Dietrich Bonhoeffer was in London when he heard of Paul Schneider’s death. He gathered his nieces and nephews to tell them.

“Children, you must never forget the name of Paul Schneider. He is our first martyr.”

Schneider, like Martin Niemöller and Bonhoeffer himself, were members of the Confessing Church, pastors who would not bow the knee to Nazism, but confessed allegiance to Christ at any cost.

And Schneider was the first of them to seal his gospel witness with his blood.

To Rebuild a Heartbroken Humanity

At the end of World War I, Paul Schneider returned from the western front to a Germany in ruins. It changed the trajectory of his life. He had entered the army with plans to become a doctor. Now he was confronted with a brokenness that went beyond a doctor’s skill to heal. He recorded,

My discharge to the home front . . . found me determined to devote myself to the study of theology because here alone was power to rebuild a heartbroken nation and a heartbroken humanity.

As he prepared to graduate from divinity school, however, Schneider underwent a spiritual crisis. The demythologized gospel he had embraced did not leave him anything truly comforting to proclaim before a hurting people. He postponed his licensing exam and traveled to Berlin. There, in a city mission, Schneider encountered believers whose ministry was marked by the spiritual reality he desired.

Here there are people who claim that they not only know Jesus and seek to follow his teaching, but possess him as the living power of their lives. . . . Here I must say to myself, “You are not yet such a child of God.”

Through the witness of these evangelical believers, Schneider was confronted with his own need for new life. He pled,

May I step before the congregation tomorrow with the message of advent and the joy of advent? . . . Oh God in heaven, give me the gift of faith. . . . I have to put a question mark behind everything that I do. You, God, can pour out your Spirit of love on me so the question mark would turn into a joyous “Yes and Amen.”

God heard his prayer. His future wife confided in her diary, “Eternal life entered his soul, and he was filled with great joy.” Paul Schneider possessed Jesus Christ as the living power of his life.

Radiant Man of Truth

Enlivened by this experience of redemption, Schneider’s characteristic zeal was conscripted into the service of the full gospel. A friend described him as “a man of radiant warm-heartedness and a man of ultimate-truthfulness.” This vital blend was immediately apparent in his preaching. He no longer gave question marks empty of comfort or conviction; instead his sermons now resounded with calls to confess the biblical Christ and promises to salve suffering hearts. Preaching the glory of Christ in calming the storm, Schneider declared,

But now you are challenged to confess and bear witness dear evangelical church. . . . We are anxious and we are afraid. . . . We do not see how the poor, unprotected little boat of the church can be preserved among the powers and the forces of the world. But then we must remember; in this boat the Lord is with us and . . . soon he will be up!

Comforting Staff, Sweet Burden

Ordained in 1926, Schneider took over his father’s church in Hochelheim. With this income, he could bring home his “Gretel,” Margaret Dietrich. Paul and Margaret became a remarkable support for one another — “both a comforting staff and a sweet burden” — she wrote. In 1935, while he was detained by the Gestapo, she encouraged him,

I am satisfied with the decision you have made. I know well enough how something bothers you when you can’t do it wholeheartedly. You know that on the outside I can hold my own, but there are also tears I have not cried. May God give us both strength to walk in his ways.

Later, in 1937, he exhorted her from the concentration camp at Buchenwald,

I foresee a time when every sincere Christian will be compelled to openly confess and freely declare their faith. It will soon be your turn on account of our [six] children. . . . God will give you strength, my love, to do the right thing.

Witness of Pastor Schneider

The road to Buchenwald wound through several years of intensifying conflict with the Gestapo. They labeled his preaching of biblical truth “psychologically deviant” and recommended, “This man belongs in the concentration camps.” Of his two years in Buchenwald, Prisoner #2491 spent eighteen months in solitary confinement because he continued holding devotions in the barracks.

He confided to a camp orderly, “There is no spot on me that has not been beaten black and blue.” They sicced dogs on him, they beat him with bull whips, they fed him a regular diet of the cardiac depressant strophanthin, which eventually — with a huge dose — killed him. They gave Margarete 24 hours to collect the body, nailing his coffin shut so that she could not see what he had suffered.

Despite heavy observance by Nazi officials, Schneider’s funeral attracted hundreds of Confessing Church pastors and served as a rallying point for their boldness in proclamation. Four pillars of Schneider’s confession can likewise encourage us in our own Christian witness.

1. Take Strength in the Sovereignty of God

Drawing from Scripture, from Calvin’s theological writings, and from the Heidelberg Catechism, confidence in the sovereignty of God sustained this suffering pastor in the sacrifice of praise. Rather than put his hope in avoiding suffering, Schneider wrote, “Certainly we still live in this world, and with this suffering people, and also share its sufferings.” He continued, “But we have a commission and a calling from another world and our citizenship is there. And we know that in spite of everything, this world will one day be victorious. Therefore, we will be cheerful in tribulation.”

2. Navigate by the North Star of Scripture

Gretel wrote to Paul in prison to ask, “What do you do all day?” His reply was a window into his endurance in the truth: “I am a pupil in the school of God’s Word.” This prioritization of the biblical text marked his entire ministry. Viewed against the blitzkrieg of social, economic, and political changes contemporary with his pastorate, it is remarkable that every one of Schneider’s existing sermons is an exposition of the biblical text. Helmet Golwitzer calls this commitment to exegesis the “liberating effect of text sermons.”

The biblical text should not merely be a motto placed at the head of the sermon . . . but should be in concrete control of the preacher. The preacher’s subordination to this text frees him from all other authorities; from ecclesiastical authorities — that was the liberating experience of the Reformation, and from political authorities — that was the liberating experience at the time of Hitler’s dictatorship.

3. Draw Greater Strength from Deeper Joy

The Nazis deployed a program called Strength through Joy. This was an attempt to shear away the “weakness” bred by “fear of death and a bad conscience” inherent within a Judeo-Christian worldview. In its place, Nazism announced “a joyous message that liberated men from those things that burdened their life.”

Schneider reclaimed this idea of strength through joy, arguing that a superior strength was available to Christian believers because they could access a superior joy: “We know a joy that rests on the deepest foundation and has given hundreds of thousands of believing Christians the power to sacrifice their lives. . . . Our faith brings a greater joy and therefore a greater strength.” The Confessing Church was armed to out-rejoice — and therefore to overcome — the very ones who were killing them.

