The Other Hazards

The Other Hazards

A View From The Pew
by Gerry Hunter

There are occasions, like the current times in the pews in New Westminster, when the Lord calls upon us to pass through dangerous places. Some of the hazards we face in these places are plain enough to give the places their name, as do mines in the case of a minefield. Others are implicit in the definition of the terrain, as is drought in the case of a desert. But another implicit hazard exists in assuming that the plain hazards are the only hazards, or at any given time are the most immediate ones. The obvious hazards are, at least, the known ones, whereas the effects of the less obvious ones can take the faithful in the pews unawares. For that reason, it is good to reflect on these less obvious hazards that we can encounter in dangerous places.

One of the most attractive people in the Old Testament, to my mind, is Amos. Not surprisingly, perhaps, I also hold the message he delivered in especially high esteem. Amos was, among other things, a strong advocate for the KISS approach. He had a difficult time of it. In his own prophetic words, "They hate him who reproves in the gate, and they abhor him who speaks the truth" (Amos 5:10). But hated or not, he bore his burden, and discharged his duty. And he left a clear message for the people in the pews for these times when they must navigate minefields and cross deserts.

Crossing a minefield is hazardous enough simply because there are landmines there. One of the additional hazards that people in the pews have to deal with on a risky crossing is that of complicating things. This is a counterproductive activity. In the words of the billboard, "What part of 'thou shalt not' don't you understand?" The propensity to complicate has a rich expression in our day and age. If it didn't, not nearly so many Anglican bishops would be raking in royalties hand over fist from their books that clearly documented their inability to grasp those three simple words. But sell those books do, providing a vivid witness to humanity's inborn weakness when it comes to resisting the urge to make things complicated.

Amos never seems to have succumbed. He got his message across with simple but powerful images. In chapter 7, the showed us just a wall, a plumbline, and the Lord who measured it in a way we can all understand in the pews. Amos's thanks from his hearers in the establishment? Vilification, mostly. It's doubtful that the folks with their hands on the power levers ever invited him to the equivalent of their planning sessions, cocktail parties, or charity galas. All they wanted from him was for him to get lost -- "go, flee away." (7:12) Thankfully, his message and KISS example still came down to us today, in the pews.

So taking my lead from Amos, I'm going to look at some of the other less obvious hazards we face, and do so as directly as I can. And the first one I want to look at is the admonition, "Don't go there." This one, thanks to the urge to complexity, is seldom stated that simply. Typically, the people in the pews are warned of dire financial or legal consequences that could befall them. Those, of course, are like the landmines. We know about them in the pews, just as the Hebrews leaving Egypt knew about the heat and drought in the desert. Curious, isn't it, that heat and drought turned out to be the least of their problems on their journey. But "Don't go there" almost brought that journey to a halt.

Numbers 13 records that Moses sent a man from each tribe to spy out Canaan. The verdict, by an 11 -- 1 vote, was "Don't go there." But the one vote was Caleb. His message, to trust in the Lord, and go where He bid, prevailed. Of the 12 spies, only Caleb saw the Promised Land. In the pews, we must ever be watchful of those who tell us "Don't go there," no matter the hazards they may report.

Another hazard we face is politicization. Chapter 21 of Jaques Ellul's book "Living Faith" should be required reading for everyone who seeks to influence events on a journey the Lord has clearly set before his faithful people. Ellul makes it plain: "Politics is the contemporary image of absolute evil. It is satanic, diabolical, the home base of the demonic. ... Politics is the acquisition of power: the means necessary for getting it, and once you have it the means of defending yourself against the enemy and holding on to it." Politicization, whether the overt formation of factions, or using political methods to protect the interests of ones already in place, is more deadly than any buried explosive device in a minefield. Cloaking itself as a way to accomplish a worthwhile goal, its true danger is easily missed. As Ellul points out, "But what does one use it for -- for goodness and virtue? No, one uses it for power; it's an end in itself. And that's all there is to politics." In the pews, we must ever beware of those who politicize, or use the methods of politics, to direct us through the hazards. For goodness and virtue, two of the faithful's greatest strengths, are inimical to politics and its methods.

