Religion Is Like a Rolls-Royce

Religion is like a Rolls-Royce.

Don Kenobi argues....

The failures of Christians do not define Christianity.

To judge the faith, we must ultimately judge it by Christ.

What Did Christ Teach?

What Would Jesus Have Done?

No - the actions of those men did not expose the inferiority of Christianity. They simply brought Christianity down to their own level.

The analogy of a car may help explain what I mean.

The Purpose of the Automobile

Cars are involved in accidents. People are injured in cars, people are killed in cars, and cars can even be deliberately used as weapons. Yet none of this changes the fundamental purpose of the automobile. It exists to move us from Point A to Point B.

Its purpose is not redefined by every foolish, careless or wicked person who sits behind the wheel. If a drunk driver crashes a beautifully engineered automobile into a wall, we do not conclude that the automobile was designed to crash into walls. We look at the driver.

The same distinction should matter when we talk about religion.

Suppose a Man Is Given a Rolls-Royce

Suppose a man is given a Rolls-Royce. What he chooses to do with it does not change what the car is, although he remains entirely accountable for how he uses it.

One man may sell it and give the proceeds to charity. Another may hitch it to a refuse bin and use it to haul rubbish to the dump. Someone else may register his as an Uber and spend his days carrying passengers around town, while another may simply park his in the driveway so that the neighbours can admire it.

These choices tell us a great deal about the owners, but remarkably little about the automobile itself. Its engineering does not deteriorate because its owner behaves foolishly. Its craftsmanship is not diminished because somebody misuses it, and its pedigree does not disappear because someone employs it for a purpose its designers never intended.

The misuse reveals something about the owner. It does not redefine what has been entrusted to him.

Christianity Must Be Judged by Christ

So it is with Christianity.

Christianity must ultimately be judged by the Christ to whom it points, not merely by every terrible thing human beings have done while carrying His name.

The Crusades, the Inquisitions, slavery, colonialism, segregation, prosperity preaching, political Christianity, corruption and hypocrisy must all be examined. Where condemnation is deserved, condemn. Where institutions have done evil, hold those institutions accountable. Where religious leaders have abused their authority, hold them accountable. Where individual Christians have behaved wickedly while invoking the name of Christ, hold them accountable too.

But after doing all of that, there remains a more fundamental question: Was that what Christ taught?

Did Christ teach conquest,

racial superiority,

exploitation,

cruelty, 

greed or

the worship of political power? 

Or did human beings take His name and attach it to their own ambitions?

That distinction is crucial because Christianity makes extraordinary claims about Christ, not about the perfection of Christians. Indeed, Christianity begins with a rather unflattering assessment of human beings. It assumes that we are capable of pride, greed, cruelty, hypocrisy and self-deception. It should therefore hardly surprise us that human beings can take even religion and bend it towards those same impulses.

Look at the Christian

The corruption of Christianity by Christians does not necessarily disprove Christianity. If anything, it demonstrates something Christianity itself has always insisted upon: human beings are capable of corrupting even the highest ideals placed in their hands.

So the question cannot merely be, “What have Christians done?” That is an important historical and moral question, and Christians should never be afraid of answering it. But another question must follow: “What did Christ teach, and how closely have those who invoke His name actually followed Him?”

There is an enormous difference between those two questions.

Christianity does not become false simply because Christians behave badly, any more than medicine becomes fraudulent because a doctor behaves unethically or justice becomes worthless because a judge accepts a bribe. The corruption of an ideal may expose the people entrusted with it without necessarily invalidating the ideal itself.

The Tragedy Is in the Misuse

And perhaps that is the tragedy of Christianity throughout so much of history. Too many Christians have taken something noble, beautiful and transformative and brought it down to their own level.

They have taken a faith that calls human beings towards love, mercy, sacrifice, forgiveness and service, and sometimes converted it into an instrument for wealth, status, tribalism, domination and political power.

That is not the failure of Christ's teaching. It is the failure to live by it.

Perhaps that is where the distinction ultimately lies. We should absolutely judge Christians by Christ. We should ask whether their conduct resembles the faith they profess, whether their lives reflect the values they preach, and whether the Christianity they practise bears any resemblance to the Christianity Christ taught.

But we should not judge Christ by Christians.

Christianity must ultimately stand or fall on Christ.

Hope this helps 

Don Kenobi
#MyFrancisEssays 
#OldManInTheMolue 

On church succession

Lillian,

My first response to Zaynab was deleted.

I however expounded and reframed it, and posted it on my wall.

Like you said, we move…

But first, your 3rd point addresses a point I do not understand. Perhaps you are a member of that assembly.

As I mentioned in the reframed article, selecting whomsoever is to succeed a departed General Overseer is NOT a matter for public debate!

However, if you wish to justify it, a roll-call of well-known charlatans having done the same thing is not a very strong argument:

Warren.