4. Settle on the Seriousness of Eternity

The conviction that exerted a formative impact on her husband’s ministry, Margarete remembered, was “his recognition that each individual can be lost for eternity.” The light of eternity provided a much-needed perspective before the Nazi demand that all Germans surrender their heavenly citizenship for a place in “the single, eternal life of this world.” Armed with an eternal perspective, Schneider refused to allow godless men, however powerful in his present moment, to define what the real church was, who the real Christ was, or how true love and unity behaved.

This weight of eternal lostness extended to the horror of the concentration camp. It sounded over the parade grounds, morning after morning, from a small window in solitary confinement. It was recorded by an inmate who found Margarete after the war in order to tell her what she needed to know, and would have already known, about her husband:

Every morning Schneider’s voice was heard ringing out loudly and clearly from the solitary confinement building, almost across the whole square, when tens of thousands had lined up for roll call: “Our Lord Jesus Christ came into the world to save us from our sins. If we have faith in him, we are put right with God.

We need not fear what man may do to us because we, through Christ, belong to the kingdom of God. . . . Our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, has promised that we, by faith in him, may participate in his resurrection. He said, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He that believes in me shall never die.’ Accept the Lord Jesus as your Savior, and God will receive you as his child.”

Copyright 2017, Desiring God.com-All rights reserved

When Silicon Valley’s 20-something techno-prodigies were awing the world with new, shiny, unveilings of iPods and then iPhones and then iPads, many of the inventors didn’t have kids. Few had teens. Now, most of them have kids, and many have teens — teenagers addicted to gadgets their parents birthed into the world years ago.

This is the story of Tony Fadell, a former Senior VP at Apple, known as the grandfather of the iPod, and a key player on the early design team for the iPhone. On the 10-year anniversary of the iPhone in an interview, he made this admission: “I wake up in cold sweats every so often thinking, what did we bring to the world?”

Fadell, a father of three, has come to see the addictive power of the iPhone, an addiction that cannot be removed. “I know what happens when I take technology away from my kids. They literally feel like you’re tearing a piece of their person away from them — they get emotional about it, very emotional. They go through withdrawal for two to three days.”

“This self-absorbing culture is starting to [really stink],” Fadell said. “Parents didn’t know what to do. They didn’t know this was a thing they needed to teach because we didn’t know for ourselves. We all kind of got absorbed in it.”

Yes — we all got absorbed — techies and teens and parents. All of us. And now we’re trying to figure out how to wisely manage our devices.

Teens, Smartphones, and Depression

Digital absorption has coincided with the fast-changing dynamics of public high school life. Last winter, I asked an assistant principal at a large Twin Cities high school (of more than 2,000 students) how her job has changed over the past two decades.

Much remains the same, she said. “But the one thing that has changed drastically in working with teenagers for over twenty years is the dependency they have now on the instant gratification and feedback from others. How many likes do I have? How many followers? And there’s a compulsion to put something online to see how many likes I can get. And if that wasn’t enough, what does it say about me?”

“There’s a really strong connection to this behavior and the increased mental health issues we’re seeing in the school,” she said. “Over the past three-to-five years I would say my job has changed the most, because we’re now dealing with so much more mental health. I don’t think it’s singularly because of technology, but I genuinely believe digital technology is a major factor. It changes everything from the way people relate with others to the way they see themselves.”

Destroying a Generation?

The cold sweats of Fadell and the eyewitness testimony of this assistant principal are captured in the haunting headline over a recent feature article published in The Atlantic, “Have Smartphones Destroyed a Generation?”

iGen is the new label for those roughly 12-to-22-year-olds, born between 1995 and 2005. Among them, the warning signs are prevalent. “Rates of teen depression and suicide have skyrocketed since 2011,” wrote author Jean Twenge of the struggles faced by the iGen-ers. “It’s not an exaggeration to describe iGen as being on the brink of the worst mental-health crisis in decades. Much of this deterioration can be traced to their phones.

“The more time teens spend looking at screens, the more likely they are to report symptoms of depression,” and, “girls have borne the brunt of the rise in depressive symptoms among today’s teens.” Twenge cites sources that show depression is on the rise among both boys and girls. For boys, depressive symptoms rose 21% between 2012–2015. In the same span, rates among girls increased by 50%. The rates of suicide for both increased, too. Male suicides doubled; female suicides increased threefold.

From what I know about these spikes in depression, and what I have discovered about the allure of our devices, what we are addressing here are existential questions about the meaning of life and acceptance from others — massive questions, weighing heavy on a young generation. These are redemptive questions, identity questions, gospel issues.

Digital media force a teen and preteen into the 24-7 pressure cooker of peer approval. But it’s not just teens; all of us feel this addictive draw of our social media. Smartphones seem to influence us all in at least 12 potent ways.

But the question here is pretty straightforward: Given these warning signs, is it possible for a teen to resist the powers of culture and go smartphone-free through the middle school and high school years?

Smartphone-Free Teens

I asked Jaquelle Crowe, the author of the excellent book, This Changes Everything: How the Gospel Transforms the Teen Years, that question. She provides us with a rare example of an iGen teen who postponed the adoption of a smartphone until age 18. I asked her what it was like to wait so long.

Jaquelle, thanks for your time to share your experience. Studies are beginning to suggest that rates of teen depression are on the rise, and there is no single factor to get all the blame. But the pervasiveness of smartphones among iGen teens has to be considered as a significant cause. Would this connection surprise you?

Absolutely not. Smartphones contribute significantly to the 24-7 approval culture we live in. There’s no escaping it. This is something our parents don’t always understand, because when they were teenagers, that culture was largely limited to the 9–3 school day, and then they retreated to the boredom of family life.

But now there’s 24-7 social media. There’s a constant comparison and peer approval game that cannot be escaped. And it’s crippling, exhausting, and undeniably stressful. You can’t get away from the likes, the shares, the texts, the pictures. It’s like the popularity contest never ends. And it works both ways. Your smartphone gives you a front-row seat to watch the popularity contest, too.

That is a powerful dynamic, hard to escape the popularity culture on both fronts (feeding it and watching it play out). You did not get a smartphone until you were 18, but you had friends with smartphones, right?

Yes, I did, and I was well aware that most of my peers had access to something I didn’t. I could name every friend who had a phone, simply because I would see their phone. If Alison got a phone, I knew about it. If Jared got a phone, I knew about it. Not because they flaunted it or shamed me, but because it was always around. Even if we were talking together, it would buzz or ping or they’d be fidgeting with it. If there was a pause, a moment of silence, a break, they’d be on their phones, and I’d be left in the lingering awkwardness and boredom.

