On my drive to the office—actually on my drive to get a donut before work—I pass by a beautiful house. It’s positioned well away from the highway, its wonderfully manicured lawn, fenced off from society with beautiful cedar posts. And on that fencing are housed 5-6 canvas signs. One reads:
Fauci lied. People died.
The other one, I never can read quite fast enough, but it has something to do with if you voted for Biden you have blood on your hands. Each banner is accusatory and rather than injecting hope into each passerby it aims to move the needle on political debate by shaming the opponent. Hot takes preferred over hope giving.
As I drove by this morning I thought about that strategy. My first thought was, “don’t you know that people are inspired by hope more than shame.” But in reality, I only wish that was true. Fear motivates far more quickly than hope. You can gather an angry mob ten times quicker and ten times larger than you could gather a group to go spread hope. Hot takes, anger, fear, and shaming “work”.
The Pragmatism of Anger
Then I started thinking about pragmatism. Pragmatism is the philosophy that whatever works is what is true. In a purely pragmatic worldview truth is relative and ever-changing. It does not have its own existence. Truth is just the thing that works in some given moment. Therefore, the most fundamental question within this worldview is, “Does it work?”
From a pragmatic worldview, anger and hot takes are preferred because they get the results needed. Hope is more of a slow burn. You may never see the fruit of hope, this side of glory. That was certainly true of Abraham and so many other people of faith who “did not receive the things promised…” Hope isn’t practical.
I come from a certain tribe of evangelicalism. Early on I was heavily involved in critiquing movements like Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Church. I have been an outspoken critic of things like firetruck baptistries, decisional regeneration, and governing a church by “what works” instead of by what honors God. I’ve labored to kick pragmatism in the teeth.
I still believe pragmatism to be dangerous. But I’ve failed to see pragmatism in my own heart. You know how I know? Because so often I’ve taken the path of a hot-take instead of slow-burning hope. And I’ve done that because I know that an angry missive will get a response whereas offering a hopeful perspective will largely be ignored. Anger works—graciousness doesn’t. When I light the short fuse instead of the long one, I’m likely being a pragmatist.
I can’t help but think about that beautiful house on the hill with the shame-inducing canvas. The truth is, here in Southwest MO, it has a ready audience. It’s red meat. 3/4 of our population did not vote for Biden. As I’m assessing those berating billboards I’m confronted with the pragmatic questions I ask of them. What is the point? Does it work? Does it accomplish what you want?
Hope Lasts
But there is a fundamental question which stands over all these. Are those placards the way of Jesus? Do angry hot-takes, shame-inducing billboards, and malicious missives honor God? Do these things accurately reflect the God of the Universe? And do they lead to human flourishing?
That question about human flourishing is very much connected to the question of whether or not something honors God. God is honored when we treat our fellow image-bearers with dignity and grace and wonder. Shame doesn’t create a culture you want to live in. Anger consumes culture it doesn’t make beauty.
Will shame be present in the new heavens and the new earth? Will anger? Or will hope? Our hope will be realized and our anger and our shame will fall like scales as we see Christ for who He really is.
Hope makes beautiful. It isn’t necessarily practical. Neither is faith and love. But they remain whilst our angry canvas’ withers into dust.
And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love…
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Photo source: here