T.D. Jakes.

Franklin Graham.

I have omitted Osteen because:

(1) I love him like a brother, and

(2) I know he was never groomed to succeed his father.

He was a cameraman in his father’s ministry, and when he told his mum that the Lord had spoken to him to take over the mantle of leadership, his mother laughed!

I heard his mum tell this story herself. Live. Not on TV.

The rest of my argument is on my wall, but the summary is this:

THE APOSTLES.

They gave us a formula for replacing “fallen” members of Church leadership.

Fallen spiritually.

Fallen physically.

Doesn’t matter.

That formula is the CASTING OF LOTS.

Ballots.

(Interesting. I never realized until now that “lots” is contained in “bal-lots.”)

Sons and daughters succeeding parents in Church leadership is a phenomenon found principally in what I call Prosperitarianity: Prosperity-Christianity.

Not even traditional African churches such as the Cherubim and Seraphim and Christ Apostolic Church routinely succeed leadership in this worldly manner!

Worldly?

Yes!

You find sons succeeding parents routinely in family businesses and corporate organizations.

If these churches are corporate organizations, then THAT is THAT!!

Let them only admit that they are BUSINESSES, stop the pretence and deceit, and no one cares.

But to pretend these “worship houses” are part of the Body of Christ?

That must be grievous to the Holy Spirit!

The personalization of these churches through hereditary succession must surely raise a profound theological question: if the Holy Spirit truly DID build these churches, should THEY not be afraid to proceed without seeking HIS leading, and without seriously considering the example of the early disciples in a matter as important as choosing a new leader?

My next statement is harsh, but it came to me just now:

“The Holy Spirit appears to do nothing at all, not even express His dislike for these leadership shenanigans, perhaps because He has nothing to do with a self-serving, heretical church system?”

They survive because God is patient and merciful.

NOT a single evangelical church I know meets all the good deeds for which the “Churches in Asia” were commended by Christ in the Book of Revelation. Yet those churches were still condemned, sometimes in extraordinarily strong language, for their shortcomings.

That should make serious Church leaders think.

Deeply.

Isn’t it ironic, and I’ve said this before, that churches such as these, which do not believe in the doctrine of Purgatory, are perhaps the ones which most desperately need it to be true?

I rest my case.

#Dk

#MyFrancisEssays

#WeMove

GRACE WITHOUT DISCIPLINE

 

GRACE WITHOUT DISCIPLINE

Standing before his students, Timotheus reflects on grace, divine discipline and the danger of celebrating another person’s downfall. God may permit disgrace, he argues, not to destroy His child, but to correct, refine and ultimately restore him.

A monologue delivered by Timotheus to his students

Timotheus stands before the students. He writes one word on the blackboard:

GRACE

He turns and studies their faces for a moment.

You have all heard it said:

“All things work together for good to those who love God.”

Romans 8:28.

It is one of the most beautiful promises in Scripture. It tells us that, for those who truly love God, nothing is ever completely wasted.

Not pain.

Not failure.

Not rejection.

Not even disgrace.

God can take the worst moment of a person’s life and bend it towards something good.

If necessary, He will redirect the trajectory of the stars. He will command the light of the sun. He will make the very laws of nature submit to His purpose.

Somehow, He will make all things work together for good.

He pauses.

But there is something dangerous about grace.

Not because grace itself is dangerous, but because human beings can misunderstand it.

When people become too confident that God will rescue them, they may begin to live recklessly.

They stop watching their steps.

They stop listening to correction.

They begin to believe that because God is merciful, consequences no longer exist.

And that is when the Lord brings them under the yoke of discipline.

He turns to the board and writes beneath “GRACE”:

DISCIPLINE

Grace without discipline will eventually end in disgrace.

Let me say it again.

Grace without discipline will end in disgrace.

God loves us too much to allow grace to become an excuse for foolishness. And so, He corrects those He loves. He permits them to stumble. He allows consequences to find them. Sometimes, He lets them walk through humiliation.

Not because He has abandoned them.

Because He is training them.

Timotheus steps closer to the students.

Now listen carefully, because this is where many religious people become cruel.

When you see someone passing through a season of disgrace, do not assume that God has invited you to join in his punishment.

Do not laugh.

Do not mock him.

Do not add weight to the burden already bending his back.

Do not look upon him with disgust and call your cruelty righteousness.

You may think you are helping God to punish him. You may even quote Scripture while you do it.

But God did not place that person in the fire so that you could pour petrol into it.

God may have placed him there to correct him.

To humble him.

To refine him.

And perhaps, one day, to raise him again.

So be careful.

The person you are helping to push down today may be the very person God is preparing to lift tomorrow.

And if you attempt to deepen the disgrace that God is using merely for discipline, you may suddenly discover that you are no longer standing with God.