It definitely fed my FOMO (fear of missing out). It fed into some insecurity. Even though my friends never made me feel weird for not having a smartphone, it was an expectation, so they were surprised when they discovered I didn’t have one. There were times when I was the outlier. And not only with friends but also with my generation at large. I’d be walking through the mall or waiting in line or stopped on the sidewalk, and I would look around, fully present and disconnected — and stare at a sea of teens glued to smartphones. I was an exception, and that felt uncomfortable.

At times, I felt lonely — even if I was surrounded by people. They were constantly connected and I was isolated. I felt confined by my lack of access. At the same time, those feelings were largely emotional and visceral because I agreed theoretically with my parents — that I didn’t need a phone right then.

I applaud your parents for this foresight and conviction. Most parents, I fear, simply cave to the pressure, as their teen caves to the pressure — a domino effect of pressures, and certainly one I feel as a parent. But it’s worth giving this decision critical thought, because introducing a fully functioning smartphone is a decision that cannot easily be undone. For you, how much trust does this call for on the part of a teen, to wait? It seems like you have to trust your parents more than your peers, and that’s a main struggle of the teen years.

It calls for trust, definitely. And connected to that, a willingness to submit and obey. Ultimately, it requires a recognition that your parents are actually looking out for your best interests — emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and physically — and that they know you better than your peers do.

The thing is, deep down, most teens know that. They just push back because not owning a smartphone makes them feel ashamed.

I assume you had access to a phone of some sort?

Yes. If I was going out, I’d often borrow my mom’s flip phone for emergencies. I almost never used it.

That’s wise. As for digital media, what did you have access to before the smartphone?

I had a computer, I had email, I had access to some social media. I technically could do everything from home. But in a digital world with an expanding reach, that still somehow seemed limited.

For sure. Speaking as a 20-year-old now, what would you say to parents who are weighing the pros/cons and reading all the news and the testimonies of parents of teens, and who are coming to the conclusion that delaying the smartphone in the life of their teen would be wise? What kind of pushback should they expect to hear from their teen?

To parents, I’d say: It is worth it to have your kids wait. I’ve seen it and heard it and can attest to it since I got my own smartphone — smartphones change you. They give you overwhelming and shocking access. They zap your attention span. They are massively addictive. You can (and should!) put up safeguards, but a smartphone fundamentally changes your heart and mind. If it’s possible for teens to delay that change, I think it is a wise consideration.

Teach your teens discipline and discernment before you entrust them with the dangers of a smartphone. Of course, smartphones are not inherently evil; they have the potential for great good. But they need to be wielded well.

If you’re making your teen wait, don’t delegitimize the painful exclusion they’ll feel but use this time to prepare them to use technology wisely and faithfully. In the hands of unprepared, immature teens, smartphones can be deadly.

As for pushback that a parent is sure to hear, teens will feel left out. That might make them frustrated, confused, lonely, or hurt, and if they lash out, that’s why. They might feel like they’re separated from their friends. They might feel the pain of peer pressure. They might fear missing out. They might even have some legitimate concerns (e.g., having a phone with them when they’re out by themselves).

Parents, in the face of this pushback, be willing to explain your reasoning. When your teens ask you, “Why can’t I have a smartphone?” they really don’t want you to say, “Because I told you so.” Even if they don’t agree with it, they will likely respect your willingness to reason with them and the depth of critical thought you’ve put into this.

Share your research with them. Introduce them to other teens (in person or online) who don’t have smartphones. Instead of treating them like a child (just saying, “No” and moving on), pursue thoughtful, honest dialogue with them. Allow them to keep the conversation going, and be willing to do the hard work of communication for the greater good of your relationship.

Very good. And perhaps we can close with what you would say directly to the teens in this scenario. What should they expect to face by way of internal and peer struggle?

To the teens who take this countercultural move, you are an outlier in your generation. Obedience in life requires avoiding every clingy weight that will trip you up in the Christian life (Hebrews 12:1). I can only encourage you to hold fast. It comes down to this. Hold fast.

Jesus is better than a smartphone. You will rehearse this truth over and over in your heart.

And when you feel burdened by exclusion and isolation, don’t despair. Your identity is not in fitting in or meeting superficial expectations. It’s in Christ alone. And he gives you one task: be faithful. Right now, that looks like obeying your parents and trusting their good intentions for you — and that may mean not having a smartphone for a time.

Don’t run from this reality in shame; embrace it in faith. Your joy is not found in cultural connectivity; it’s found in union with Christ. So hold fast, and be faithful. Your reward is coming and it is far greater than any loss you will feel in this life.

Often the love we need most is the love we want least. The love feels so harsh, so blunt, so unpleasant in the moment that we often don’t even recognize it as love.

My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him. For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives. (Hebrews 12:5–6)

Sometimes the Lord’s love for us feels like the opposite of love, but that’s only because we can’t see everything he sees. Behind the real pain he allows is an even more real love for those for whom he sent his Son (John 3:16).

The world would never call any kind of pain “love.” The world simply does not have categories for God doing whatever necessary to draw us to himself — his strength, his righteousness, his help, his peace. But his love for us explodes the world’s small categories and far surpasses its weak expectations.

How God Wounds

We see this kind of unexpected and painful love in Amos. God has done everything reasonable to awaken his people to their sin and to rescue them from their rebellion against him, but they simply will not relent.

He withheld food to make them hungry: “I gave you cleanness of teeth in all your cities, and lack of bread in all your places, yet you did not return to me” (Amos 4:6). God was willing to watch them hunger if that’s what it took for them to hunger for him, again.

He stopped the rain to make them thirsty: “I also withheld the rain from you when there were yet three months to the harvest; I would send rain on one city, and send no rain on another city; one field would have rain, and the field on which it did not rain would wither; so two or three cities would wander to another city to drink water, and would not be satisfied; yet you did not return to me” (Amos 4:7–8). God was willing to let them thirst if that’s what it took for them to thirst for righteousness.

He corrupted the fields to ruin their harvest: “I struck you with blight and mildew; your many gardens and your vineyards, your fig trees and your olive trees the locust devoured; yet you did not return to me” (Amos 4:9). God was willing to compromise his people’s livelihood if that’s what it took for them to look to him for all they needed.

