurse with the threat of an uninsurable hospital bill to follow, another meeting with the drivers, a negotiation, and finally we caved. Then came an IV without anesthetic. This took some time as nurses searched for a vein on Juniper chubby hand, traumatizing both Juniper and her compassionate but helpless mother. But thankfully, the ride itself was calm and Juniper quietly watched cartoons the whole way.

Scottish Rite is a great hospital, but nurses, doctors, admission, billing, and any other number of employees poked, prodded, and asked the same questions 5 times until 4AM when we all collapsed from sheer exhaustion and slept for 5 hours. The next day, things looked better. A social worker making his rounds was less antagonistic than we feared and the doctor gave us a clean bill of health. After lunch, we were released, bedraggled and still in shock, but grateful. So grateful.

When we came home another shock awaited us. In the flurry of the last couple days, we had forgotten about Annabel’s two bunnies, who now lay in their cage cold, dead, and dehydrated. I was sick and actually cried a little as I walked their little corpses back into the woods behind our house. It was just one more reminder that life is fragile and one inattentive move can take it away forever. It was only my friend’s hyper-vigilant head count that saved my daughters life and it was our neglect (understandable though it may be) that killed the rabbits. “This can never happen again,” I thought to myself.

One positive side of the whole experience (besides a resolve to be more vigilant) was a much stronger bond with my daughter and with my whole family in general. People talk about meeting their child for the first time as a life-changing experience. They talk about a love they never knew they had flooding in to their hearts and sustaining them as parents throughout their children’s lives. That’s not my experience. When I first met my kids, my feelings were awe, adoration, tenderness, and pride. But love has crept in slowly over the course of dozens of sleepless nights, toxic diapers, temper tantrums, tender snuggles, and moments I almost lost them. As I’m stretched beyond myself as a parent into those powerless spaces, my adoration of my kids turns into real compassion (literally translated, “suffering with”), real love.

In my last post, I talked about reading the lectionary as a helpful spiritual practice. It does a good job shepherding me through scripture in a slow, methodical way and enriches my spiritual life in ways that don’t require me to have a monastic life, lots of emotional energy, or theological profundity. Well yesterday after the whole hospital experience, I plopped down to read that day’s lectionary reading. It took me to an interesting passage: David grieves the death of his son, Absalom.

In the story, Absalom attempts a coup against his father and raises an army to fight and dethrone him. Though it was the ultimate betrayal, David’s fatherly heart moved him to order the commander of his army, “be gentle for my sake with the young man Absalom.” Probably seen by his troops as a sign of the king’s weakness, 10 young men disregard the order, surround Absalom (whom they find defenseless and alone in the forest) and kill him in cold blood. So the battle was won but David weeps bitterly over the loss of his son. Though 10 young men saw only a betrayal and the need to right a wrong, the king saw the loss of a son and cried out “Oh Absalom. Absalom, my son. If only I had died instead of you!” 

I’ve got great kids and none of them are trying to overthrow me (though some days I may dispute that) but David’s love is striking. 10 years ago, the story was compelling, but maybe a bit confusing to me. Today I’m a step closer to getting it. Life is precious, a tremendous gift that is so easily taken away. And so much stronger than a life of vision and impact and legacy is a life full of love for family and friends, even strangers and enemies. Love makes you vulnerable. Love opens you to pain. Love makes you look fragile and foolish. And given the choice between the fragile old king (the prodigal’s father) and the strong young men... Let’s just say my existential taste buds are changing.