Page 1237 – Christianity Today (2024)

Enjoy this fresh piece from professor and pastor A.J. Swoboda, giving good wisdom for relating to a common historical objection to our faith. Have Christians oppressed others? Without a doubt. Is Christianity oppressive? Quite the opposite. -Paul

I sat at the front of the classroom, computer open, desiring to finish my lecture. Then the student finally blurted out what I could tell he'd wanted to say for the past hour:

"Here's my problem: Christianity is inherently oppressive. It forces people to become what they're not. It makes everyone feel guilty. It's just one big shame system. . ."

The class, full of pastors like myself, sat there silently, searching for what to say. I was proud he said it—even if I disagreed. It took guts to say it. They were painful words at the time and they're painful to remember.

Sometimes it's best for a professor just to move on and let things pass. Or at least take a five-minute bathroom break, even if it is the third one in the past hour.

Pastoring in a "post-oppressive" world

Leading churches is an increasing challenge in a cultural milieu that views religious systems like Christianity as oppressive. It's even more challenging when those within your own church (or classroom) see religion as more harmful than helpful.

But my student's important question stands: Is Christianity oppressive?

Personally, I've experienced little-to-no oppression in my life. I'm an entitled, privileged, middle-class, highly educated, American white dude with dark-rimmed glasses and tight jeans. It feels silly to think of myself as someone who could write on the topic of oppression. I've never experienced it to the degree so many marginalized and disenfranchised peoples in our world have every day they wake up.

To our post-Enlightenment, post-modern minds, any form of oppression is an unforgivable sin—even if other forms of morality or justice are overlooked.

Yet I still have something to say about it. The claim that Christianity is oppressive has cultural curb appeal. To our post-Enlightenment, post-modern minds, any form of oppression is an unforgivable sin—even if other forms of morality or justice are overlooked. Our culture prides itself in fighting the big, bad bully group that seeks to steal the voice from any marginalized person. And we should praise God for that. One of the healthiest aspects of a sensitive culture like our own, is that it reminds us of the value of every human being, in all our radical diversity, no matter what.

In that context, many see Christianity as oppressive. That is Christianity places a set of antiquated, thoughtless, unjust, even unwanted, moral burden upon innocent by-standers. Christianity ultimately forces people to act a certain way, be a certain kind of person, and give up certain kinds of activities that are really fun and enjoyable. Christianity, by these standards, is a kind of spiritual club of modern-day Conquistadors who continue to float their legalistic boats onto the sandy shores of innocent neighbors with bayonets and Bibles in hand to conquer lands and peoples.

Pastors are learning to have to do our work of preaching the message of the Bible to a people who are very sensitive toward any kind of universal claim. Our sacred duty is to a culture with growing skepticism—convinced that Christianity is intolerant, thoughtless, and at times oppressive of marginalized people and groups.

Doing good news badly

This makes preaching, evangelism, and proclamation difficult. How do we preach the Good News in a good way that's received as good news?

The truth is that even something good, whole, and true as the gospel can be manipulated in wrong ways to be oppressive.

The truth is that even something good, whole, and true as the gospel can be manipulated in wrong ways to be oppressive. Think that's crazy? Consider, for a moment, the words of Jesus. Jesus railed against the Pharisees who traveled all over the world to tell the story of their God. But they did it so badly. Jesus writes:

Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are (Matt. 23:15).

Jesus reminds us of the hardest truth about oppression: Even the Good News can be shared badly. This truth wasn't lost on C.S. Lewis, who says in God in the Dock that even forces of good can be oppressive if they remove certain human rights:

My contention is that good men (not bad men) consistently acting upon that position [imposing "the good"] would act as cruelly and unjustly as the greatest tyrants. They might in some respects act even worse. Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under of robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber barons cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some points be satiated; but those who torment us for their own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to heaven yet at the same time likely to make a hell of earth. This very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be 'cured' against one's will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on the level of those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.

His point? Even those with good intentions can oppress others with their goodness. Finally, we have a dark biblical reminder of this truth. In the biblical story of the Exodus, the people of God move from being rescued from their oppression in Egypt to, a few short chapters later, oppressing the Canaanites in slavery. Even those who have been freed can, and do, oppress others with their new founded freedom.

More important than being freed is what you do with your freedom? Does our freedom free others? And does the way we use and speak of our freedom bring freedom to others?

Our preaching of the Good News becomes oppressive whenever, wherever, however it is forced upon anyone. The gospel must be welcomed, not forced. Jesus doesn't stand at the door and knock it down; Jesus knocks. Big difference.

Chosen discipleship is submission, forced discipleship is oppression. And I'm never convinced of a God who forces anyone to worship. Only a false God, in my mind, would ever demand forced homage.

Do we need a nicer gospel?

The problem is that the gospel message contained in Scripture is actually really hard news too—it's the proclamation that we're freed to be enslaved to Christ.

The problem is that the gospel message contained in Scripture is actually really hard news too—it's the proclamation that we're freed to be enslaved to Christ. And, in that way, the gospel does oppress us; in a good way. We are slaves and we have a Master. It isn't bad oppression. The gospel is good oppression in the way a cast is oppressive—it invites painful restraint for the sake of healing and freedom.

Some, mindful of the cultural sensitivities of a post-modern person, would have us reframe the gospel to muffle the harder aspects of Christianity for the modern person. The rhetoric of these well-intentioned Christians is that we must embrace a "new" Christianity refashioned, remade, and purified of all of its supposed oppressive tendencies and policies. But isn't this just a new gospel?

Our problem is we haven't taken seriously enough the old gospel and the old Christianity we already have—the ones we actually need. The gospel is the engine that should continually challenge any oppressive tendencies the religion of Christianity has picked up over the years. Our challenge is to constantly be renewed by God's Spirit without thinking we have to pull the whole thing apart.

Human cultures, like religious communities, are the makers of the systems around them. At times, when those systems become corrupt, they must be taken apart mortar by mortar. But to pull the entire building apart might be misguided. Steven Coulmin's Cosmopolis suggests that modernity (and other grand narratives) sought to change the entirety of society by first demolishing it then starting from the ground up. He calls this "The Myth of the Clean Slate." Starting over from scratch was the intent of the Enlightenment and, by extension, modernity. But Coulmin argues that such a restart actually brings about violence, blood, and death. Miroslav Volf agrees with Coulmin's thesis. In "Soft Difference," Volf says, "But the notion of 'the clean slate' has proven a dangerous myth. During the French Revolution … we learned … that the slate cannot be cleaned and that in the process of trying a good deal of new dirt is generated—in fact, rivers of blood and mountains of corpses."

It is in trying to clean the slate, start over, to undo all that is done that the freed becomes the oppressor. We don't need a new gospel, we need a renewed way to talk about the gospel. We need to learn how to do the gospel of freedom in a way that frees and doesn't hurt. I suggest two ways to do the good news goodly.

Preaching good news goodly

So how do we preach this good news in a good way? Here are a few places to start.