Most devastating of all, he even killed their loved ones: One last time from Amos: “I sent among you a pestilence after the manner of Egypt; I killed your young men with the sword, and carried away your horses, and I made the stench of your camp go up into your nostrils; yet you did not return to me. . . . I overthrew some of you, as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah, and you were as a brand plucked out of the burning; yet you did not return to me” (Amos 4:10–11). God was willing even to see them die if that’s what it took for them to truly live.

Why, Lord?

He withheld food, “yet you did not return to me.” He withheld water, “yet you did not return to me.” He ruined the fields, “yet you did not return to me.” He even killed their loved ones, “yet you did not return to me.” God’s purpose was not destruction, but reconciliation. His motivation was not revenge, but compassion. He wasn’t wielding his power and justice mainly as punishment, but as invitation. In every ounce of suffering, he calls to his people, Come back to me.

We see this kind of love throughout the prophets. God is willing to withhold anything to bring his people home to himself. Again and again, the pain he allows is designed to lead us to comfort and hope and healing, not despair.

He allows us to suffer so that we would turn and receive compassion: “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon” (Isaiah 55:7). The pain may feel like God’s fierce anger in the moment, but it actually serves to reveal his warm compassion toward us. Joel writes, “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love; and he relents over disaster” (Joel 2:13).

So that we would return and be healed: “The Lord will strike Egypt, striking and healing, and they will return to the Lord, and he will listen to their pleas for mercy and heal them” (Isaiah 19:22). The Lord does take away. The Lord does strike. The Lord will tear. All that he may heal. Hosea sings, “Come, let us return to the Lord; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck us down, and he will bind us up” (Hosea 6:1).

So that we would return and be redeemed: “I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you” (Isaiah 44:22). When we return to the Lord, we don’t meet resistance or reluctance. This Father runs to receive his prodigal (Luke 15:20). We finally find redemption.

So that we would return and find rest: “Thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.’ But you were unwilling” (Isaiah 30:15). When we suffer, enduring disappointment or rejection, wrestling with disease or disability, losing someone we loved, we may want rest more than anything — rest from the pain, from the questions, from the doubt, from the anxieties. Tragically, many of us run away from God to try and find rest, when the suffering is designed to lead us into real rest with him. God hangs the same banner over every trial: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29).

So that we would return and rejoice: “The ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away” (Isaiah 35:10; 51:11). Satan prowls like a lion, waiting to devour the vulnerable. And because he preys on the weak and vulnerable, he often focuses on those who are suffering. The devil wants your life to be all sorrow and no joy, but God means for you to find deeper, more durable joy in your sorrow and suffering (2 Corinthians 6:10). When we begin to see all that God does for us through adversity, we not only learn to tolerate our weaknesses and afflictions, we “boast all the more gladly” in them (2 Corinthians 12:9).

So that we would return and have God: “I will give them a heart to know that I am the Lord, and they shall be my people and I will be their God, for they shall return to me with their whole heart” (Jeremiah 24:7). In the end, the sweetest gift God gives us when he wounds us is that he gives us more of himself. When we return to God, we get God (1 Peter 3:18). He is not some unnamed supernatural postman delivering what we need, and then being forgotten behind his gifts. He is the first and greatest gift he gives to any of us. And he is worth whatever we must lose or suffer to have him.

But If You Will Not Return

God pleads for his people to return — to come home — but the passage in Amos 4 ends ominously. The Lord himself warns Israel,

“Thus I will do to you, O Israel; because I will do this to you, prepare to meet your God, O Israel!” For behold, he who forms the mountains and creates the wind, and declares to man what is his thought, who makes the morning darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth — the Lord, the God of hosts, is his name! (Amos 4:12–13)

Whether we return to God or not when we’re wounded, we will meet him one day. The suffering we experience now is designed to bring us to him as a precious son or daughter. But if we refuse, we will meet him as an enemy, and our suffering will be far worse forever. An eternity apart from him, and against him, will make years of pain and heartache look strangely light and momentary by comparison.

Don’t be afraid to feel the pain in suffering, and to grieve the pain, but let it lead you to God, not away from him. He is wounding you with love, and pleading with you to run to him.

Copyright 2017, Marshall Segal Desiring God.org – All rights reserved 

Socialism is trending in the minds of many Americans. Some love it, some hate it, and others are indifferent to it. Some Christians argue that it’s evil, while others argue that it’s morally good or neutral. Those that argue for its wickedness often fail to condemn the crony capitalism and corporate welfare that is widespread in the United States; therefore, their arguments often fall on deaf ears with socialist sympathizers. The arguments for its moral good or neutrality typically appeals to emotion, rather than evidence, which is considered insufficient for those that oppose it.

The face that comes to mind when we think of socialism in this election cycle is that of Bernie Sanders — the self-proclaimed democratic socialist. But the reality is that forms of socialism have been a part of the fabric of America since the public school system (late 1800s) and FDR’s New Deal (1933–1938).

Martin Luther King rightfully critiques the state of the country during his life when he said,

This country has socialism for the rich, rugged individualism for the poor.

Furthermore, socialism is extremely difficult to pin down and most will agree that there are varying degrees of socialism. You’d be hard pressed to find a consensus on the Internet of what components embody a socialist government. But for my purposes here, I will use the definition provided by John Piper:

A social and economic system that through legal or governmental or military coercion — in other words, you go to jail if you don’t do this — establishes social ownership at the expense of private or personal ownership and/or you could say where coercion is used to establish social control — if not ownership, at least control of the means of production in society. And thus, through control, you effectively eliminate many of the implications and motivations of private ownership.

In other words, Socialism borrows the compassionate aims of Christianity in meeting people’s needs while rejecting the Christian expectation that this compassion not be coerced or forced. Socialism, therefore, gets its attractiveness at certain points in history where people are drawn to the entitlements that Socialism brings, and where people are ignorant or forgetful of the coercion and the force required to implement it — and whether or not that coercion might, in fact, backfire and result in greater poverty or drab uniformity or, worse, the abuse of the coercion as we saw in the murderous states like USSR and Cambodia.

Few question whether those who advocate for socialistic forms of government have good intentions. They clearly seem to care about the poor. Some, like Senator Sanders, want to fight much of the corruption that is currently in Washington. But as the saying goes, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions” (though, no, I’m not here condemning anyone to hell). In other words, the good intentions of “social programs” (a term I will continue to use below) will have unexpected bad consequences in the long run.