You are standing against the person God intends to restore.

He looks again at the words on the board.

Yes, all things work together for good to those who love God.

But that promise is not permission to live recklessly.

Those who take grace for granted will be disciplined. God will place them under a yoke until they learn obedience, restraint and wisdom.

Grace is the hand that saves us.

Discipline is the hand that teaches us how to remain standing after we have been saved.

Without grace, discipline may crush a person.

Without discipline, grace may be squandered.

But when grace and discipline work together, disgrace is no longer the end of the story.

Timotheus wipes the word “DISGRACE” from the board and replaces it with:

RESTORATION

Divine discipline is not destruction.

It may hurt like destruction.

It may look like destruction.

The person passing through it may even believe that everything has been lost.

But God is not always tearing down when it appears that He is tearing down.

Sometimes, He is removing what cannot support the life He is preparing to build.

So, when a brother falls, do not dance.

When a sister is disgraced, do not celebrate.

When God is disciplining one of His children, do not volunteer to become His executioner.

Stand nearby.

Pray.

Speak the truth, certainly, but speak it with mercy.

And when the lesson has been learned, extend your hand.

Because the purpose of divine discipline is never humiliation for its own sake.

It is correction.

It is transformation.

It is restoration.

Timotheus turns back to the board. He draws a line connecting the two words.

GRACE → DISCIPLINE → RESTORATION

That, my students, is how all things work together for good.

Religion Is Like a Rolls-Royce

Religion Is Like a Rolls-Royce

They did not expose the inferiority of Christianity.

They simply brought Christianity down to their own level.

The analogy of a car may help explain what I mean.

The Purpose of the Automobile

Cars are involved in accidents. People are injured in cars. People are killed in cars. Cars can even be deliberately used as weapons.

But none of this changes the fundamental purpose of the automobile:

It exists to move us from Point A to Point B.

Its purpose is not redefined by every foolish, careless or wicked person who sits behind the wheel.

Suppose a Man Is Given a Rolls-Royce

What he chooses to do with it does not change what the car is, although he remains accountable for how he uses it.

One man may sell his Rolls-Royce and give the proceeds to charity.

Another may hitch it to a refuse bin and use it to haul rubbish to the dump.

Another may register his as an Uber and spend his days carrying passengers around town.

Someone else may simply park his in the driveway so that the neighbours can admire it.

But through all of this, one fact remains unchanged:

The Rolls-Royce remains a Rolls-Royce.

Its engineering does not deteriorate because its owner behaves foolishly.

Its craftsmanship is not diminished because somebody misuses it.

Its pedigree does not disappear because someone employs it for a purpose its designers never intended.

The misuse may reveal something about the owner.

It does not redefine the car.

Christianity Must Be Judged by Christ

Religion is like that car.

Christianity, in particular, must ultimately be judged by the Christ to whom it points, not merely by every terrible thing human beings have done while carrying His name.

Crusades.

Inquisitions.

Slavery.

Colonialism.

Segregation.

Prosperity preachers.

Political Christianity.

Corruption.

Hypocrisy.

Yes, examine them all.

Condemn what deserves condemnation.

Hold institutions accountable. Hold religious leaders accountable. Hold individual Christians accountable.

But after doing so, ask the more fundamental question:

Was that what Christ taught?

Did Christ teach conquest, racial superiority, exploitation, cruelty, greed or the worship of political power?

Or did human beings take His name, hitch it to their own ambitions and drag it through the refuse of history?

Look at the Driver

A person can use a Rolls-Royce to haul rubbish.

That tells you something about the driver.

It tells you remarkably little about the Rolls-Royce.

In the same way, the corruption of Christianity by Christians does not necessarily disprove Christianity. It proves that human beings are capable of corrupting even the highest ideals placed in their hands.

The question is not merely, “What have Christians done?”

The deeper question is:

What did Christ teach, and how closely have those who invoke His name followed Him?

Christianity does not become false because Christians behave badly.

It means that too many Christians have taken something noble, beautiful and transformative, and brought it down to their own level.

The Rolls-Royce remains a Rolls-Royce.

The tragedy is that many of its supposed drivers have forgotten where it was meant to take them.

THE GOD OF NIAGARA FALLS

THE GOD OF NIAGARA FALLS
Grace, Discipline and the Calling to Become Light

What can Niagara Falls teach us about God’s grace?
Don Kenobi reflects on grace, discipline, restoration and God’s calling for us to become light.

Timotheus walks slowly onto the stage. Behind him is the sound of rushing water. Not music. Water. Immense, unbroken and overwhelming. He stands silently for a moment, listening. Then he walks to the blackboard and writes:

“Because all things work together for good to those who love God.”

He looks towards the students. He listens to the water a little longer, then says quietly, almost to himself: I think that explains it.

