Both the Abused and the Abuser

“Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

Everywhere I look, lately, there is a great deal of divisiveness in Christendom as to what constitutes abuse of power in both politics and the pulpit; whether or under what circumstances one should be considered unfit to wield power once witnesses have come forward with accusations of abuse, and how we should relate to both the accused and the accusers.

Some stand with and defend those with compelling accounts of suffering both physically and emotionally under these leaders whom they trusted.  Statistics support the belief that people rarely bring false accusations of abuse, particularly if more than one witness comes forward with similar experiences.  Stories of abuse should spark moral outrage and there is a very real responsibility for Christians to support those who have been mistreated and to make every effort to see that others are protected from suffering the same treatment at the hands of these individuals.  The truth must come out in order for that to be accomplished.

But, as Christians, the manner in which we go about accomplishing this purpose is as important as the purpose itself.  There is nothing that brings out ugly self-righteousness faster than defending someone else.  The intrinsic belief that ‘all is fair in love and war’ comes into play on all fronts; we love the victim and we want to go to war.  No holds barred.  Fangs bared, claws out.  It is so easy to justify ripping into the accused and tearing him to shreds.  We can become intoxicated with the smell of blood, in the name of protecting the innocent.  I know, I’ve been there.

On the other side, some stand with the accused.  While there are those who completely discount the stories of the accusers, I’m not talking about them.  I’m referring to those who admit that the stories are likely valid, but take the position that, because, in God’s eyes we are all sinners, we do not have the right to judge and condemn; particularly if the accused abuser has indicated repentance.  They object to the exposure and detailed dissecting of every sordid detail.  They ask us to imagine how we would feel if our lives were similarly exposed for all to see.  They remind us that we have no right to cast the first stone, and that the one who did have the right chose not to, but instead offered forgiveness.  They tell us that only God can determine the sincerity of another’s confession.  They ask us to see this person as a brother who is frail and fallible, like us, and just as in need of pardon.

These sincere Christians also point to stories in scripture like that of King David, who used his position to seduce Bathsheba, then impregnated her and ultimately had her husband killed to protect his secret.  They remind us that, far from removing him from his position as king, God declared him to be a man after his own heart; perhaps as a result of the repentance which occurred after his sin was exposed and he saw himself for who he was before God. 

They are not far wrong.  I have said these very things in defense of those who are guilty.  I have hoped and prayed for their restoration to effective leadership.  But this position effectively dismisses those who were harmed at their hands.  In essence it says “Yes, yes, we’re sorry for you, but we must forgive, and so must you.  Let’s move on.”

I came to believe a long time ago that there is no perfect way for humans to deal with sin.  It would be one thing if “sin” was limited to acts which we do; we could perhaps, then, manage to look at another’s actions dispassionately and objectively; but, sin is a condition.  It permeates every single cell of every single body.  Because of that condition no one sees, thinks or acts without its influence.  We are blinded, to a great extent, to that influence in our own lives, so how could we think for a second that we could clearly see beyond our own plank to deal with the blindness of another?  We desire to do what we think is right, but our attempts often do more damage than good. 

Should we then do nothing because what we do will be messy and imperfect?  Should we stand aside and let the chips fall where they may?  No.  There are most certainly times when we must take a stand; we must speak and act.  But we are always called to act from love; because we deserved nothing but God’s wrath, and instead we were loved.  We need to genuinely pray to find the most loving thing for all concerned, and then do it in the most loving way possible.  If we speak truth, we must speak it in love (Ephesians 4:15).  If we restore, we must restore gently, lest we fall ourselves (Galatians 6:1).  Sometimes love allows a person to experience the full weight of the consequences of their actions, but it never rejoices in that; it weeps.  At the same time we never discount another’s pain; we bind up the brokenhearted and wrap them in our arms. 

Although we may have more questions than answers, and it may seem impossible, we need to ask God to show us how to be a safe place for both the abused and the abuser, because, if we are honest, each of us is, to some extent, both the abused and the abuser.  God help us all.

LAW...What is it Good For?