I Was Something Like a Socialist

If you had asked me in college what I thought about socialism, I would have said it was an attractive idea. While I was mostly indifferent to politics (this will be the first presidential election I’ve voted in), I considered myself conservative on issues like abortion but liberal on issues such as government assistance or social programs. I was what some would call a moderate. I had no problem with a system that called for the government to give money to the needy and less fortunate. But my understanding of economics, politics, the human heart, and the consequences of ideas was extremely limited. I was chasing a kind of utopia — a heaven on earth.

Growing up in one of the poorest counties in the poorest state of the republic, most of the people I knew received some type of government assistance. For some families, it was a crutch. But for others, it was a stepping-stone, and the assistance was temporary. The biggest difference I noticed between the two groups was that the latter possessed Christian values of hard work and familial support, while the former simply didn’t. Because of this, the former’s cycle of poverty continued, while the latter ended theirs within one or two generations.

My family was one of the households that recieved government assistance. I’ll give you a peek into my background. My grandmother helped raised me and along with my mother and aunts, instilled a lot of good values in my cousins and me at an early age. Though my grandmother only received an eighth grade education and grew up in complete poverty, by the grace of God, she is the reason the poverty cycle was eliminated in one generation. She not only taught us the value of hard work but she modeled it.

Every morning she woke up before dawn, exercised, labored in her garden in the Mississippi sun, read her Bible, and prayed. But her work wasn’t done. I never missed a meal, the house was always spotless, and the lawn was always well kept. She put two children through college (my mom is one them) and helped raise a bunch of grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Everything that she did was motivated by what she believed the Bible taught. She loves her family and sacrificed so much to make sure we had opportunities and privileges she didn’t have. Even today, I recognize our family is reaping the benefits of her labors more than our own. My labors alone couldn’t have gotten me where I am today.

Don’t Demonize the Recipients

As my grandmother and other recipients of social programs reveal, it is unquestionably false that everyone who benefits from social programs are lazy and will remain lazy. But it is equally false that social programs are essential to bringing families out of poverty or are necessary for a thriving society.

Despite the good they seem to do in some cases, I can’t in good conscience embrace them as a necessary means to escaping poverty. In my experience, I’ve witnessed it hinder more families than it has helped. We give social programs too much credit and the importance of family and faith too little. As a matter of fact, some economists assert that it was during the welfare state the condition of a particular group of its recipients began to decelerate. As the black economist Thomas Sowell pointed out:

The black family, which had survived centuries of slavery and discrimination, began rapidly disintegrating in the liberal welfare state that subsidized unwed pregnancy and changed welfare from an emergency rescue to a way of life.

Sowell continues to attack the myth that social programs improved the conditions of blacks in America:

The economic rise of blacks began decades earlier, before any of the legislation and policies that are credited with producing that rise. The continuation of the rise of blacks out of poverty did not — repeat, did not — accelerate during the 1960s. The poverty rate among black families fell from 87 percent in 1940 to 47 percent in 1960, during an era of virtually no major civil rights legislation or anti-poverty programs.

Evidence seems to suggest that the families that have eliminated the poverty cycle while on social programs would have very likely done the same without the programs. While there have been numerous instances of grave injustices towards minority groups in our country that have hindered progress (slavery, Jim Crow), social programs don’t seem to be the cause of any significant improvements.

Therefore, I want to humbly provide three practical reasons, based on my Christian worldview, why more social programs could actually substitute the family, empower the government, and hinder the church.

1. Social programs substitute the family.

The family unit is essential to a healthy society. It is in the best interest of the government to defend family values for the protection of children as well as the mental and emotional health of future generations. Scripture is clear that the family is an institution of God, and he is deeply concerned for its wellbeing.

Scripture is also clear that it is the responsibility of the family, not the government, to take care of its members. Paul’s instructions in 1Timothy 5:8 are clear: “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” Earlier in the text, Paul is adamant that widows who have children should not be enrolled into the care of the church.

Social programs often deceive families into believing that due to government assistance, they no longer have a responsibility to care for their family members. I remember sitting in the barbershop listening to a young man vent because his elderly mother wasn’t receiving any government assistance.

He obviously cared deeply for his mother. But he didn’t see it as his responsibility to care for her. This grieved me deeply, but I understood where he was coming from. Just a few years ago I would have given him an “amen” about how messed up the system was. But based on my worldview, I no longer believe that it’s the government’s job to take care of my parents. It’s my responsibility according 1 Timothy 5 and Ephesians 6:2.

When we depend on the government to take care of our family, we’re commissioning the government to take money from other citizen’s hard-earned income and give it to our family. How? The government doesn’t generate profit apart from its citizens. Every single dime the government receives comes out of what otherwise would be the wages of its citizens. Therefore, my wife and I have vowed to take responsibility for our parents in their old age, no matter the cost.

Today, the country of Sweden has been presented as a picture of a successful democratic socialist country. But one young man who grew up in Sweden begs to differ. Sebastian Bjernegård, a citizen of Sweden, now living in America, sent me his thoughts on democratic socialism in Sweden. He comments on how power government affects the family,

When government gets too powerful, the family and the church are viewed as secondary to the state. The government presumes it knows what is best for your kids. Soon homeschooling becomes illegal.

Sweden has become one of the most secular countries in the world. The expanse of socialism is often followed by an expanse of secularism. Recently, an article argued that children should have their own right to decide what religion they want to believe in (if they want to), so parents should not be able to force their children to go to church. This belief is now widely held amongst the people I know in Sweden.

As social programs increase, so does government power. Then familial provision and authority inevitably decrease.

2. Social programs empower the government.

As Bjernegård explains, social programs empower the government. There is a clear correlation between dependence and power. For an example of this, look no further than the relationship between the parent and the child.

Generally, children are inclined to obey their parents because very early on children recognize that they are wholly dependent on and at the mercy of their parents. They recognize that mommy and daddy give them food and have the power to either take away or buy them new toys. They realize mommy and daddy have the authority to discipline them when they disobey. They even adopt their parents’ moral system as children, even if only for a temporary period of time. Some children even retain a certain amount of loyalty to their parents once they’re older, standing by their parents even when the parent might be wrong. Here, we clearly see the power of provision.

Not convinced? Observe the relationship between the employee and employer. The employee is dependent upon the employer to make a living — pay bills, make rent, and buy food. Therefore, the employee is motivated to obey his or her employer in order to survive. Due to the dependents’ reliance on the providers, the providers are empowered. Consequently, compromises are made by the dependents because of the power possessed by their providers.