ALL THINGS

Not everything that happens to us is good.

He turns from the board.

Let us be clear about that.

Betrayal is not good. Sickness is not good. Failure is not good. Humiliation is not good.

There are things that happen to human beings that are painful, unjust and sometimes almost unbearable.

But here is what Scripture says.

It does not say that all things that happen to us are good. It says, rather, that all things work together for good to those who love God.

He pauses.

To those who love God...

Another pause.

To those who love God...

He looks back at the words on the board.

Think about what that means.

It means that God can take what is not good and compel it to serve something good.

For those who truly love Him...

He pauses, as though reconsidering his words.

No. Let me say that somewhat differently.

The Lord can bend the trajectory of the stars. He can command the very light of the sun. He can summon winds, redirect rivers and make the laws of nature submit to His purpose.

And if that is what it takes...

He looks towards the students.

...then that is what He will do.

He is the Lord.

If that is what it takes, He will bend the stars, command the sun, summon the winds and redirect the rivers to make “all things work together” for your good.

He pauses.

The sound of the water continues.

THE GOD OF NIAGARA FALLS

Have you ever stood before Niagara Falls?

I do not mean that you have seen it in a photograph.
I do not mean that you have watched a video recorded by somebody else.

I mean, have you ever actually stood before it?

Because when you stand there, you do not merely see the water.

You hear it.
You feel it.
You are confronted by its power.

An immeasurable torrent of water plunges over those mighty falls:
Second after second.
Minute after minute....hour after hour, day after day.

It does not pause.
It does not become weary.
It does not stop to ask whether anybody is watching.
It simply pours.

Timotheus listens again.

That is what you have been hearing.

Niagara Falls.

I recorded it myself. And if you look carefully at the video being projected on the screen behind me...

He turns and looks towards the screen.

...you'll see me.

Timotheus pauses. Looks down at his feet. Rubs his chin thoughtfully.

And I think God's grace towards those He loves is like Niagara Falls.

It never ends.

It never pauses.

It never runs dry.

He looks again at the falls.

Think about this.

The God who created those mighty falls knows every molecule of water that tumbles over them.

He knows how much water has passed over them from the beginning of time. He knows how much is falling at this very moment. And He knows how much will flow tomorrow.

He turns slowly towards the students.

That same God knows you.

Not humanity in general.

Not the world as some collective abstraction.

You.

He pauses.

Think about that.

He knows every force that has risen against you. He knows every burden placed upon your shoulders. He knows the wounds you have hidden from those closest to you.

He knows every fear you have concealed, every battle you have fought in silence and everything you will require to overcome whatever opposition stands in your way.

He glances towards the falls again.

His grace for your journey is immeasurable.

He pauses.

The water continues to fall.

But there is something we must understand about grace.

WHEN GRACE IS MISUNDERSTOOD

Grace is not dangerous.

But human beings can become dangerous when we misunderstand it.

When people become too confident that God will always rescue them, they can begin to live recklessly. They stop watching their steps.

They stop examining their conduct. They stop listening to correction.

Eventually, they begin to imagine that because God is merciful, consequences no longer exist.

They tell themselves, “Whatever I do, God will forgive me.”

Timotheus shrugs slightly.

And perhaps He will.

But forgiveness does not always cancel discipline.

He walks to the blackboard and writes beneath the verse:

GRACE

Grace saves us.

But the God who saves us also loves us too much to leave us foolish, arrogant, careless and undisciplined.

And so He brings us under the yoke of correction.

Beneath GRACE, he writes:

DISCIPLINE

Those who rely upon grace while refusing discipline may eventually encounter disgrace.

He turns towards the students.

Grace without discipline will end in disgrace.

Pause.

Let me say that again.

Grace without discipline will end in disgrace.

God does not discipline us because His grace has failed.

He disciplines us because His grace is still working.

Discipline is not necessarily the withdrawal of divine love. Sometimes, it is among the strongest evidence that divine love remains.

Scripture tells us that the Lord disciplines those He loves.

And so He sometimes allows consequences to catch up with us. He permits us to stumble. Sometimes He allows the applause to cease, the doors to close and the things upon which we depended to disappear.

He places us under a yoke until we learn restraint. Until we learn obedience. Until we learn wisdom. Until we finally understand that grace is not permission to live recklessly.

Grace is the hand that saves us.

Discipline is the hand that teaches us how to remain standing after we have been saved.

Timotheus steps closer to the students.

DO NOT HELP GOD PUNISH HIS CHILDREN

But now listen carefully.

Because this is where many religious people become cruel.

When you see a man passing through what you believe to be a season of divine discipline, walking through his season of disgrace, do not take it upon yourself to enjoy his suffering.

Do not mock him. Do not deepen his humiliation. Do not add weight to the burden already bending his back.

And please, do not look upon him with disgust and call your cruelty righteousness.