1. Be aware that the good news can be shared badly

Every word has power—both good and bad. They have power to create, and power to destroy. The difference between those two, writes the great literary genius Madeline L'Engle, is the difference between the use of sex to make love and babies, and uses of sex which can lead to divorce and murder. Words, continues L'Engle, are like telephone lines—the very thing that brings us power to light a nightlight, iron our pants, and cool our unsalted butter is precisely the same power which can, when touched, fry us to death.

As someone once said, words make worlds and words destroy worlds.

Just because we're talking about the Good News doesn't mean we're preaching it properly. While the content of our discussion may very well be orthodox, the delivery of our message may very well be diabolical.

For those listening, the way in which you preach the Good News is a kind of good news in itself. If the way it is preached is done poorly, the message itself will be lost on your method.

2. Be convinced but open

There's a reason people flock to Universalist Unitarian churches—people are welcomed to bring their questions there. Now, of course the problem is once you've actually landed on a particular belief you may not be welcomed anymore. But these kinds of churches are safe places to deal with questions.

Being a witness is having an answer but being humble enough to wade through questions with others as they are asking them.

Being a witness is having an answer but being humble enough to wade through questions with others as they are asking them. The most unexpected curveball you can throw at a seeker is being okay with them not signing the contract on the spot—letting them walk away and think about something. Learn the lesson of the good professor: know your stuff but be humble enough to dialogue. Just because we know something, that should not entail an arrogance that ends good, hearty dialogue.

I close with the original question: Is Christianity oppressive? I'm not convinced it is. Christianity is not oppressive any more than floss makes our teeth bleed. In reality the real force and power that made one's gums bleed are the hands and arms behind the floss that exert their power to put a tiny piece of string between one's teeth.

The gospel is always a message that frees and gives us much grace. But the minute we begin to silence it's message of freedom, we become the oppressors.

A.J. Swoboda is a pastor, writer, and professor in Portland, Oregon. He is @mrajswoboda on Twitter.

In March 2012, Matthew Vines posted a video on YouTube suggesting that "being gay is not a sin," and that the Bible "does not condemn, loving, committed same-sex relationships." He spoke eloquently from the heart with poise, conviction and vulnerability. The video quickly went viral.

Vines is a bright young man raised in a Christian home. At age 19, he left Harvard University after his third semester so that he could come out to his family and friends in Wichita. He knew that his father would not agree with the way he reconciled his sexuality with Scripture. So Vines sought to arm himself with biblical scholarship on the affirmation of same-sex relationships and strove to convince his family and church that they were wrong—that hom*osexuality is not a sin.

Vines's new book, God and the Gay Christian: The Biblical Case in Support of Same-Sex Relationships, expounds further on the arguments made in his video. His aim is not to present new information, but to synthesize gay-affirming arguments and make them accessible for a broader and younger audience. Vines does a good job fulfilling this goal. Unfortunately, his book consists of some logical and exegetical fallacies, and it does not address the shortcomings of the authors to whom it is most indebted. And although Vines professes a "high view" of the Bible, he ultimately fails to apply uncomfortable biblical truths in a way that embraces a costly discipleship.

Good and Bad Fruit

God and the Gay Christian begins with an emotional appeal from Matthew 7:18, "A good tree cannot bear bad fruit." Vines states that universal condemnation of same-sex relationships has been damaging and destructive for those who identify as gay Christians, producing bad fruit (depression and suicide, for instance). In contrast, Vines asserts that loving, same-sex relationships produce good fruit. Additionally, he claims that the biblical authors did not understand sexual orientation as a fixed and exclusive characteristic. Recognizing that celibacy is a gift, Vines contends that this gift should only be accepted voluntarily. Citing 1 Timothy 4:3, Vines even argues that those who forbid gay marriage are false teachers who promote hostility toward God's creation.

Six biblical passages directly address hom*osexuality, and Vines insists that none address same-sex orientation as we know it today. Thus, in Genesis 19, the sin of Sodom is not related to loving, consensual same-sex relationships, but to the threat of gang rape. Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 are not about committed same-sex relationships, but about the improper ordering of gender roles in a patriarchal society (men taking the receptive, sexual role; women taking the penetrative, sexual role). Paul in Romans 1:26-27 is not referring to monogamous, gay relationships, but instead to lustful excess and the breaking of customary gender roles. In 1 Corinthians 6:9 and 1 Timothy 1:10, Paul does not condemn same-sex relationships as an expression of one's fixed and exclusive sexual orientation, but instead condemns the economic exploitation of others.

After discussing these six passages, Vines passionately argues that God blesses the marriages of same-sex couples. Marriage as a one-flesh union is a reflection of Christ's love for the church. This relationship between Christ and the church is not a sexual union based upon gender complementarity. Therefore, Vines asserts that "one flesh" refers to a binding covenant of deep relational connection that is not dependent upon gender differences. For Vines, "sexuality is a core part of who we are" and same-sex orientation is "a created characteristic, not a distortion caused by the fall."

In Vines's 2012 video, he presents himself with a gentle and winsome demeanor. The tone of God and the Gay Christian is quite different. Unlike others who advocate respectful dialogue on this divisive issue, Vines charges that those who do not affirm same-sex relationships are sinning by distorting the image of God and are essentially responsible for the suicides of many gay Christians. This does not help to foster respectful dialogue on an already divisive issue.

Emphasis on Experience

Throughout the book, Vines declares that he holds a "high view" of the Bible. From this perspective, he says, one can still affirm gay relationships. One of the main weaknesses of God and the Gay Christian is that Vines's methodology of biblical interpretation clashes with the high view of the Bible he claims to hold. A high view of Scripture is more than just talking about Scripture. It is learning from Scripture. Vines certainly talks about Scripture, but he tends to emphasize his experience and tangential background information, downplaying Scripture and its relevant literary and historical context.

Experiences do inform our interpretation of Scripture. As a racial minority, biblical texts on sojourners and aliens mean more to me than to someone who is not a racial minority. However, experiences can also hinder the interpretation of Scripture. Although it is impossible to completely distance the interpretive process from one's experiences, it is important to recognize our biases and do our best to minimize them. A high view of Scripture involves measuring our experience against the Bible, not the other way around.

It appears to me that Vines starts with the conclusion that God blesses same-sex relationships and then moves backwards to find evidence. This is not exegesis, but a classic example of eisegesis (reading our own biases into a text). Like Vines, I also came out as a gay man while I was a student. I was a graduate student pursuing a doctorate in dentistry. Unlike Vines, I was not raised in a Christian home. Interestingly, a chaplain gave me a book from a gay-affirming author, John Boswell, claiming that hom*osexuality is not a sin. Like Vines, I was looking for biblical justification and wanted to prove that the Bible blesses gay relationships. As I read Boswell's book, the Bible was open next to it, and his assertions did not line up with Scripture. Eventually, I realized that I was wrong—that same-sex romantic relationships are a sin. My years of biblical language study in Bible college and seminary, and doctoral research in sexuality, only strengthened this conclusion. No matter how hard I tried to find biblical justification and no matter whether my same-sex temptations went away or not, God's word did not change. Years later I found out that the gay-affirming chaplain also recognized his error.