This same relationship exists between the government and beneficiaries of social programs. The benefactors depend on the government for survival, or at least extra income. The institution of the family could become irrelevant and the motivation to work is potentially eroded. Suddenly, programs become “rights” rather than a way out of poverty. The crutch that was meant to be temporary becomes a permanent means of survival. Alexis de Tocqueville rightly observed,

It’s not an endlessly expanding list of rights — the “right” to education, the “right” to healthcare, the “right” to food and housing. That’s not freedom, that’s dependency. Those aren’t rights, those are the rations of slavery — hay and a barn for human cattle.

The government becomes master and the recipients become dependents and slaves. In order to keep their rations, compromise is not only necessary but also inevitable. The party that promotes the social programs the dependents deem appropriate and just, this is the group’s morality the dependents either accept or tolerate. Like children, they eventually stop thinking for themselves and completely lean upon the government for understanding.

Fredrick Douglass appropriately argues,

To make a contented slave, you must make a thoughtless one. It is necessary to darken his moral and mental vision, and, as far as possible, to annihilate his power of reason. He must be able to detect no inconsistencies in slavery. The man that takes his earnings must be able to convince him that he has a perfect right to do so. It must not depend upon mere force; the slave must know no Higher Law than his master’s will. The whole relationship must not only demonstrate, to his mind, its necessity, but its absolute rightfulness.

The government has become God when we believe that there is no higher law. This is extremely dangerous when we know from history that the government (and the Supreme Court) has upheld morally repulsive laws. But too often Christians use passages like Romans 13 as an excuse to sit idly by and accept government actions, even though they are unjust. When we do this, we are submitting to the government as the “higher law.”

For example, while the Bible commands us to pay our taxes, it likewise teaches us that a worker deserves his wages. Does this mean we should rebel, or neglect to pay our taxes, when we believe the tax system is unjust? Not necessarily. However, we shouldn’t passively accept unjust tax programs that misuse the resources we’ve earned. If we live in a “free society,” then, we should take a stand on our constitutional givens to pressure our leaders to represent us in our nation’s capital.

Furthermore, the money we recover in a just or righteous tax program should be used to care for the needs of our fellow saints, our neighbors, and for the glory God, rather than our own lusts and carnal desires. We’re all guilty of the latter. I know I am. Christians don’t fight for low tax rights to store up treasures on earth, but to invest in our neighbors and fellow laborers for the advancement of the gospel.

Ultimately, a good government should encourage good behavior and discourage bad. At most, I think it’s appropriate for the government to reward those who perform acts of charity in their local communities and penalize those who do evil. Unfortunately, our government has become so morally bankrupt that often what is evil is rewarded as if it were good (abortion). Forms of socialism seems to do the opposite and over a period of time labels acts of loves as God given rights. This is destructive to the nation and her citizens.

3. Social programs hinder the church.

In the interview mentioned above, John Piper addressed the subject of socialism. He began with a statement that bears repeating:

In the church no one should go hungry. No one should be without a place to stay. No one should fail to get the healthcare they need. No one should go without a job if it is possible for believers to help them find one. And so on. All of this should happen through the free and uncoerced help of other believers.

When Luke writes in Acts 2:44–45, “All who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need,” what he means is that every need was being met by other believers, even if they had to sell things that they owned in order to help meet them — and this was done freely. It didn’t remove, but rather presumed, the ownership of private property.

Churches that spend their money on bigger buildings, more technology, and private jets for the pastor, and neglect the needs of their members, are an affront to the gospel. A widow with three kids and no relatives should never have to go the to the government for assistance. Her burden should be the church’s burden. A Christian family in need of healthcare should never have to depend on a government’s universal healthcare program.

They should be able to go to their churches and other Christians for help. There are several Christian healthcare sharing programs that exist as great alternatives to insurance that provide you with the funds you need to get good healthcare and an opportunity to give to the needs of others.

Some will counter, “This may be ideal, but it is wishful thinking.” The same can be said about socialism, which is man’s attempt to address poverty. But what about God’s divine authority? The Christian should never consider a man-made system as practical but the revelation of God idealistic. 

God Cares for the Poor

Scripture clearly teaches that God cares for the poor and expects his people to be just as concerned (Deuteronomy 15:4–5). If we only talk about how much we hate forms of socialism but never discuss biblical alternatives that address the problems socialism attempts to address, as one inner city pastor wrote to me, we “lose massive moral foundation from which to speak.”

The government is a good and necessary institution, but God has a lot more to say about church and family. History shows that faith in government can’t bring authentic change. Those who place their hope in government are no different than those who place their hope in horses and chariots (Psalm 20:7).

Some may object that my view only transfers power from the government to the church and family. They are correct. But that power is limited. The family only has power over the members of its household. The church’s power is limited to its members and is voluntarily submitted to. If a family is abusive, in a free society with a limited government, the child can one day leave. If a church is unbiblical, members are free to leave and find another congregation or walk away from the faith completely. But if a government becomes too powerful, its power has no limits. It can interfere with the family and church. In some cases, its citizens are trapped, unable to even leave the country.

Social programs are a slippery slope that could lead to unjust governments, more broken homes, and dead churches. Therefore, I simply can’t embrace them. A free society under a just government gives us plenty of options. We love our neighbours by starting non-profits, building hospitals, and opening schools that address the needs of the people without using the force of the government. What I’m proposing is not easy, but it is a biblical alternative that will require sacrifice, vision, newfound conviction, and a radical shift in how we view church, family, and government.

Imagine a nation where Christians didn’t use the force of government to impose unnecessary laws (temperance movement) on unbelievers or to create a theocracy by force, but loved their neighbors through truth (spreading the gospel) and mercy (meeting their needs). I dream of a country where Christians lead the nation in acts of mercy — loving and caring for the least of these. Since “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8), we should sacrifice for and die to ourselves, not only for other Christians, but unbelievers as well.

Phillip Holmes served as a content strategist at desiringGod.org. He’s married to Jasmine. They have a son. Copyright 2017, Phillip Holmes -Desiring God-All rights reserved. Image courtesy: The Economic Collapse

We value speed today far more than we realize, and that makes the painfully slow process of our sanctification and personal transformation confusing and frustrating.

We live in an era of such rapid technological advancement and in a society that so values efficiency, productivity, and immediate results that we can hardly help but assume that the faster things happen, the better. Therefore, we often don’t value the precious benefits of slow growth.

