28 April 2020

Conspiracy Theories and the Believer

If ever there was a man who had a right to believe in conspiracy theories, it was David during the years that he was forced to evade King Saul's attempts to kill him. I was minding my own business teaching an online class recently, when we ran into the following verses:

"Now an evil spirit of the LORD came upon Saul as he was sitting in his house with his spear in his hand. And David was playing music by hand. Then Saul sought to pin David to the wall with the spear, but he escaped from Saul’s presence; and he drove the spear into the wall..." (1 Sam. 18:9-10)

As a student of mine noted, the coming of this spirit was not because the Lord actually wanted to get rid of David, neither was he apathetic to David's fate. Rather, he allowed this spiritual battle to rage with the full intention of rescuing David as many times as necessary from the enemy. Indeed, this attack may have been part of his plan in speeding up the judgment against Saul (see 2 Thess. 1:5-10).

The spiritual warfare for our hearts and minds is perhaps as fierce as it has ever been, with an unprecedented frenzy both in regular and social media. Conspiracy theories are spreading almost as quickly as the Corona Virus itself, and deep-seated suspicion of various institutions provides fertile ground for their growth and mutation. Many of the theories even contradict one another — although that does not stop some people from trying to hang onto all of them at once, even if they cannot all be true.

On the "other" side are people who label every question and critical analysis as a "conspiracy theory" — thereby delegitimizing any opinions that do not maintain the party line. The impression given by these people is that even suggesting that there are evil people in high places is a sign of a demented mind belonging to someone who ought to be pitied or treated as a menace to society.

Surprisingly, many on both sides share a common denominator: a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of evil and where it dwells. In the second group (the "anti-conspiracy theorists"), many tend to reject the idea of people being capable of committing unspeakable evil — except, of course, "those" people who believe in such theories. In the first group (the "conspiracy theorists"), everyone believes in evil, but many tend to point to certain groups and institutions as the source of the problem of evil — which would be solved if only "those" people could be exposed and dealt with severely.

Both types fail to fully recognize the fallen state of all mankind — including the evil in their own hearts. The fear on both sides — from the conspiracies, or from those who believe in conspiracies — is connected with an even greater problem: the downsizing of God in the current crisis.

Here I am speaking particularly to the group that believes in conspiracy theories of some sort in this crisis. Let me clarify that I do not use that term to silence open discussion. While many of the details are still unknown and I am not a physician, my sense is that the virus itself should be taken seriously. However, this does not contradict the strong impression I have that something is very wrong with some of the measures already taken or yet being planned in response to the virus.

Many of the worst theories about the crisis may be true. Even so, may I suggest that there is a serious problem if the power you ascribe to the people behind the conspiracies in which you believe is greater than the power of the God in whom you believe. Recounting the abilities of evil men constantly can lead to this type of imbalance and can easily turn into a perverse "praise" of their power, even if it is done out of fear and loathing. I believe that the line is crossed where our alarm over the nefarious plans and deeds of others — high-ranking and evil though they may be — is greater than our confidence in the power of God and in his ultimate victory over them.

This, my friends, is the real test of the believer in this crisis. David faced a conspiracy against his very life for many years — and it was not just his imagination. It was a terrible and painful situation, and he did not hesitate to point out the evil of the plots against him. But let us not forget that many of the richest psalms of faith that he wrote also came out of that time. May the same be said of our lives today...

The Edge of the Grave

10 April 2020 - A Sprouting Seed
Sometimes the farthest horizon we can see is the edge of the grave. Or so it seems. Yesterday, I saw one small phrase in Ruth’s declaration of loyalty to Naomi that I had never really noticed before: “Where you die I will die; and there I will be buried” (Ruth 1:17). The grave was the most distant earthly landmark that Ruth could make out as she looked forward into her future – and, even so, she stepped out in faith.

This weekend we mark the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and this year the opportunity to identify with his burial is unique. Sorrow and suffering have always existed on an individual and even communal level. They will always exist until he returns. This, however, may be the first time in eighty years that an entire generation has been buried by an avalanche of suffering at one time and on a worldwide scale. The situation may not be as dreadful as the two world wars were (yet), but the scale of fear and pain and frustrated plans is unprecedented for almost everyone alive today.

I myself have felt buried in this crisis, even smothered to the point of being unable to express everything “dying” inside. The deepest pain is not the loss of the meaningless or material things of life, but rather the sense that even my best and noblest plans were swallowed by the earth. It is at this time that two verses in particular stand out to me:

First, Jesus told us this would happen: “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain” (John 12:24). Could it be that he is preparing a season of fruitfulness in my life that will surpass anything that would have happened in a time of peace and comfort? I believe this to be the truth, even if the situation goes from bad to worse.

Second, Jesus himself went through this same experience: “He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay” (Matthew 28:6). I am no Greek scholar, but I was fascinated to discover that the verb is in a passive tense here (“he has been raised”), and not the more active sense that most of us remember by heart (“he has risen”).

This is no small grammatical issue here, but rather a truth that applies to our lives today. Jesus placed himself into the hands of the Father while going to the grave (Luke 23:46), trusting that he would be raised up by the him. He paved the way in this path of faith, and he promises to raise us up himself on the last day (John 6:40). And that, my friends, is something we can celebrate this weekend – no matter how deep our grave feels in this fleeting moment.