In God and the Gay Christian, Vines relies heavily upon other authors, many of whom also began with a strong gay-affirming bias. John Boswell was an openly gay historian. James Brownson, a more recent scholar, reversed his stance on the morality of same-sex relationships after his son came out. Michael Carden, a fringe gay Catholic who dabbles in astrology, has written on the "hom*o-erotics of atonement" and contributed to the Queer Bible Commentary, which draws upon "feminist, queer, deconstructionist, utopian theories, the social sciences and historical-critical discourses." Dale Martin, an openly gay man, believes neither that Jesus' resurrection is a historical fact, nor that the historical Jesus believed he was divine. These views do not represent a "high view" of the Bible.

Leaning upon experience rather than biblical context leads Vines to some inaccurate interpretations. For Vines, "bad fruit" in Matthew 7:17 refers to the experience of emotional or physical harm. But this does not line up with the storyline of the Bible. Under Vines's definition, crucifixion, martyrdom and self-denial would all be considered "bad fruit." Matthew 7:14 reads, "For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." Following Jesus is not easy and can result in very difficult trials. Vines also neglects to note that two different Greek words are translated into one word, "bad." "Bad tree" literally means a rotten or diseased tree, while "bad fruit" is literally wicked or evil fruit. From the context of Matthew 7, "bad fruit" does not mean emotional or physical harm but refers to sin.

For Vines, "sexuality is a core part of who we are." This perspective makes his experiences (feelings, attractions, desires, orientation) essential to his identity. Our society may place a great emphasis upon a sexual identity, but Scripture does not. As a matter of fact, our identity should not be placed in anything (such as our sexuality, gender, or race) other than Jesus Christ.

Vines asserts that the biblical authors did not understand sexual orientation as we do today, as a fixed and exclusive characteristic. It is one thing to say that the biblical writers were ignorant. But it is a whole different matter to claim to hold to a "high view" of Scripture and imply that the author of the Bible, God himself, does not understand sexual orientation.

Vines is wrong to claim that orientation is fixed and exclusive. Although male sexuality may be more fixed, the latest research in lesbian and feminist studies shows that female sexuality is quite fluid and not as fixed and exclusive as Vines claims. The view of same-sex orientation expressed in God and the Gay Christian mirrors Vines's own gay-male experiences. But according to the latest research, it does not represent the broader gay and lesbian community.

Ignoring Context

God and the Gay Christian includes a good amount of historical background information. For a non-academic book, it is impressive to see all the references to primary sources, such as Plato, Aristotle, Philo, Josephus, Jerome and Augustine. It is disappointing, then, to see insufficient interaction with the actual biblical texts. Investigating historical context is very important, but this must go hand in hand with the investigation of a passage's own literary context. It is easy to deconstruct one or two seemingly inconvenient words in light of tangential background information, but only if one disregards the immediate historical and literary context in which these words appear.

Vines discusses why Christians do not obey all the laws in the Old Testament. However, he does not discuss why Christians do obey some laws in the Old Testament. There is much discussion about the relevance of Old Testament law. But where the New Testament reaffirms it, Christians remain obligated to obey it. Paul reaffirms Leviticus 20:13 in 1 Corinthians 6:9 and 1 Timothy 1:10, using a compound Greek word (arsenokoitai) taken from two words found in the Leviticus passage of the Septuagint ,the Greek translation of the Old Testament.

Vines dismisses this important allusion. He contends that the parts of a compound word do not necessarily help uncover the meaning. As an example, he states that "understand" has nothing to do with "standing" or "under." Yet etymologists (those who study of the origins of words and the historical development of their meanings) can trace the origin and meaning of "understand" to Old English.

Vines notes the use of arsenokoitai in the vice lists of three second-century texts. Even though he admits the vice lists are of limited help, he tries to link arsenokoitai to economic exploitation through word association. Vines might have a case if every vice in each list is related to economic exploitation. But these lists contain a variety of vices, related and unrelated. For instance, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 mentions idolaters, adulterers, drunkards, and slanderers.

Vines also asserts that arsenokoitai is only minimally associated with sexual sin because it is not always mentioned alongside other sexual sins—and when it is, it is separated by three words. This is insignificant, and ignores other, more relevant historical information. The Greek Old Testament was probably the most widely read piece of literature among first-century Jews and Christians. The two words, arsen (male) and koite (bed), occur together six times in its pages. On four occasions, the reference is to women lying with men, and on the other two (Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13) the reference is to men lying with men. Vines and others who rely upon second-century texts to explain arsenokoitai, dismissing the Greek Old Testament, are inconsistent in applying background information. Again, their biases prevail in their attempt to interpret Scripture.

For Vines, Leviticus 20:13 is not a universal condemnation against same-sex intercourse. Rather, it is "centered around the proper ordering of gender roles in a patriarchal society." Men were not to act like women by taking the receptive role. Ironically, Vines dismisses Philo (a first century Jewish philosopher) for explicitly linking Sodom's sins to same-sex behavior, but then affirms Philo for linking the sin of Leviticus 20:13 to "being treated like women." This is another example of bias and an inconsistent use of background information. If the sin of Leviticus 20:13 is merely a matter of men adopting the woman's sexual role, then only the man in the receptive role should be condemned. However the verse states that "both of them have committed an abomination." Both men are condemned.

Gospel-Centered Reformation

Vines exhorts gay-affirming Christians to help usher in a modern reformation by "speaking the truth," which for him starts with personal life stories. Indeed, we must share our personal experiences, but experience should not replace truth. I completely agree with Vines that many gays, lesbians, and other same-sex attracted people have struggled to reconcile their faith and sexuality without much help from the church. Some churches are unwilling to talk about hom*osexuality, afraid that it will open up a can of worms. Other churches only talk about the immorality of it, while neglecting to discuss how the transformative message of the gospel is also for gays and lesbians. We must do a better job of walking with those who are working through issues of sexuality, regardless of whether they are acting upon their temptations or not.

We have failed to provide gospel-centered support for same-sex attracted Christians. As a 43-year-old single man who did not choose singleness, I know firsthand the challenges of obedience. But there are also blessings, just as marriage involves challenges and blessings. The church must have a robust, practical theology of singleness which involves more than just abstinence programs and the Christian singles ghetto (also known as the "college and career" group). We are not ready to address the issue of hom*osexuality (or even sexuality in general) if we have not first redeemed biblical singleness.

We have failed to walk alongside same-sex attracted Christians to whom God has provided a spouse—of the opposite sex. Vines limits the power of God by actually believing that there is no possibility for gays and lesbians to marry someone of the opposite sex. He even believes that encouraging such marriages "is not Christian faithfulness," because they would most likely end in divorce. In this, he offhandedly dismisses many marriages that have not failed. Certainly, there are challenges with these relationships, and getting married should never be the main focus. But fear of failure should not trump gospel-centered living. This is true Christian faithfulness.