You may even convince yourself that you are helping God punish him.

He shakes his head.

You are not.

God does not need your assistance to discipline His child.

If God has permitted that person to pass through the fire, He did not put him there so that you could pour petrol into it.

Perhaps the fire is there to correct him. Perhaps to humble him. Perhaps to refine him.

And ultimately, perhaps to raise him again.

What you call his destruction may merely be the dismantling of things that could no longer support his future.

What you call his disgrace may be divine discipline.

And what you think is the conclusion may only be the middle of the story.

He pauses.

So be careful.

The person you are pushing down today may be the very person God is preparing to lift tomorrow.

And if you take it upon yourself to deepen a disgrace that God intends only as discipline, you may suddenly discover something terrifying:

You are no longer merely standing against the person God intends to restore.

He pauses.

You may be standing in opposition to God Himself.

Timotheus lets the words hang for a moment, then walks slowly back to the blackboard.

Beneath DISCIPLINE, he writes:

RESTORATION

THE MIDDLE OF THE STORY

Divine discipline is not necessarily the end of the story.

It may feel like destruction. It may look like destruction. The person passing through it may even believe that everything has been lost.

But God is not always tearing down when it appears that He is tearing down. Sometimes He is removing what cannot support the life He is preparing to build.

He looks at the words on the board.

Grace saves.

Discipline corrects.

Restoration raises.

But why?

Why does God restore us?

Is restoration simply about returning us to comfort? Is it merely about giving us back our possessions, our reputation and our place among other people?

He shakes his head.

No. God restores us so that we may carry His light.

He writes one final word beneath the others:

LIGHT

THE CALLING TO BECOME LIGHT

God wants you to become His light in the world.

That is the destination towards which grace, discipline and restoration are carrying you.

But to become a light, you must first be willing to carry the Light.

You must believe that He is God.

Not a small God.

Not merely the God of the olden days.

Not a God whose power belonged only to Abraham, Moses, David and the prophets.

He is God today.

He is the God of the earth and the heavens. The God of the oceans and the stars.

The God of Niagara Falls and Jupiter.

The God of every distant world we have discovered and every mystery we have not yet begun to comprehend.

He looks towards the students.

And this immeasurable God loves you.

His grace is greater than the waters of Niagara. His discipline is evidence that He has not abandoned you. His restoration is proof that your worst season does not have the authority to write your final chapter.

WHEN A BROTHER FALLS

So when a brother falls, do not dance.
When a sister is disgraced, do not celebrate.

When God is disciplining one of His children, do not volunteer to become His executioner.

Stand nearby.
Pray.
Speak the truth, certainly, but speak it with mercy.

And when the lesson has been learned, extend your hand.

Because you do not know what God intends to make of the person whose humiliation you are presently witnessing.

Yesterday, he may have been reckless.
Today, he may be under discipline.

Tomorrow, he may become a light that leads thousands of people out of darkness.

Timotheus turns towards the blackboard.

Slowly, he draws a line connecting the four words.

GRACE → DISCIPLINE → RESTORATION → LIGHT

He steps back and studies what he has written.

ALL THINGS WORK TOGETHER

Remember what we began with.

He points to the sentence at the top of the board.

“Because all things work together for good to those who love God.”

He looks again at the four words.

Perhaps this is how. Grace finds us. Discipline forms us. Restoration raises us.

And then God sends us back into the world to shine.

The sound of Niagara grows louder.
Timotheus says nothing.
For several seconds, he simply listens.

His grace does not pause.
It does not become weary.
It does not run dry.
It simply pours.

He looks towards the students.

Like Niagara Falls.

Long pause.
Then, almost as quietly as he began:

That is all I have to say about this matter.

Don Kenobi

#MyFrancisEssays
#OldManInTheMolue

THE GOD OF NIAGARA FALLS

Grace, Discipline and the Calling to Become Light

A Timotheus Monologue

Timotheus walks slowly onto the stage. Behind him is the sound of rushing water. Not music. Water. Immense, unbroken and overwhelming.

He stands silently for a moment, listening.

“Because all things work together for good to those who love God.”

He looks towards the students.

I think that explains it.

Not everything that happens to us is good. Let us be clear about that.

Betrayal is not good.

Sickness is not good.

Failure is not good.

Humiliation is not good.

But God can take what is not good and compel it to serve something good.

For those who truly love Him, the Lord can bend the trajectory of the stars. He can command the very light of the sun. He can summon winds, redirect rivers and make the laws of nature submit to His purpose.

Somehow, He will make all things work together for their good.

He gestures towards the sound of the water.

Have you ever stood before Niagara Falls?

I do not mean that you have seen it in a photograph. I do not mean that you have watched a video recorded by somebody else.

Have you ever stood before it?

When you stand there, you do not merely see the water.