Speed Shapes Us

For most of human history, most people’s lives were mapped on to the relatively slow cyclical rhythms of the seasons. Life was demanding and difficult because it had a primary, and at times ruthless, focus on subsistence, and so was largely dictated by the annual migration patterns of fish and herd animals, plant and fruit cultivation and harvesting, rainy seasons, and available sunlight.

One of the things this did was produce and reinforce in the minds of people, because of sheer necessity, an understanding and valuing of slow, incremental progress toward an aimed-for reward. Food, clothing, and housing were obtained through arduous, sustained effort and care.

In America, this has all but disappeared from living memory. For generations now, a superabundance and wide variety of food has been available and largely affordable a relatively short distance from nearly every home — prepared, packaged, and FDA-approved. We do not have to work nearly as hard, nor do we spend nearly the percentage of our annual income on food, water, and shelter as our ancestors did.

On the whole, these have been immense blessings. But our abundance and increasing conveniences on every level have shaped — and in some ways warped — the way we view time. We now expect that nearly everything should happen fast and with little or no inconvenience.

Slow Growth

But factors that are most beneficial in fueling productivity and economic growth and improved bodily health of individuals and cities are not necessarily factors that are most beneficial in fueling the spiritual growth and health of individual souls or churches.

God created us as organisms, not machines. There are millions of reasons why the fullness of time when God sent forth his Son occurred in the first century (Galatians 4:4). But one reason was so that the Son would frequently use agricultural metaphors to illustrate spiritual truths. Think of the parables of the sower (Matthew 13:1–9), the wheat and weeds (Matthew 13:24–30), and the mustard seed (Matthew 13:31–32). Think of metaphors of the fruit-bearing trees (Matthew 7:16–18), the vine and branches (John 15:1–8), and the reaping of souls as a harvest (Matthew 9:37–38; John 4:35–38). And Jesus’s apostles also used such metaphors, for instance spiritual fruit (Galatians 5:22–23) and fields (1 Corinthians 3:6–9).

Something that the original hearers of these parables and metaphors would have intuitively understood, because of their familiarity with agricultural processes, is their gradual, progressive nature. Many of us probably miss the meaning because the processes are so foreign to us. Christians are slow-grown, and fruit-bearing typically comes after an arduous time of maturation.

The same goes for churches. There’s a reason we call the process of starting of new churches “church planting” and not “church manufacturing.” We admire stories of explosive church growth, just like we admire stories of explosive business growth. That’s not wrong, but it is not typical. And even what looks like a sudden harvest is usually due to an unseen, prolonged season of arduous sowing and watering and cultivation (John 4:35–38).

Benefits of Slow Growth

God designed us to develop habits of obedience and holiness slowly and incrementally because the process teaches and trains us to live by faith rather than by our often inaccurate perceptions and emotions. The waiting teaches us to trust more in the truth of what God says than the impulses of what we see or how we feel.

The long-term beneficial effect of slow, incremental transformation through the exercise of habit rather than impulse develops, over time, deeper, richer, more complex and nuanced affections for God, and integrates our beliefs into our whole being. There are things I am just beginning to really grasp now, well into middle age, that I didn’t appreciate when I was younger.

God’s ways with us may not seem efficient to us. We might even think they are needlessly slow and inefficient. But none of God’s ways are needless, and God is not slow; he’s patient (2 Peter 3:9).

And he wants us to learn patience, too — it’s one of his slow-growing spiritual fruits (Galatians 5:22). Don’t be discouraged with your slow growth or with your church’s. Determine to “dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness” (Psalm 37:3 NASB). And bear in mind the broader principle captured in Jesus’s words to Peter: “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand” (John 13:7).

Examine the forces that shape your expectations. Do not let wrong assumptions fuel your discouragement or disillusionment. Your Christian life and your Christian church is much more like patient, faithful, slow farming than modern, efficient manufacturing. Trust your divine Farmer, your Vinedresser. He has very good reasons for maturing Christians and churches slowly, and not mass-producing them more quickly.

Copyright 2017, Desiring God.com–All rights reserved

If I could save time in a bottle,The first thing that I’d like to do Is to save every day till eternity passes away, Just to spend them with you.

In 1972, Jim Croce was a young singer/songwriter just beginning to ride the wave of national stardom. He was also a young father whose heart was full of love for his one-year-old boy.

Jim’s music career demanded him being away from his son more than he was with him, which was hard. He could feel the brief, unretrievable time he had to enjoy his wonderful child whipping by. So Jim expressed his parental longing in his touching song, “Time In a Bottle.”

In the song’s chorus, he expressed an angst we all understand:

There never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do Once you find them.

Jim knew he didn’t have an eternity of time with his boy. But he had less time than he knew. On September 21, 1973, Jim died in a plane crash. He was 30 years old.

Numbering Our Days

The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away. (Psalm 90:10)

To give us some perspective on how brief our grass-like lives are, Moses compares our time with God’s:

For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night. (Psalm 90:4)

A thousand years are like yesterday. Perhaps Peter was paraphrasing Moses when he wrote, “with the Lord . . . a thousand years [is] as one day” (2 Peter 3:8).

So, let’s think about this. If we live 70 years, our days will be 25,500. Or “if by reason of strength” we live 80 years, our days will be 29,200. As I write this, I have lived just over 18,900 days. John Piper’s lived just over 25,900. Steve Jobs’ days were just under 21,000. Jim Croce’s just over 11,200.

Now, think about it like this. If 1,000 of our years are like one day to God, then a person who dies at age 80 only lives 8% of one God-day. That’s less than two hours in one twenty-four-hour day. That’s short.

But if we use Moses’s “night watch” metaphor, our comparative lives are even shorter. In Moses’s day, a watch in the night was three hours. So if 1,000 of our years are like 3 hours to God, then an 80-year life span is less than 15 minutes of one God-day. Jim Croce lived five minutes.

How many minutes do think you have? You don’t know. And no matter how many you have, they aren’t many.

God Must Teach Us

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)

Numbering our days is not enough. We need God, the author of life, to teach us what numbering our days really means. We need God to teach us what our few days are for, so we steward them well. Then we will have a heart of wisdom.

The Heart of Wisdom

What exactly is wisdom? God tells us through Job: “the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom” (Job 28:28).

And what exactly is the fear of the Lord? God tells us through Solomon: “The fear of the Lord is hatred of evil” (Proverbs 8:13).