We have failed to offer Christ to the gay and lesbian community. We have also failed by giving the impression that orientation change and reparative therapy is the solution. Sanctification is not getting rid of our temptations, but pursuing holiness in the midst of them. If our goal is making people straight, then we are practicing a false gospel.

Jesus did not come to call the righteous, but was accused of being a friend of sinners. Too often, we are more like the older, self-righteous brother of the prodigal son, and our hearts are hardened toward the lost. This is truth at the expense of grace. But the approach that Vines suggests—grace at the expense of truth—also misses the mark. It overlooks the theology of suffering and gives us Christ without the Cross. Jesus, who personifies love, came full of grace and full of truth (John 1:14). Might this be how we live as well.

Christopher Yuan (www.christopheryuan.com) is co-author, with his mother, of Out of a Far Country: A Gay Son's Journey to God, A Broken Mother's Search for Hope (WaterBrook Press). He teaches the Bible at Moody Bible Institute and has an international speaking ministry.

After popular Florida pastor Bob Coy confessed to a 'moral failing' and resigned, his Fort Lauderdale megachurch took his sermons offline. It said it was preventing malicious use. But public demand for the sermons stayed strong. Should Christians stop downloading and listening to the sermons of fallen pastors? (Responses are listed on a spectrum, with answers closest to "yes" at the top and answers closest to "no" at the bottom.)

"When leaders step away from ministry because of moral failure, their written and recorded teachings should be suspended for a season. Once restored—changed and humbled—to ministry, their teachings can become available again, telling the story of God's goodness and restoration."Kurt Fredrickson, associate dean, Fuller Theological Seminary

"Potentially. The gray area is when the nature of the scandal is independent of the content. Then it is the reader's job to use discernment. Each time I read a book, I am choosing a teacher, and certainly their character, integrity, and relationships factor into what I want to learn."Michael G. Maudlin, senior vice president, HarperOne

"King David committed adultery and murder, but the Psalms haven't been deleted from the Old Testament. David suffered the consequences of his sin, but we keep the truths of his poetry. Churches with failed pastors could find ways of retaining teachings while denouncing transgressions."Leith Anderson, president, National Association of Evangelicals

"If a text is good, it has value in and of itself as it refers to a higher unchanging truth. So let people decide for themselves how to value it. The texts should not be used in a malicious way, but they could be used as a testimony against the author."Patrick Nullens, professor, Evangelical Theological Faculty, Leuven

"We don't stop reading Luther despite his terrible statements regarding the Jews. Nor do we stop reading Calvin because he was responsible for the execution of Servetus. God's Word is true, independent of the vessel that proclaims it. Failure does not make teaching invalid."George O. Wood, general superintendent, Assemblies of God

"Leadership has a different level of accountability than the person in the pews, but we are all human beings. The moral standard that would silence leaders after failure borders on a type of gnosticism that emphasizes disembodied existence as the ideal. That is not Christian."Reggie Williams, professor, McCormick Theological Seminary

For all that the AMC series Mad Men gets wrong about desire, they know this to be true: to be human is to want.

Set in the '60s, the show thrives on "the drinking, the smoking, the lack of seat belts — [the dark appeal] of living without boundaries." At the end of the first half of their final season, Peggy Olson, who's risen to copy chief, is turning 30. Though she's turned down convention for career, and like Don Draper, lived by her desires, she wonders: Were those the right choices?

Mad Men is not a show you have to watch in order to understand its premise. It peddles very familiar cultural formulations of desire and want.

"Trying to match your desires to a vague notion of the ideal is exhausting — and you can, in fact, listen to what your mind and body seems to be yearning for instead of battling to shut it up," writes Anne Helen Peterson. In her essay, "What Peggy Olson Has Taught Me About Doing It My Way," Petersen admires Peggy for having resisted the "Greek chorus, constantly reminding Peggy that she made all the wrong choices." She's done it her way. Peggy may never have the happiest life, but even if she is miserable, at least it will be the misery of her own choosing. Peggy's courage—to want—must be bravely imitated.

There's something inviting about the Mad Men world: that we should live by our desires, that our desires express our most authentic selves, that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or expects. Isn't it great that Peggy is free to want? In fact, isn't she most free when she wants?

But of course this is the virtue of "being true to yourself"—which wasn't included when Jesus was asked to identify the greatest command in the Law (cf. Matt. 22:36-40).

Recently, I've been teaching a class on desire at my church as my book on the subject, Teach Us to Want, nears its release. At the first session, I showed a clip from Mad Men, launching a conversation about how the culture teaches us to want.

We summarized the culture's messaging on desire: If it feels good, do it. Desire can't be repressed; it has to be expressed. Nothing you want is ever wrong.

And then the church's: If it feels good, don't do it. Desire is evil. The highest calling in the Christian life is sacrifice.

No wonder desire has been my greatest confusion as a Christian. I've known that my life with Jesus required surrender. So what did I do with my wanting? Was it always evil?

The uncertainty probably has something to do with the way my story of faith began. My conversion to Jesus, at the age of 16, played like a homecoming. After my prodigal return, it felt immediately necessary to give up on desire. Hadn't it been the very thing that had recklessly gotten me into trouble?

Then there's my life now: I'm a wife and mother and church staffer. Where does desire fit into the sense of being on call for everyone else's emergency? On being readied for the desires of those I love? And most of all, if I'm following the One who "made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant [and]… humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross" (Phil. 2:7, 8), how can it ever be right to insist on something I want?

It has long seemed necessary to resist desire as a trap. I've read Scripture as a cautionary tale of desire; I've formulated the cross of Jesus Christ as the ultimate denial of desire. Desire was eliminated from the holiness equation.

These were the half-truths I told myself, and like half-truths often do, they worked for a time—except when I wanted to pray. Really pray. It may never have seemed safe to trust my desires. But I wasn't sure how to pray without them.

"What do you want?" was a question that Jesus loved to ask of people. There may have been many reasons behind his question. Maybe, by having them name their desires, Jesus was also nudging them to identify the hesitations and fears that obstructed their transformation. Maybe Jesus was calling the sin and sin-sick into the necessary commitment that change always requires of us as we participate with God. But no doubt Jesus was putting before them a great risk, the risk that is involved in prayer at its best: to admit our desires and believe that God wants something for our great good.

To be human is to want, and to want requires courage. It's not Peggy's courage we need, though. We need the courage to surrender to God's will. We need the courage to risk on God's goodness. We need the courage to pray as Jesus says we should when he describes the man, who won't quit knocking at his neighbor's door at midnight until his neighbor is out of bed and heeding his request for bread (cf. Luke 15). We need Biblical courage.

And holy desire.

But even if the Bible inspires a call to desire, it also issues a caution. We aren't brave and virtuous to live only by our desires. Indeed, as Paul describes so eloquently describes in Romans 7, on this side of heaven, we're still suffering the catastrophe of our contradictions. We commit the evil we hate and neglect the good that we love. Honestly, there is still so much work to do—in the reformation of our desires.