You hear it.

You feel it.

You are confronted by its power.

An immeasurable torrent of water plunges over those mighty falls, second after second, minute after minute, day after day.

It does not pause.

It does not become weary.

It does not stop to ask whether anyone is watching.

It simply pours.

And I think God’s grace towards those He loves is like Niagara Falls.

It never ends.

It never pauses.

It never runs dry.

The God who created those mighty falls knows the name of every molecule of water that tumbles over them. He knows how much water has passed over them from the beginning of time. He knows how much is falling at this very moment, and how much will flow tomorrow.

And that same God knows you.

Not humanity in general.

Not the world as a collective abstraction.

You.

He knows every force that has risen against you. He knows every burden placed upon your shoulders. He knows the wounds you have hidden from those closest to you. He knows every fear you have concealed, every battle you have fought in silence and everything you will require to overcome what stands before you.

His grace is immeasurable.

But there is something we must understand about grace.

Not because grace is dangerous, but because human beings can become dangerous when we misunderstand it.

When people become too confident that God will always rescue them, they may begin to live recklessly.

They stop watching their steps.

They stop examining their conduct.

They stop listening to correction.

They begin to imagine that because God is merciful, consequences no longer exist.

They tell themselves, “Whatever I do, God will forgive me.”

And perhaps He will.

But forgiveness does not always cancel discipline.

Timotheus walks to the blackboard and writes one word:

GRACE

Grace saves us.

But the God who saves us also loves us too much to leave us foolish, arrogant, careless and undisciplined.

And so, He brings us under the yoke of correction.

Beneath the first word, he writes:

DISCIPLINE

Those who rely upon grace but refuse discipline may eventually encounter disgrace.

Grace without discipline will end in disgrace.

Let me say it again.

Grace without discipline will end in disgrace.

God does not discipline us because His grace has failed.

He disciplines us because His grace is still working.

Discipline is not the withdrawal of divine love. Sometimes, it is the strongest evidence that divine love remains.

Scripture tells us that the Lord disciplines those He loves.

He allows consequences to catch up with us. He permits us to stumble. Sometimes, He allows the applause to cease, the doors to close and the things upon which we depended to disappear.

He places us under a yoke until we learn restraint.

Until we learn obedience.

Until we learn wisdom.

Until we learn that grace is not permission to live recklessly.

Grace is the hand that saves us.

Discipline is the hand that teaches us how to remain standing after we have been saved.

He steps closer to the students.

But now listen carefully, because this is where many religious people become cruel.

When you see a man being disciplined by God, walking through his season of disgrace, do not take it upon yourself to enjoy his suffering.

Do not mock him.

Do not deepen his humiliation.

Do not add weight to the burden already bending his back.

Do not look upon him with disgust and call your cruelty righteousness.

You may think you are helping God to punish him.

You are not.

God does not need your assistance to discipline His child.

He did not place that person in the fire so that you could pour petrol into it.

He may have placed him there to correct him.

To humble him.

To refine him.

And ultimately, to raise him again.

What you call his destruction may only be the dismantling of the things that could no longer support his future.

What you call his disgrace may be divine discipline.

What you think is the conclusion may only be the middle of the story.

So be careful.

The person you are pushing down today may be the very person God is preparing to lift tomorrow.

And if you attempt to deepen the disgrace that God is using merely for discipline, you may suddenly discover that you are no longer standing with God.

You are standing against the person God intends to restore.

Timotheus writes a third word beneath the others:

RESTORATION

Divine discipline is never the end of the story.

Its purpose is not destruction.

It may feel like destruction.

It may look like destruction.

The person passing through it may believe that everything has been lost.

But God is not always tearing down when it appears that He is tearing down.

Sometimes, He is removing what cannot support the life He is preparing to build.

Grace saves.

Discipline corrects.

Restoration raises.

And what is the purpose of restoration?

Is it simply to return us to comfort?

Is it merely to give us back our possessions, our reputation and our place among other people?

No.

God restores us so that we may carry His light.

He writes one final word:

LIGHT

God wants you to become His light in the world.

That is the destination towards which grace and discipline are carrying you.

But to become a light, you must first be willing to carry the Light.

You must believe that He is God.

Not a small God.

Not merely the God of the olden days.

Not a God whose power belonged only to Abraham, Moses, David and the prophets.

He is God today.

He is the God of the earth and the heavens.

The God of the oceans and the stars.

The God of Niagara Falls and Jupiter.

The God of every distant world we have discovered and every mystery we cannot yet comprehend.

And this immeasurable God loves you.

His grace is greater than the waters of Niagara. His discipline is evidence that He has not abandoned you. His restoration is proof that your worst season does not have the authority to write your final chapter.

So, when a brother falls, do not dance.

When a sister is disgraced, do not celebrate.

