Out of the Darkness Part 2: Peter, Respect, and Veneration

So as promised, I thought I'd spend a few more posts speaking about the situation with Pr. Yang and the church. Again, the goal of these posts was never to "start a revolution", nor was it my starting the English-language chapter of "The YM Yang Fan Club". I think some well-meaning brothers and sisters were hoping it would and so my original post was translated into Chinese and subsequently got over 3,000 views on this site and who knows how many other views on a Chinese site. I got the feeling that somehow my post caused both sides to start picking up their torches and pitchforks again, which is partially why I decided to take a break. But as far as I can tell things have quieted down again. 

So let's continue to explore this thing.

As I said in the beginning, the whole point of my posting was to share my own opinions about things that don't add up. I don't presume to have the answers, but I do know that our church is in a crisis and that a spiritual battle is going on. 

My purpose in writing this isn't to reach out to thousands of people to start a revolution. It's to reach out to the maybe 20 or 30 of you whom I see from Google Analytics have continued to come back each day, checking to see if I've updated it. It's to you whom I'm speaking because chances are you're someone like me who feels that something just isn't right, and just want to try to figure out what's going on, with an open mind and with humility. 

So let us reason together, so to speak.

If you recall, the last post I made on the subject was called Out of the Darkness Part 1: Exposing three ministers of the true church for their shameful behavior. The point of that post was that I could take the words and actions of even three of the most significant heroes of faith in the New Testament and either misinterpret or misrepresent who they really were.

Let's talk about that first minister I cited in the post.

Peter was not only a disciple, apostle, minister, and elder, he was the Rock on which the Lord Jesus Christ said he would build his church. He had the keys to heaven. He had the powers to bind and loose.

And yet even this man of God made a mistake, which we talked about last time. Because he was human.

In the first Vatican council, held 1800 years after Peter's death, the Catholic church defined the Pope's authority as such:

The Roman Pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra, that is, when carrying out the duty of the pastor and teacher of all Christians by his supreme apostolic authority he defines a doctrine of faith or morals to be held by the universal Church, through the divine assistance promised him in blessed Peter, operates with that infallibility with which the divine Redeemer wished that His church be instructed in defining doctrine on faith and morals; and so such definitions of the Roman Pontiff from himself, but not from the consensus of the Church, are unalterable. But if anyone presumes to contradict this definition of Ours, which may God forbid: let him be anathema.

I think Peter would be the first to tell these people that he wasn't infallible. Ironically, Peter himself would probably be the first to fall under the "anathema" that comes as a result of contradicting this very edict that bears his own name.

The Bible records the mistake that Peter made in Antioch, and there were surely others. Does that make Peter any less of a hero of faith? By no means! To the contrary, I appreciate his service to Christ all the more because of it. Because he struggled the same as you and me. He didn't have a sudden epiphany where the complete truth was revealed to him; like you and me he had to work it out a little bit at a time. And like you and me he needed a good kick in the pants from time to time, in this case from a young impudent upstart named Paul.

And yet in response to my past posts there were plenty who berated me, telling me "thou shalt not question the church or the church's leadership". To these people I ask, are you trying to set these same "rules" of infallibility in place? Is anyone who questions the church really a "tool of Satan", as some have called me?

When I criticize the leaders of the church in love, some people twist my words and say that I'm saying we shouldn't respect our church leaders or church workers. That's not what I'm saying at all. To the contrary, anyone who devotes themselves to serving the Lord, especially someone who's sacrificed their lives to serving him full-time, is someone who absolutely deserves our respect. So the next time a minister or holy worker is in town, especially to help you and your church, make sure you say hello. Treat him or her to dinner. Welcome him or her into your home.

But there's a fine line between respect and veneration. How do you know if you've crossed that line? It's quite easy. Do you think or over the years have you been made to think that this person (or group of people) is incapable of making a mistake? Or if you observe that he does make a mistake, do you feel you "don't have the right" to gently correct him? Do you seek out and listen to advice or instruction this person gives you without questioning it? And do you find yourself looking solely to this person for "answers" rather than treating his or her message to you as one of many other diverse reference points--most importantly your own personal prayers, study, and devotions--to help guide you in your journey of faith? 

My observation, again, my personal observation, is that too often we as members of our church have a difficult time figuring out this line between respect and reverence. Here's a silly example of what I mean.