We will soon commemorate the crucifixion of our Lord and Savior. (The faithful Christian never skips straight to the Resurrection.) He gave His life, but the pretext for taking it was politics. Caiaphas, the high priest, makes that clear. John 11:49 -- 50 records the analysis of politics: "You know nothing at all; you do not understand that it is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish." Let no one confuse the message of politics with the message of Jesus, who bid that his disciples be free to go on his arrest, "to fulfill the word that had been spoken, 'Of those thou gavest me I lost not one'." (John 18:9). Politics gave the pretext to put Jesus on a cross then, and it can put knives between shoulder blades today before anyone has fallen victim to an obvious hazard.

Related to the hazard of politics is the hazard of the urge to be controlling. This is a subtle hazard. There has to be organization and coordination to cope with unknown hazards. But here we have one of those instances where the desire for a thing can be the hazard, while a thing itself is neutral. In his seminal essay, "The Inner Ring," C.S. Lewis used the example of an inheritance. In itself, it is a morally neutral thing, but the desire for it can be a hazard. The desire of the heir for the prospective benefactor to get along with what is needed for the inheritance to occur is not seen as a right one. The law, Lewis also notes, takes in very dim view of action aimed at hastening the occurrence by so much as a second. The desire to control is very much like that, and it can lead to very bad things.

A common manifestation of the control hazard occurs when it couples with politics in "managing" information. Whether by withholding it inappropriately, disseminating parts of it selectively, suppressing it, or distorting it, forthrightness and honesty often do poorly when confronted with a desire for control. There is nothing new here, at all. At 1 Kings 22:13, the story of Micaiah begins. When, we are told, everyone else was saying words that were "favorable to the king," Micaiah boldly declared, "As the Lord lives, what the Lord says to me, that I will speak." (This is a costly choice to make, for we read, in verse 24,Micaiah got slugged for making it.) In the pews in dangerous times, there is real peril from the urge to control, particularly when it couples with politics to manage information. It can lead to delusion and magnify all other dangers. But we know the Lord's standards here in the pews, and our best course is clearly to insist that the standards are upheld, and raise the alarm when we see they are not.

What do these hazards have in common, apart from their lack of immediate prominence? All of them involve approaching a spiritual problem as if it were a worldly difficulty. Making things complicated is not only worldly, it is a virtual spark plug of the secular economy. (I have a favorite slide I use as a screen saver. It proclaims: "Consulting: If you're not part of the solution, there's money to be made in compounding the problem.") In a confrontation, the world urges compromise. Even at the prospect of a confrontation, we are urged, "Don't go there." Political approaches and methods to dealing with a situation are so pervasive we would never be able to count the studies, the committees, the white papers, the briefs, and the broken bodies that are produced on an ongoing basis, while nothing much gets done. Control is regularly grasped for. And as far as the world is concerned, information IS power.

Our duty in the pews is clear. We must never forget that our hazards of primary concern are spiritual, and that these and any other hazards are immensely magnified the moment we lose sight of that reality. Worldly concerns must never take precedence. Where we see complexity, we must call for a plain proclamation of the spiritual truth involved. When politics insinuates itself, it must be purged and replaced by Biblical Christian principles. The urge to control must give way to the call to submit and obey in faith. We must insist that the truth be told, no matter how much it hurts. And we must never accept a temporal solution for a spiritual problem and settle for compromise as a suitable substitute for standing firm, faithful, and if necessary confrontational witness.

The obvious hazards are real, and must be dealt with. But in the pews, we know we are in grave peril if the less obvious hazards are missed, or through hubris, ignored. By the power of the Holy Spirit, Amos never made that mistake. By the same power, we in the pews must not make it either.