When God is disciplining one of His children, do not volunteer to become His executioner.

Stand nearby.

Pray.

Speak the truth, certainly, but speak it with mercy.

And when the lesson has been learned, extend your hand.

For you do not know what God intends to make of the person whose humiliation you are presently witnessing.

Yesterday, he may have been reckless.

Today, he may be under discipline.

Tomorrow, he may become a light that leads thousands of people out of darkness.

Timotheus turns towards the board. Slowly, he draws a line connecting the four words:

GRACE → DISCIPLINE → RESTORATION → LIGHT

That is how all things work together for good.

Grace finds us.

Discipline forms us.

Restoration raises us.

And then God sends us back into the world to shine.

The sound of the rushing water grows louder.

His grace does not pause.

It does not become weary.

It does not run dry.

It simply pours.

Like Niagara Falls.

That is all I have to say about this matter

Selective Justice Is Not Justice

Selective Justice Is Not Justice

People believe what they want to believe.

They do not want to take a stand that might cost them something. They do not want to extend themselves beyond the boundaries of the causes they have already chosen, or the battles they have already imagined themselves fighting.

This is what perplexes me.

I have discussions with people whom I know to be highly intelligent. In many other conversations, they demonstrate an impressive ability to reason, analyse and follow evidence wherever it leads.

But introduce certain subjects, particularly Israel and Palestine, and suddenly their logic disappears.

They say things like:

“The land belonged to the Jews 2,000 years ago.”

And I am left wondering: What exactly does that mean?

Does that give anyone the right to arrive today, drive people from their homes, seize their land, restrict their movement and imprison them for years because the land supposedly belonged to their ancestors two millennia ago?

How does that make sense?

Propaganda can imprison the mind so completely that you find yourself explaining things to intelligent adults that they would ordinarily understand without difficulty.

Palestinians possess deeds, records and legal documentation showing ownership of their homes and land. In Nigerian terms, think of something resembling a Certificate of Occupancy, a C of O. These were not empty spaces waiting for someone to claim them. People lived there. Families owned homes, cultivated land and built communities there.

Now imagine that you are from southeastern Nigeria and you lawfully purchase a large piece of land in Lagos. The government recognises your ownership and gives you the necessary documents.

Then, one day, another group arrives from the Republic of Benin and declares:

“This land belonged to our ancestors 2,000 years ago.”

They proceed to drive you out. They also drive out the Yoruba family that originally sold the land to you.

Would that make sense?

Would ancient ancestry automatically cancel your ownership, your home and your humanity?

Put yourself in that position.

But many people cannot, or will not, place themselves in the position of the Palestinian. Truth is not necessarily what they are seeking. Justice is not necessarily what they desire.

What they want is selective justice.

And selective justice is not justice at all.

This is one of my deepest problems with much of evangelical Christianity. It emerged, in significant part, from a culture shaped by white supremacy, and it has too often trained Black Christians to adopt the worldview of those who once regarded them as inferior.

The message is subtle but unmistakable:

“Hate whom we hate. Love whom we love. Defend what we defend, and you will be accepted. Those people on the other side of the fence are beneath you because they are beneath us.”

It turns Black Christians into spiritual house servants, desperate for approval from a master whose racial hierarchy they have absorbed as theology.

Justice becomes secondary.

Belonging becomes everything.

Acceptance depends on occupying the correct position on an imagined ladder of race, religion and civilisation. The objective is not to stand with the oppressed, but to receive the approval of those who have decided who is worthy of sympathy and who is not.

It is mind-blowing.

Perhaps this is why I am so opposed to this corrupted form of evangelical Christianity, and why I become especially angry when Black Christians subscribe to it so uncritically.

It contradicts the mission of Christ.

It misrepresents the nature of Christ.

Christ came to set captives free. He did not set one group free so that it could place its knee upon the neck of another. He did not come merely for our nation, our race, our tribe or the people whose suffering we find politically convenient.

He came for the oppressed.

All of them.

And any Christianity that requires us to deny another people’s humanity is not defending Christ.

It is denying Him.

Don Kenobi

#MyFrancisEssays

If There Are Fifty Righteous? Abraham’s Plea for Innocent Lives

If There Are Fifty Righteous…

Don Kenobi reflects on Abraham’s plea for Sodom and asks an urgent question for our time: Can any cause justify the indiscriminate destruction of innocent lives?

At its heart is a timeless moral truth: we have a duty to defend the innocent, whoever they are.

Abraham Negotiates With God

I have just watched a documentary about Abraham. The scene that stayed with me was the moment God revealed His intention to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham began what can only be described as a negotiation with God.

Abraham asked:

“What if there are fifty righteous people in the city? Will You really sweep them away with the wicked?”

God answered that He would spare the entire city for the sake of those fifty.

But Abraham continued. What if there were forty-five? Forty? Thirty? Twenty? Finally, ten?