All of my early life I was taught and believed that there was only one use of the Law—to tell us what God expected us to do.  My church taught that, with the help of the Holy Spirit, over the course of a lifetime we could come to a place where we perfectly kept the law. The understanding was that, regardless of whether you reached the goal, you were to spend your days trying; and, that you would ultimately be judged by the quality and degree of your efforts, the intentions of your heart and the general direction of your life.

Obedience was stressed above all else.  I deeply believed that God’s approval of me was directly related to my level of obedience; yet I was comforted by the understanding that, if I was faithful in confessing my sins, salvation, in the end, was still possible.  It could be achieved by a combination of my obedience to the Ten Commandment Law and my confession of sin.

Blessedly, the Gospel—the Good News of Jesus Christ—found me and taught me that salvation is not something one achieves at all; rather, it is a free gift of God, given to us through faith alone in Christ alone, which is completely unmerited, unearned and unrelated to my obedience!  I began to see that Scripture presented a completely different use of the Law, a rather counterintuitive use of the law, which is that of an accuser, whose main purpose is to show me my utter inability to obey it and then to lead me to acknowledge my desperate need for salvation apart from the Law and to finally bring me to Christ, who fulfilled the Law on my behalf.

Philip Melanchthon, Martin Luther’s co-reformer, said “Lex semper accusat”, the Law always accuses.  Intellectually I accept that premise, I see it in scripture and I agree that it’s true; however, there is still a part of me which desperately wants to believe that one day the Law will finally pat me on the back. It is the part of me which still wants to earn, be worthy of, deserve, my salvation. It is the part of me that wants to show the world I can put my money where my mouth is, and have some skin in the game.

Depending on whether one is looking at the uses of the Law from the Reformed or Lutheran perspective, the first and second uses of the Law are reversed, but, as I stated above, one use of the Law is to give us a knowledge of our sin and our need for a Savior. The other use is to restrain the sinful excesses of sinners in general, through the fear of punishment, which brings about an outward conformance to moral standards and results in a measure of peace in society. This has been called the Civil use of the Law, which is about keeping order, and has nothing to do with an inward transformation of the heart.

But, there is a third use of the Law, one which I have been pondering in light of that part of me which still wants to take credit for something relating to my salvation.  I think that a misunderstanding of the third use of the law coupled with our innate desire to claim credit has led directly to the “do more, try harder” emphasis in Christianity today, which places the focus on the Christian Life rather than on Christ.

This misunderstanding of the third use of the law presupposes that, since we know there is no reason to fear condemnation from the Law any longer because of Christ, it can now be safely used to show us how God wants us to live and what he wants us to do.  We are encouraged to take the verses about being conformed to the image of God’s son (Romans 8:29), being a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), being transformed by the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2) and others, as setting before us the now achievable goal of becoming Christ-like through obedience to the Law. This is very appealing to that part of me which relishes the challenge and is ready to finally get that pat on the back.  It also affords me the alluring opportunity to compete with others in the contest to see who can be the most like Christ.

The problem is, the presupposition, that finally we can be guided by the law without experiencing condemnation, is faulty.  The Law always accuses.  The Law always shows us what we should do, but can never give us the power to do it.  The Law, when it is not used to drive us to Christ, but to drive us to moral improvement, will always turn us into hypocrites who are pretending to be improved. That is not the third use of the Law.

The third use of the Law, as I am coming to understand it, works quietly in the background of the Christian heart.  It is the steady hum of the Law which has been written in our minds and on our hearts, as it says in Jeremiah 31:33-34. It is what the Holy Spirit uses to continually call us back from pride to the reality of our continued need for a Savior.  It is the standard by which we are urged to measure ourselves so that we will remember we are no better than anyone else for whom Christ died, and therefore we have no one upon whom we can look down our noses. It is the ever present reminder of our dependence upon a salvation which is completely outside of us and for which we are due no credit.

In other words, as it always accuses, the Law, in its third use, always drives us to Christ; because we must constantly be driven to look from ourselves to Him.  And it is only in beholding Christ that fruit is produced in us and we are freed to offer the same grace and mercy we have received from Him to those around us.