I'd always been taught to treat my Bible with respect. One day I remember in college I had a bit of a debate with a brother. He observed how I took special care of my Bible, almost to an obsessive level. I'd make sure I wouldn't stack other books over my Bible. I'd keep my Bible separate from other books. When a Bible got old, I wouldn't throw it into the trash. This brother saw this and scolded me. It's just an object, so why was I "worshiping" it? And to prove his point, he took his own Bible and threw it across the room so it landed with a loud thud, pages flapping all over.

I admit, I got really angry with him at the time. But it left an impression.

Which one of us was right? As with many of these debates, both of us were and neither of us were.

I probably overdid my reverence for this physical object and while I wasn't about to consecrate it for ritual worship, I see that perhaps I was conferring a little too much importance to this physical thing that I should have been conferring to the Word itself.

On the other hand, this brother probably wasn't in the clear either. Even though it's just a physical object, it does contain the Word of God. You need to take care of it so that it can serve its purpose as effectively as it can for as long a time as it can. And you need to be careful of the perceptions of others. If you mistreat this object, people may see it and conclude that you don't respect the message it contains.

Shouldn't this be the same approach we take towards ministers of God? They are vessels, yes, noble vessels, but vessels nonetheless. We should respect them without revering them. We should use them as God intended them to be used--as vessels to help us in our spiritual journey.

But all too often, it's we members who put church leaders up on a pedestal. I sometime observe people during Q&A sessions asking questions of ministers as if they're sherpas or gurus imparting their enlightened answers upon them. As I said in a previous post, in the NYTS I'd sometimes overhear people talking about ministers as if they were rock stars. 

I got to taste a little of this myself. During the years I was giving sermons and running seminars, there were moments where I'd really feel the Spirit moving. From time to time I'd give a sermon that I could see moved some in the congregation to tears, or I'd give a lecture and see the eyes of so many in the congregation fixed on me hanging onto every word that came out of my mouth. As someone who had always been "slow of speech and tongue" growing up, it wasn't hard for me to understand that whatever gifts I had were completely from God, and none of it was my own personal talents or skills. But I have to admit, there were times when inside I'd start to think, "Hmmm...maybe I AM pretty good". And in particular there were times over the years where a sister that I'd happened to have a major league crush on would come up to me and give me a compliment and a smile causing my heart to skip a beat. "Wow, she's impressed..."

Luckily for those sisters my extreme shyness and utter lack of grooming skills were more than enough to keep them away from me over the years, so there was never a chance of me getting into trouble there. But you get my point. If I experienced the temptation to think a little too highly of myself because of a handful of sermons or classes I gave, I can't imagine the temptation that someone who is a gifted worker for God will get as respect turns into admiration and admiration turns into veneration.

Oh, we've taken superficial steps to combat it. We're taught, for example, whenever we're complimented after doing work for God to say "thank God, thank God". But even that practice can turn habitual. I remember one day my wife and I heard a sermon from a minister where he mentioned a TV commercial he remembered from his childhood in Taiwan, one which my wife instantly recognized. During lunch, I wanted to mention it to him just to make some small talk, so I started out by saying, "my wife enjoyed something you mentioned in your sermon..." Before I could even tell him that it was about this silly little piece of trivia which she found amusing, he loudly declared "THANK GOD, THANK GOD".

I should say I have no idea what was really in his heart, but there's just something about that response that seemed downright Pavlovian, as if he were so used to being put on a pedestal that he could no longer have ordinary conversations. And mind you, this is a minister who before he became a minister I could talk to about anything. But after he was ordained, something changed. It was as if he felt like he could no longer be himself, but he had to put on the face of being a "holy man" and be "on" 24x7. He was someone that, before he was ordained, I could pour my heart out to and he'd listen to me as a big brother, with an open mind and no condemnation. And yet after he was ordained, when I told him that I was dating a young woman who wasn't a church member, he didn't ask me about who she was, what she did for a living, what she was like, or how we met. The only thing he said to me was "you should not marry a non-believer".

While it sounds like I'm criticizing full-time ministers here, quite the opposite is true. With few exceptions, every brother I've known who went on to be a full-time minister or a deacon in the church has been among the most humble, loving, gentle men I've known. The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars but in ourselves. Specifically, as lay members of the church how do we treat our ministers? Do we treat them like our brothers, who we can eat with, joke with, kid around with, and from time to time, correct? Or once they take on the moniker of minister, are they somehow Brahmin and we the members the untouchables?