Finally, though, I've begun to realize this: it is a work that continues by grace through faith.

"Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Rom. 7:24, 25).

The soul, for many, is a topic deep and mysterious. Some like John Ortberg, pastor of Menlo Park Presbyterian Church, consider the soul the most important part of who we are. Recently, Greg R. Taylor, who ministers at Garnett Church of Christ in Tulsa, Oklahoma, sat down with Ortberg to talk about his new book, Soul Keeping and how people can find soul-satisfaction.

Your new book, Soul Keeping, could be called Tuesdays with Dallas because Dallas Willard is featured so much. Why is the focus on the soul instead of on Dallas?

Actually, what happened was the book started to be about the soul, and Dallas kept creeping into it. It didn't start out to be about Dallas at all. I wanted to talk about the soul and the nature of the soul.

But I can't think about that stuff without thinking about Dallas, because he's so central to my development. Not just to understanding the soul, but to the life and well-being of my own soul. What I loved about him was the character of his soul. In writing or in preaching, it always helps if there's story and personhood and not just abstract truth.

By the end of the first chapter, I felt like weeping. I think it was because of what you said on page 23. You wrestled with questions about pastoring:

"Why is it so hard for me to love the actual people in my church? Why is that I know I want to love my children, but I seem to be driven to be a success—especially in a vocation that's supposedly calling people to die to their need to be successful? Why do I get jealous of other pastors who are more successful than I am? Why am I never satisfied? Why do I feel a deep, secret loneliness? Why is it that I have a Ph.D. in clinical psychology and a master of divinity and work as a pastor and yet I'm not sure who I am?"

Well, it's so much a part of the story, at least for me and my relationship with Dallas. I'm drawn to him and I'm ashamed of myself. And I don't mean that in the morbid way. When you're around somebody who's farther down the road, it casts light on you.

When I first heard of him, I had read The Spirit of the Disciplines and it changed my life. I could tell you the seat on the plane where I was sitting when I read that book from Chicago to California.

I wanted to know more about him, so I wrote him a letter saying what the book had meant. It turned out he lived a few miles away from where I lived. After he died, I received from his daughter, Becky, a copy of the letter that I had written him over 25 years ago.

Dallas had a box—this is vintage Dallas—that he called "fond old treasures." Dallas used to write about treasuring, and how central treasuring is to being human, and how even a homeless person will carry pictures or a letter. We all keep treasures.

What was his sense of humor like?

Humor and joy are so important. I asked Dallas one time, when pastors end up in a ditch—sexual misconduct, money, or for whatever reason—how often is it because they were not leading a joyful life?

And he said, "Every single case." He has a famous statement in one of his books, "The failure to attain a deeply satisfying life always has the effect of making sin look good."

One of the things I loved about Dallas is he had this very sly sense of humor that would creep out. And part of why Dallas is difficult to read is he has a very precise definition for every word. Spirit is "unembodied personal power," beauty is "goodness made manifest to the senses," joy is "a pervasive sense of well-being."

So I was talking to him one time and he said, "Work is the creation of value." He was talking about how important play was, so I said, "What's the definition of play?" Without blinking, he said, "Play is the creation of unnecessary value."

Dallas impacted you in a very deep way in the relation of the soul to the family. Talk about how Dallas taught you to bless your daughter.

One of the deep needs of the soul is to bless. And it's a real important subject. Blessing is one of those words that's become tired, and it sounds real religious, but actually to bless is to will the good for somebody. And to curse somebody is to will bad into their lives.

We're exquisitely sensitive. If you're driving a car and somebody looks at you the wrong way you feel that deeply and you never get beyond that, it ruins your day.

So we need to give blessing and we need to receive blessing. We're inevitably, inescapably doing that in relationships all the time, because we're always willing the good for someone, or not liking them and willing the bad into them.

And especially that's true with our children. We need to will the good into them. People sometimes say that a parent—and pastors will often feel this—can never do any better than their child that's doing the worst. I think that's profoundly misguided.

I think it's often true, but I don't think that we're meant to live that way. Of course, God doesn't live that way. God loves everybody and God carries his love for the human race and is willing to suffer for us, but God is in his heart a joyful Being. If I'm not joyful depending on how my kids are doing, I put the pressure on them for my well-being, and that's not love.

One of the most important things for a pastor to learn is do not allow your well-being to rest on how well your child is doing, even spiritually. That gets into real deep soul work around, "But I wasn't perfect. How do I receive forgiveness for that?"

With our oldest daughter, Laura writes about this herself quite a lot now, from when she was little she experienced a lot of anxiety. If people met her, they would never guess that. She's like a duck where she is poised above the surface. She was the most mature person in our family when she was 10 years old by far, but under the surface, she was paddling furiously.

I remember when she was in second grade at a church camp-out, and people were talking about the beginning of school. She said, "I'm really nervous about school starting. I'm so anxious that sometimes I just can't eat." I remember thinking when she said that, "Isn't that kind of cute that she's been around adults, and so she's parroting what she hears adults say?"

I have a Ph.D. in psychology and I completely missed the intensity of anxiety in this little person that was in my charge. It was not until she was a senior in high school that I realized how intense and painful the battle with anxiety was for her. That was awful.

Several years later, we were together learning about blessing and how important it is to take that blessing of erring with somebody. Again, those aren't just words, they actually require the use of the will, where I'm with you and I look at you, so the body and the mind are involved. I'm thinking about you right now. Then I will good into your life. I will for God to bring joy, truthfulness, and peace into your mind, your shoulders that can get tense, and to your face. I will for that to happen and that's a blessing. It takes time and it's something we do as a whole person.

Part of what was going on in that moment, with my daughter, was to think about the years of missing her anxiety and my own preoccupation with myself. That's something that I have to deal with, with God, and with her, but now I get to bless her. That's a great healing for the soul, hers and mine.

Another lesson about family and the soul was focused on your wife. Dallas talked to you about honoring the soul of your spouse. What does that look like?

That gets to the need for distance in a marriage, the right kind of distance.

When we went to Chicago, and I was going on staff at Willow Creek, it was very much a joint decision, but it was a little more mine than hers. She would have been a little more apt to stay in California, and I had a little more leaning to go to Chicago. So when we went, Chicago was hard for her. She felt depressed, lonely, out of place, and sad.

I moved too fast trying to fix her—get connected, get involved, or by getting mad at her for not being OK. It took me a long time to realize, in that move, it's OK for me to be OK. The best gift that I could give to Nancy would be to say, "I'm actually OK. I really enjoy being here. I love you dearly. I understand that it's really tough. I want to give you the space to grieve. It's OK that this is really hard for you. I want to talk about that, as it's helpful. If you want to do any problem solving around it, I'm glad to do that, but I don't want to put the pressure on you of making you feel like you have to be OK for me to be OK." It took way longer for me to realize that than I wish it would have.

Are we soul keepers of other people's souls? Was there a point where you realized you're not a fixer of your wife or a fixer of your children but a helper with them to tend their own souls?

