SMITCHing

It's hard for most white people not to think about race in terms of skin pigmentation. I get it. As a child of the 60s, I ingested civil rights ideals with my mother's milk. Oddly enough, my parents were raised by people who used the N-word as casually as they might say, "Hello." And some of their parents participated in genocide during the frontier wars of the American West. I love my family, warts and all. I'm not about to throw them under the bus. My ancestors may have been racists, but they were more than that. Fortunately, the tide began to turn with my generation. We were—I was—taught that skin color didn't matter. Character did. My parents told me that I must never say the N-word, that it was as bad as the F-word. They told me skin color shouldn't matter. Our schools began to be integrated. We were taught that Dr. King was right and racial supremacy was wrong. As a result, things did begin to change, slowly and to a point. They did get better. ...

I could have entitled this with "husband" rather than "wife". I wrote the title as I did though because I can relate to it more directly. Though I've never been crushed by the pain of infidelity, I do adore my wife and imagining how a betrayal on her part could hurt sharpens the point of this post for me. My reflections on infidelity began after I read a piece in USA Today. Columnist Tom Krattenmaker wrote about the impulse among college students for a deep engagement with religion. He writes: Students open to a conversation about Christianity, even on a campus with an ultrasecular reputation? Such is the state of affairs at the nation's colleges and universities, where religion is experiencing something of a renaissance, although not necessarily in the shapes and forms older generations are used to seeing. I believe him, in part because I've spent some time recently with college students, and they all exhibit what Tom observes: a keen interes...

I remember hearing Chuck Swindoll say something like. "If you've never been accused of being too gracious, you probably don't understand the Gospel." At least, I think it was Swindoll. Nevertheless, the quote rang true for me. I think the idea of radical grace is at the heart of what God offers us in Christ. It is finished... There is no longer any condemnation for those in Christ... Come, eat and drink freely without charge... These ideas are embedded throughout the story of God's redemptive work in history. But what of truth and righteous judgement? God is gracious, but he's also holy, right. Yes, of course. It is finished... Having made sacrifice, once and for all... The penalty of our sin was laid on him.... God's holiness and righteous judgement are not set aside by his grace. If they were, then Christ died in vain. But he didn't. He died for me and for you to satisfy righteousness and judgement, that grace might be poured out o...

I said something to a friend today which bothered him. I felt bad about that. I think the quote was something like, "The Ten Commandments don't matter anymore." He texted me later, confused by what I'd said. I don't want to put words in his mouth, but if I understand his concerns, what he understood me to have said was something more like. "The Ten Commandments aren't important anymore." I do think they're important, crucial really. But I don't think they matter to the one who wishes to follow God, and has been united to Christ by faith. With the possible exception that they give one a glimpse of God's heart. I think Paul said it best in Galatians (3:19-25) when he characterized the entire Law (which includes the Ten Commandments) as a disciplinarian. When one follows Paul's logic, it becomes apparent that the Law was given as an intermediate measure until Christ came and righteousness—life really—could be had by faith. Paul writ...