We all know the story of King Saul in 1 Samuel. When Saul was chosen to be king he was the most impressive young man you could imagine. He was obedient to his father and showed love and concern for him, he was humble enough to follow the advice of his servant, and when Samuel first hinted of the future that awaited him, his immediate reaction was to be incredulous. "I'm someone from the least tribe of Israel, and my family is the least within this tribe". One chapter later, when the time came to anoint him as king, he hid. 

And yet just six chapters later, the Lord rejected him as king.

How did it come to that? While a lot of us when we read it shake our heads at Saul, what was the real cause of his downfall? Wasn't it those people of Israel who demanded to Samuel that they wanted a king? They were a people who were too lazy or too faithless to follow God himself, so like the other nations they wanted a king that they could look up to instead. And so the adoration and adulation that they should have given to God who they couldn't see was given to this king who they could. And this king, while filled with gifts from God, was not God.

Many people have heard Sir John Dalberg-Acton's phrase "power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely". But most probably don't realize that he in fact coined this as he spoke against the concept of papal infallibility. It's difficult for even the most honorable and humble of men to not be affected by being revered as if they were God. This is precisely why Peter immediately told Cornelius not to bow down to him, and why Barnabas and Paul frantically implored those in Lystra not to worship them to the point of tearing their clothes.

I sometimes think about the ministers in our church's history who've "fallen". As we do with King Saul, too often we point fingers at them and shake our heads. What we fail to do as a church, and I'm talking about both the church leadership and the rank-and-file, is to examine ourselves to see if there's anything we did that contributed to it.

Granted, the ultimate responsibility belongs to them, and it's God's job alone to judge them. However, from the perspective of the members of the church, we absolutely need to ask ourselves--was there something we did or did not do that created an environment for this to happen? Was there something endemic in the church culture that not only did not prevent it but actually fostered an environment where temptations became too great for our workers to resist?

If a particular minister is gifted, do we as members focus too much on the man and not on the message in expressing our admiration? If we see a particular minister (or a group of ministers) doing something he shouldn't be doing, did we look the other way and tell ourselves, "God will handle it"? If we see a minister in a situation that doesn't feel quite appropriate do we say something about it or do we think to ourselves, "he's a man of God so he knows what the right thing to do is".

And as for the ministers themselves, do they have anyone they could go to to practice the words of James 5:16 to "confess their sins to each other and pray for each other"? Or has the church culture gotten to the point where they have to be infallible, and as such cannot not reveal their weaknesses to others, in fear that members would conflate weakness in a minister with weakness of the church itself?

Titles like "pastor" and "preacher" and "deacon" and "elder" were always supposed to be merely job descriptions, but they seem to have morphed into titles. Just as a general outranks a colonel, who outranks a major, who outranks a captain, so it seems that an elder outranks a minister, who outranks a deacon, who outranks a board member. And as a private, you're low man on the totem pole, so you pretty much stay silent until you can be "promoted".

When this "hierarchy" and these "classes" become institutionalized to the point that people tell each other that they are not to even question the higher levels--even if such questioning might come from the Holy Spirit and be clearly backed up by the Word of God--that becomes dangerous. Because that can lead to pride and arrogance.

Has this pride and arrogance crept into the members of the IA, the GAs around the world, and the Truth Research Committee? And to be fair, has it also crept into Pr. Yang? I don't know. But to any of these people who might be reading this I just have one word to say.

Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.

If you are an ordained elder, deacon, full-time minister, or worker of God and are not constantly pummeling your body and subduing it, if you are not constantly looking at yourself in a mirror and asking yourself if you are on God's side, and if you read this and are thinking to yourself, "who is this uncircumcised Philistine who doesn't even go to church anymore to lecture ME...please be careful. Because it's one thing if you fall yourself, but it's an entirely different thing if you cause others to fall.

To the rest of you I just have this very practical advice. If you happen to be personal friends with someone who works for God, especially if they've been ordained and were friends with them prior to their ordination, you have a very important role to play. If you observe them doing something that's not right, or acting in a certain way that makes it seem like they have a little chip on their shoulder, or if you see them not doing something that they should be doing--take them aside and give them a little kick in the pants. As a friend of theirs, do it with gentleness and love of course. But do it.

James wrote that whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death. Most of us "in the lower ranks" have plenty of people who will do this for us. But for those who have "risen" to the level of "infallibility, they may not. And their very spiritual life and the spiritual lives on all who depend on them may ultimately depend on you.