We are keepers of souls. The whole language around that is so wonderful. People used to talk about the cure of souls or talk about certain people being "curates," which is where all that comes from.

Soul is very deep language. It's irreplaceable language. It's interesting as a pastor when I say to my church sometimes just a statement like, "You have a soul," the congregation gets real quiet, because people, when they're still, know this to be true.

I sometimes think of the soul like a turtle that hides in the shell. You can't make it come out, but when it's still and safe, it will emerge.

One of the first things that happens in solitude is you realize you have a soul. That's part of the way of true solitude, to go away someplace where there's beauty and you want to be alone. This is so restorative because you realize your existence is way larger than your job at the church. Then you kind of have a place to stand.

You do that on a daily basis. You recommend not just doing a big sabbatical. You liked yourself better on sabbatical and you realized you need to come back and live that life daily.

On a sabbatical, I asked Dallas, "How do I help the church grow spiritually?" because I get frustrated by the church not growing spiritually. He looked at me, there was a long pause, always with Dallas a long pause, and then he said, "You must arrange your life so that you're experiencing deep joy, contentment, and confidence in your everyday life with God." I actually have that as a sign up in front of my door because it was so striking to me.

He didn't tell me here's the book to have the congregation read or the curriculum to have them follow or the prayer to have them pray. He started with me. I actually said, "I didn't ask about me. I asked about them." He said, "No, I know what you asked about, but the truth is, if you're a pastor, you will always reproduce your own life. Because the people who are closest to you, if they see a discrepancy between what you say and how you live, they know what you really believe is how you live. To believe something means to be ready to act as if it's true, so we never act in violation of our genuine beliefs."

The last question I want to ask is, what kind of stream-cleaning work—from a metaphor in your book—do pastors most need to do?

Because pastoral work involves other people, expectations, and perceptions, the practice that I think is the most helpful in pastoral work is solitude. For pastors to go away to a place where there's beauty and they love it, and to say that phrase, "I have a soul." To allow the truth about their soul to emerge, and to feel like when they go to solitude, they don't have to accomplish anything.

Don't bring a list of stuff, don't bring a book. Just be there, and discover they have a soul. They will find out, in solitude, the state of their soul. Is it hurried, anxious, or afraid? Is it tempted?

The other step that I would encourage for pastors is, cultivate a friend with whom you have no secrets. There's been a lot of research around what causes pastors to leave ministry, to burn out, and the single biggest factor is whether or not they have a friend before whom they have no secrets.

Often if you're at a church, that's where almost all your relational connections are. But you have a dual role there. You're their employer, if it's somebody that's on your staff. Or they're your employer if it's your senior pastor. Or if it's somebody who goes to the church, then you are their pastor. Those relationships complicate the transparency needed.

You need to have a relationship where there's absolutely no fetter or reservation, and you're able to communicate without any hiddenness, pretense, or disguise. "Here's what I am most ashamed of," to be able to confess that and then be loved. There's enormous power in that. And for any pastor who doesn't have that, they're going to be at risk.

Greg R. Taylor pastors at Garnett Church of Christ in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Copyright © 2014 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

I can tell you right now the names of two people who no longer call themselves Christians because of my pastoral leadership. In both cases, they left church, probably angry with God and religion to this very day. In both cases, I was confronting a sin in their life. And in both cases, I had a lot to learn afterwards.

As a leader, how do you correct someone without driving them away?

Correction is necessary to the gospel. Jesus was about full, mutual, real, intense, honest relationship where sin was dealt with in the context of community. As a pastor, I’ve come to recognize this afresh, realizing that my role is to help bring this kind of life into my community.

But it is hard.

Three hurdles to jump

I’ve observed first-hand three hurdles to necessary pastoral correction.

First, we have mistakenly minimized the all-too-important relationship between what we enact as leaders and what the Spirit of God does because we were willing to do our work.

Early in my ministry, I quickly came face-to-face with the monster of the church. From my front row seat, I could see the deep-rooted depravity of the people God had given me to lead; not to mention, of course, a newfound respect for my own depravity. I took up my new mantle of authority to correct sin. What I found was shocking: people didn’t like it when I held up a mirror and showed them their own warts and imperfections.

The pain caused by correction—even if done in love—slowly began to cause me to shrink back from my pastoral duty of correction. A fellow pastor said something that seemed to answer the problem: the Holy Spirit is better at correcting people’s sin than I was and I could leave it to him. This, I was convinced, was the theological answer to my pastoral problem. The result was pastoral silence. For a few years, my role as corrector atrophied, all, of course, because the Spirit could do the work. But, over time, I allowed that overly optimistic belief to morph into a kind of belief that, as a pastor, I don’t need to correct, rebuke, or challenge those in my community.

I don’t deny that the Holy Spirit corrects us. What I’ve come to believe, however, is that as a pastor, the Spirit’s work of correction is actually worked out through the loving words of a spiritual leader.

To assume that I am off the hook to say the hard word of correction because God’s Spirit does the work is, in my mind, tantamount to saying we don’t need to learn to recycle because we know the world will end.

Our responsibility is in no way minimized by God’s sovereignty. Just because God can and will does not mean we should not do.

The second hurdle we face in pastoral correction is fear. Silence, by default, will almost always be the easiest answer. Not the best answer, mind you, but the easiest answer. Recently, a member of my church completed his chaplaincy requirements having learned many of the ins and outs of the chaplaincy world. Turns out, the work of a chaplain requires relational juggling—serving the needs of patient, families, doctors, and nurse all at the same time. All while, the chaplain must keep a sane mind, a cool emotional demeanor, and embody the gospel of Jesus in trying times.

My friend learned of a phenomenon known in the medical community as “Mutual Pretense.” Something that takes place after it’s become clear to everyone that the patient will die. The doctor, patient, and family of the patient will often deal with the fact by talking about anything other than the fact that the patient is going to die. They’ll talk about what’ll happen once they get out the hospital, about sports, about family—anything but the truth of the impending death.

Mutual pretense is a kind of survival mechanism allowing everyone to continue talking to each other while not having to actually talk about what’s really going on.mutual pretense also is used by pastors as a way of avoiding corrective conversations. The pastoral vocation is not a vocation that seeks to mute the voice of truth and reality. Rather, it should be the voice of truth in a given time.

Fear often leads us more than love.

Thirdly, and finally, we have a hard time correcting because our church system in the Protestant/Evangelical way does not allow for it. The fear for many pastors in pastoral confrontation is that once the hard, challenging, corrective word has been spoken, the back door for the corrected person is really big; they can easily leave your church, go down the street, and find another community where their sin and selfishness won’t be confronted as it was in yours. if confronted in one place, we have an endless supply of other communities where we will not have to deal with our depravity. Because we know this, leaders often err on the side of silence hoping that things will work themselves out.

This is compounded by the nature of authority in Protestant churches. You will never, ever, see a book written by a Roman Catholic priest that boasts of his parish as the fastest growing parish in America. And the reason is simple. Roman Catholics, unlike Protestants, don’t see size as the mark of authority. Protestants do. Big equals more authoritative.