And what is evil? God tells us through the author of Hebrews: “an unbelieving heart” (Hebrews 3:12). At root, all moral evil is unbelief in God and any action that results from it, for “whatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (Romans 14:23).

So then, a heart of wisdom fears the Lord to such a degree that it refuses to exchange the truth about God for a lie (Romans 1:25). A heart of wisdom trusts God’s promises and his wise governance over all of life, and does not trust its limited, fickle perceptions, nor shiny, empty worldly deceptions.

A heart of wisdom fears losing the joy-producing treasure of God himself so much, it sees unbelief as a thief who only steals, kills, and destroys life.

The Reward of Wisdom

Earthly life is short, perhaps far shorter that we expect. It’s too short to waste trying to do all the things we want to do.

We must not just number our days; we must ask God to teach us to number our days. Because if we number them on our terms, we will likely grab for life in food or clothes (Matthew 6:25), or “bucket list” experiences, or career achievements, or even loved ones, only to find in the end that life wasn’t in any of those things or people. Our numbering won’t produce a heart of wisdom.

If we want to “take hold of that which is truly life” (1 Timothy 6:19), we must take hold of eternal life, “and this life is in [God’s] Son” (1 John 5:11). “Life is Christ” (Philippians 1:21), and “whoever believes in the Son has eternal life” (John 3:36). Which is why the one great work God wants us to focus on is that we believe in his Son (John 6:29).

A heart of wisdom is a heart that learns that life is not how much we can earn, achieve, or experience in our few days of life on earth; life is wholeheartedly trusting the Life (John 14:6). A heart of wisdom learns that the only thing that wastes life is unbelief.

And the reward of a heart of wisdom is eternity, where there is no need to bottle time, where there will be an abundance of time to do the things we want to do, and a God-provided bucket list so long it will take an eternity to complete.

Copyright 2017, Jon Bloom Desiring God.com

I visited a man on his death bed yesterday. I left confused.

This man had no relationship with Jesus, no interest in the gospel, yet no fear of death. His only desire was to ease his physical pain and die without a struggle. I couldn’t understand it. Really? No fear of death at all?

The first time I remember seeing a dead body was when I was eight. I was terrified! It was my stepmother’s body in a casket. My mother died giving birth to me, so this was the woman that I knew as mom. Seeing her lifeless body scared me. The whole concept of death confused me and gave me a sick feeling. There was nothing casual about it.

Seeing my dad in a casket four years later brought the same kind of fear and sobriety.

Forty years later, I still get deeply disturbed at funerals. Whenever I see a dead body, I inevitably think, That will be me soon. Then all sorts of uncomfortable thoughts follow.

Wisdom Ponders Death

I understand that Christians should not fear death. Jesus died and rose from the grave, therefore death has lost its “sting” (1 Corinthians 15:55–56). But just because the fear subsides, it doesn’t mean we are left feeling indifferent. Death has a way of jolting us into seriousness. Don’t you still get an eerie or maybe even sick feeling when you think about your own death?

Some of it is just trying to grasp something so foreign to us: the separation of the soul from the body. We are unable to fathom existing apart from the only body we’ve known. The other troubling mystery is trying to imagine what we will first see and experience after death. What will it be like when we first see a heavenly being or God himself?

Death is not an easy thing to meditate on, but the wise person will think about death often.

Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)

When was the last time you prayed that prayer? A wise man thinks about his death often, and the fool ignores it. This is why the enemy keeps us from thinking and talking about death. And this is why we must work to keep the brevity of life on the forefront of our minds.

Next week, one of my friends is going to court. There is a chance that he will be sentenced to several years in prison. As you can imagine, it is hard for him to think about anything else. As much as he will try to have a “normal” week, I’m pretty sure his mind will be preoccupied with what the judge is going to say.

Shouldn’t we also be preoccupied with our upcoming day in God’s court? The Bible says that one day we will stand before a Judge who is referred to as a “Consuming Fire” (Hebrews 12:29). Unbelievably, some will go their whole lives without ever considering what this moment will be like.

Ignoring Death Leads to Ignorance

I can only imagine how you as a reader are responding at this point. This may be the first time someone has encouraged you to think deeply about death and judgment. We are unaccustomed to conversations about death.

Our society goes to incredible lengths to hide the inevitable reality of death from us. It is considered intrusive or even rude to ask others to think about their deaths. Inevitably someone will quickly change the subject once it gets too serious or solemn. But should we?

It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. (Ecclesiastes 7:2)

It is better to go to a funeral than a party? The fact that you’ve never heard this expression in conversation reveals just how far our society is from biblical wisdom.

I have performed many funerals. It’s not uncommon to see crowds go out drinking immediately following the service. It is their way to “move on” and not dwell on the severity of the situation.

Others may not get drunk, but they find other ways to intoxicate themselves — heading back to work, going to a movie, laughing, talking, texting, getting on social media. People will do anything to avoid thinking about the only thing that matters. Reality is right there before their eyes, but they’ll desperately pursue any alternative to facing the facts.

The Bible shows that ignoring death leads to ignorance.

The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. (Ecclesiastes 7:4)

The wise man doesn’t quickly move past funerals. His heart lingers in a state of mourning. The fool tells jokes as soon as the funeral ends, not realizing the damage it does to his soul. Fools do whatever is easiest.

Eating pie is easy, but kale takes effort. The things that build us up require intentionality and work. Contemplating death takes work; watching a typical movie does not. The wise man makes time to think about serious issues. The hard work of mourning builds up the wisdom of the heart.

Linger in the House of Mourning

When I was in seminary, I learned that “the heart” refers to the mission-control center of our bodies. It is the seat of decision-making. This is why you and I make wiser decisions after our hearts spend time in the house of mourning. I tend to make good decisions at funerals and poor ones in restaurants. I have made wise financial decisions while surrounded by starving children, and poor decisions from the suburbs. We need to keep our hearts close to the house of mourning to avoid decisions we will regret.

As difficult as it is, we need to be mindful of death. We must make decisions with our day of death in mind. Please, please, please consider spending just ten minutes in solitude today, meditating about your own funeral. Imagine standing before a God who “dwells in unapproachable light” (1 Timothy 6:16).

But don’t stop there. Perhaps ponder some major life decisions after meditating on death. Your heart, the seat of decision-making, will then be better conditioned to decide where to live, what to drive, and which shoes to buy.

© Copyright 2016, Francis Chan, Desiring God Foundation

Image credit: Desiring God