When size is everything, you will cautiously protect against saying or doing anything that might shrink the flock. Because that harms your own authority. As a Protestant pastor, the size of my flock is directly related to my value or authority as a leader.

Reflections on correction

So, here are my six biblical reflections on pastoral correction.

• I’ve learned that Jesus was both confrontive but unflinchingly kind to those on the journey of faith. He was simultaneously a disciplinarian and an encourager, embodying the balance between the two, a balance that is nothing short of having the skill of hugging and spanking someone at the same moment in time.
• I’ve learned that, as a leader, I will always gravitate toward desiring power. Paul Tournier once wrote, “A germ of totalitarianism also lies dormant inside all of us.” Because of this, it is going to be easy to amplify others’ sin and mute their own. Paul spoke of his own sin ad nauseum. Spiritual abuse is any system where the leader has permission to correct but is never honest about their own or corrected about their own. Spiritual abuse is always perpetuated by sinless leaders. Before correcting, it is important to ask if the correction is more about me wanting or desiring power or is it a correction of love for the person before me.
• I’ve learned that Paul always began his writings with greetings of thanksgiving before he moved to correction. Oddly enough, Paul’s first letter, 1 Thessalonians, is the only one where this is not the case. I. Howard Marshall suggests that after writing 1 Thessalonians Paul learned a lesson and had a change of mind and was learning how to correct a community in love.
• I’ve learned that Jesus begins his critique of the churches of Revelation with what he sees good in them, then he moves to the hard word.
• I’ve observed that the biblical characters always corrected sin, never opinion. These are very different, and requires us to recognize the fundamental difference between them both.

I go back to the two people who left the church because of my words. The truth is I said what needed to be said. But, I could have spoken differently, with a greater tone of grace. I’ll have to go to the grave wondering if I could have done things differently.

But until then, I lean on grace.

Jesus, please correct me.

Copyright © 2014 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

A note from the editors of Leadership Journal:

We should not have published this post, and we deeply regret the decision to do so.

The post, told from the perspective of a sex offender, withheld from readers until the very end a crucial piece of information: that the sexual misconduct being described involved a minor under the youth pastor's care. Among other failings, this post used language that implied consent and mutuality when in fact there can be no question that in situations of such disproportionate power, there is no such thing as consent or mutuality.

The post, intended to dissuade future perpetrators, dwelt at length on the losses this criminal sin caused the author, while displaying little or no empathic engagement with the far greater losses caused to the victim of the crime and the wider community around the author. The post adopted a tone that was not appropriate given its failure to document full recognition and repentance.

There is no way to remove the piece altogether from the Internet, and we do not want to make it seem that we are trying to make it disappear. That is not journalistically honest. The fact that we published it, its deficiencies, and the way its deficiencies illuminate our own lack of insight and foresight, is a matter of record at The Internet Archive (https://web.archive.org/web/20140613190102/http://christianitytoday.com/le/2014/june-online-only/my-easy-trip-from-youth-minister-to-felon.html).

Advertising revenues derived from hits to this post have been donated to two Christian organizations that work with survivors of sexual abuse: www.thehopeofsurvivors.com and www.Voicetoday.org. We will be working to regain our readers' trust and to give greater voice to victims of abuse.

We apologize unreservedly for the hurt we clearly have caused.

/signed/

Marshall Shelley, editor, Leadership Journal

Harold B. Smith, president and CEO, Christianity Today International

Copyright © 2014 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Streaming Picks

Sherlock fans: the wait is over! Netflix began streaming season 3 of the BBC show on Monday. Bonus: they've included three additional "Sherlock Uncovered" episodes, in which you'll get a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the show.

Want to share a piece of your childhood with your kids for this week's movie night? Amazon Prime is also now streaming Felix the Cat: The Platinum Collection.

For a throwback to the romantic antics of Humphrey Bogart and the magnificent Audrey Hepburn, watch Sabrina, also on Amazon Prime.

And if history and subtitles are more your thing, check out Soong Sisters—free for Amazon Prime Users—which follows three women who married three of the most influential Chinese leaders of all time.

Critics Roundup

PluggedIn's Adam R. Holz says that although Chef begins with a narcissistic, food-obsessed man, it ends with a beautiful portrait of what a father-son relationship should look like: "By journey's end, Carl has become a more engaged and emotionally healthy dad who's learned to love and work with his young son." Despite the heart-warming conclusion, Holz believes the language and comedy style of the film is far too filthy for a family-oriented film. Holz is not lost on the irony that, "Carl rebukes Percy for using bad language but of course uses it himself in front of his son." Although Holz could not see past the vulgarity of Chef, The New York Times' Stephen Holden seems to have seen a completely different movie. Holden praises Chef for its accurate depiction of the world today, saying "Food trucks, Twitter wars and salsa music: Chef has its pinkie on the pulse of the moment." The only negative remarks Holden seems to have about Chef is that it's more of a "glorified travelogue" than an actual film and despite its diversity-fueled cast, "the movie's exploration of multiculturalism isn't any deeper than that of an average episode of Modern Family."

This week, NBC welcomed a new Friday night television series starring John Malkovich. Although Blackbeard was created by Neil Cross, famous for BBC's Luther, PluggedIn's Paul Asay believes it cannot compare. Asay—whose review is written entirely in Pirate-lingo, mind you—claims, "Lookin' at Crossbones through me one good eye, methinks it a miserable pursuit, not fit for lad nor lass." Asay also observed that the show is full "o'scurvy behavior," and that pirates swearing like sailors is the least of their crude conduct. The New York Times' Neil Genzlinger avoids over-dramatic pirate vernacular in his review, and apparently so does the show. He praises this decision, informing us that the writers "avoid the 'ahoy, matey' stuff (these pirates spend most of their time on dry land) and instead make sure to give their characters, especially Blackbeard, a decent ration of smart dialogue in each episode." Genzlinger strongly disagrees with Asay's warning to dismiss the show, stating that Crossbones is a "sophisticated, well-acted television for a warm-weather series."

Movie News

More additions to the cast of J.J. Abram's Star Wars: Episode VII have been announced this week. Game of Thrones' Gwendoline Christie and Oscar-winning 12 Years a Slave actress Lupita Nyong'o will both appear in the upcoming film. For more information, read here.

Lucasfilm and Disney have also just announced that Josh Trank, famously re-doing The Fantastic Four, will direct a standalone Star Wars film. Read more here.

Fans of Divergent should look forward to seeing Naomi Watts alongside Shailene Woodley for the remaining book-to-movie sequels. Variety is reporting that Watts will play Evelyn in Liongate's upcoming Insurgent and Allegiant films.

Hate watching movies on your phone? Indiewire is reporting that a new Danish film created specifically for your phone screen will be released in the United States this Friday. APP is the first movie created for your phone.

Larisa Kline is a summer intern with Christianity Today Movies and a student at The King's College in New York City.

Since his release on Saturday, white-hot controversy has dogged US Army Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl, who was exchanged for five senior Taliban leaders. The Taliban held him captive for the past five years. Bergdahl is being branded as a deserter for abandoning his unit in eastern Afghanistan.

On Sunday at a White House press conference, President Obama with Bergdahl's parents Robert and Jani at his side announced Bowe's release. Earlier this week, Phil Proctor, pastor of Sterling Presbyterian Church, an Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sterling, Virginia, began distributing an email in response to questions he was receiving about the Bergdahls since he served as their pastor and has remained close to the family. In the five years since Bergdahl's capture, there has been a nationwide campaign for his release with many posters describing Sgt. Bergdahl as a POW.

Proctor said he wrote the email to counter false reports about the Bergdahl family, including that the father had become a Muslim. Right now, Bergdahl is being treated in a military hospital in Germany and the date of his return to the US is unclear. Washington-based journalist Sheryl Blunt spoke with Proctor earlier this week. The interview has been edited for clarity.

After serving as an interim pastor at the Bergdahls' church in Boise, you served as a missionary in Uganda and kept in touch with them. How close were you to the family?

We stayed in touch with different people in the congregation. When we would come back on furlough, we would get together with people and the Bergdahls were among those we would get together with regularly. In 2011, I took the congregation here in Sterling.

If Bowe was a deserter, I'll be the first to send him a care package in prison.

Providentially, Bob and Jani were traveling in and out of the DC area and so it became a great opportunity for them to stay with us when they were passing through.

After the Taliban freed Bowe, you spoke with both parents. What did they say?

We just rejoiced together in God's mercies. We talked about the media response and their intention of keeping quiet. We prayed together thanking God for his mercies to Bowe and asking for continued protection and healing.

How do you respond to the hostile reactions among some conservative Christians?

This whole thing is the dog of politics wagging the tail of the conservative Christian conversation. Folks are failing to recognize that this is a political football and was from the beginning.

The Bergdahls are just the flavor of the week, and next week it's going to be a different scandal. That's politics. But these are brothers and sisters in Christ. We can have political views on whether Bowe should be in prison, or whether Bob should say the Arabic version of "shalom," but to adopt the rhetoric of the day and use it to guide conversations among Christians about another self-professed Christian–I'm saddened by that.

We live in the grace of God and as we are immersed over and over again in appreciation of his grace to us in Christ; it lives out in peaceful relationships. I would hope that we as believers can be more eager to pursue peace.

Do you believe Bowe is a deserter?

I honestly don't know. Whatever happened–if we saw a Christian couple whose daughter had gotten pregnant or whose son got caught with a bunch of cocaine, we would cry with them and we would help them to walk through the valley.

If this kid made a huge, stupid mistake, that's for the magistrates to figure out, to look at the evidence and to talk to the witnesses.

Right now, we're watching a lynch mob, and Christians are getting engaged in the lynching. In any other situation, we'd be hugging the parents and weeping with them.

What prompted the email you shared?

I'm being asked specifically if Bob is some kind of secret Muslim. People were saying, "The father is a Muslim, look at his beard. Look how he gets up in front of the White House and says one of the opening verses of the Qur'an."

What's been the response of your own congregation in Virgina?

Supportive. We've been praying for Bob and Jani and they've visited our church. I couldn't be more thankful for the way my congregation is handling this. Others have contacted me, saying, "Pass the word on to Bob and Jani that we love them and we're praying for them."

How are the Bergdahls handling all the controversy?

They are hunkered down, and their [mindset] is, "We're just going to thank God that our son who was lost is found, that our son who was dead is alive, and look forward to the day we can hold our son again."

Did Bowe ever discuss his faith with you?

He was at a stage in his life where he was wanting to know if it was his faith or if it was his parents' faith–a young adult kind of thing. He was very intelligent. He wasn't rebellious at all.

Did he ever make a profession of faith?

He did not make a public profession of faith. We were working through that pastorally, and working through this questioning period, and whether he ever got to the place of saying, "Yes, this is my commitment," I don't know. While he was in captivity, he made a point of celebrating Christmas and Easter, and asked his captors to join in with him in celebrating, and I find that profoundly significant.

How would you describe Bowe's personality?

He's intelligent and very well read. His parents are rugged individualists, intelligent, outdoors kind of people. Bowe is the kind of person who'd build his own house, then sit down and read Socrates in the evening by firelight.

How did you minister to Bob and Jani while their son was gone?

Bob's continual communication with me was expressing fear and discouragement, but always coming back to God's sovereignty in this. He believed that God is guiding Bowe through this, that God is protecting Bowe. That was his comfort. He would say that Sundays were one of his most encouraging days because that was the day he knew that people all around the world were praying for Bowe specifically.

How would you like to see the Christian community respond?

There's the parable of the prodigal son. To me, that is a striking parallel. The prodigal son has come home. The elder brother, the faithful son, at the end of Luke 15, is the one standing out alone in the night, and the father leaves the house and goes to the elder brother and says, "Won't you come in and rejoice with us?" I hope that we, the Christian community, could make a distinction between politics and between such offenses.

If Bowe was a deserter, I'll be the first to send him a care package in prison. There has to be a fundamental level at which we can just come around a brother and sister in the Lord, whose son has been held captive by the Taliban for five years, and wrap our arms around them, and cry, and give them a kiss. That doesn't align me with any political party. It doesn't make me spit in the face of soldiers who may have died looking for Bowe. I'm not getting into any of that. If there are criminal things that have happened, by all means, let's have a trial, there's a law system for that. But this is a lynch mob that's happening right now.

What bothers you the most about the responses you've seen?

If you put a bandana on Bob Bergdahl's head and put a duck in his hand, we'd put pictures of him on our walls in our Christian homes. We'd be defending him tooth and nail. Yet here we are saying, "Because he's got a beard, he's a Muslim.' And, "Look he said, Bism allah al-rahman al-raheem [In the name of Allah, the most graceful and merciful] at the White House. He claimed it for Muhammad! This was a secret infiltration thing."

To attack Bob because he has done and said things that are outside of our comfort zone as he's tried to do whatever he could to get his son back, we need to be more gracious. Which one of us is ready to cast that first stone? I don't know what I would have done if it was my son over there. I know Bob has, through the years, professed his faith in Christ and his reliance upon Christ. He's a brother in the Lord and we need to pray with him and love him.

There are accusations flying wildly right now. If, at the end of the day, Bowe collaborated with the enemy, by all means let the young man stand in front of a judge. But I don't know, and they don't know.

Did Bob and Jani express to you how they felt about their son being exchanged for five senior members of the Taliban?

They were expecting the uproar. Bob has been very active for years in saying that Bowe's release has to be connected to people leaving Guantanamo. Bob has been politically dogmatic saying that Guantanamo needs to be closed. Bob hasn't been quiet about it. Bob has said, "We've got to close Guantanamo in order to get Bowe home."

What is your hope in all of this?

What I'm trying to do is pour oil on troubled waters to call Christians back to focus on these brothers and sisters in Christ. We need to show mercy here.

Sheryl Blunt is a journalist based in Washington, D.C.