Each time, God assured him that He would not destroy the city if that number of righteous people could be found within it.

Later, I would like to estimate the population of Sodom and Gomorrah at the time and calculate what percentage fifty people represented. That calculation matters, and I will explain why.

Sodom’s Sin Was Bigger Than Sexual Immorality

The angels eventually entered Sodom, and we know what followed. The men of the city, young and old, surrounded Lot’s house and demanded access to his visitors. The account presents a society in which corruption had become almost universal and every boundary of decency had collapsed.

It is easy to look at Sodom and Gomorrah entirely through the prism of sexual immorality. But sexual immorality was only one manifestation of a much deeper corruption.

The prophet Ezekiel described Sodom’s sin more broadly:

“She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.”

A society may incur the wrath of God through many forms of wickedness. Its sin does not have to be sexual.

Cruelty is immorality. Oppression is immorality. Indifference to suffering is immorality. The destruction of innocent lives is immorality.

Shall Not the Judge of All the Earth Do Right?

This is what gives Abraham’s conversation with God such profound contemporary meaning.

Abraham was not defending wickedness. He was pleading for justice. He was asking whether the innocent should be destroyed alongside the guilty:

“Will You indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”

That question echoes through history.

For me, Abraham represents the godly person who sees even one innocent life as worthy of defence. He stands before God and makes the case for people he does not know.

His intercession tells us that protecting innocent life is not weakness, sentimentality or betrayal. It is an expression of justice itself.

No Cause Makes Innocent Blood Insignificant

The indiscriminate destruction of innocent people is ungodly.

To believe that children, families and ordinary people may simply be sacrificed for a cause requires a terrible moral surrender. No cause, however loudly proclaimed, can make the blood of the innocent insignificant.

People who believe that others must die for their cause may claim the moral high ground, but their willingness to destroy innocent lives reveals the opposite.

How Loud Must Their Cries Be in Heaven?

Think about what the cries of Sodom and Gomorrah represented. The cries of its victims rose to God, and God heard them.

Now think about the cries of innocent people today.

Think of the children.

Think of the terrified families.

Think of those buried beneath the consequences of decisions they did not make.

If their cries reached heaven, how loud would they be?

That is all I have to say about this matter.

Don Kenobi 

#MyFrancisEssays #Abraham
#SodomAndGomorrah
#Justice #InnocentLives
#FaithAndConscience #ChristianReflection

FOOL ME TWICE
Peter Obi, Political Structure and the Refusal to Learn

What happens when a political movement refuses to examine its own mistakes? A reflection on Peter Obi, the 2023 election, political structure, the Obidient movement and the danger of repeating yesterday's strategy while expecting tomorrow's miracle.

Dear Eustace,

To answer your question: Do I hate Peter Obi?

Why would I?

I ought to assume that he does what he does from the bottom of his heart. I ought to. But as time has dragged on, I increasingly find that I cannot. Increasingly, I find myself wondering whether much of this is simply a game of politics and self-service.

I'll come back to that.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Am I angry with Peter Obi? Yes.

Because I believe his lassitude, his political know-it-all-ness, and his failure to confront his own strategic deficiencies contributed enormously to Tinubu's victory in 2023.

Had he settled down, looked beyond the excitement surrounding his candidacy and subjected his own campaign to ruthless analysis, he might have seen the obvious weaknesses. Geography was not in his favour. Political structure was not in his favour. The entrenched machinery of the parties he sought to defeat was certainly not in his favour.

And enthusiasm was never going to be enough.

One of our problems as a people is that we do not pay sufficient attention. I fully understand that not everyone is given that grace. I regard discernment itself as a grace. But if you do not see something, at least listen to those who might.

Don't reduce every warning to hate, envy, jealousy or tribalism. Because then we remain trapped, consistently trying to solve problems at the same level of thinking that created them.

I remember some legislator in Abuja once suggesting that the solution to militancy in the Niger Delta was essentially to absorb the militants into the armed forces.

Think about that. What rank would you give those who already call themselves "General"? And if unrest continued, what next? Absorb everybody into the Army? Who pays their salaries?

Meanwhile, ideas such as legislators pooling even six months of constituency allowances to establish food-processing industries, create agricultural value chains and make farming commercially viable do not cross his closed mind.

We keep treating symptoms because systems thinking is hard.

Which brings me back to Peter Obi.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Perhaps Peter Obi did not fool us the first time. Perhaps he fooled himself.

Perhaps he genuinely believed that a half-tepid, half-timid, blunt, unsharpened and ultimately inadequate campaign strategy was sufficient to prise power away from a ruthless and deeply entrenched political establishment.

"WE HAVE MASTERED THIS GAME"

Before the 2023 election, I attended a church event where I spoke with an APC chieftain from Edo State about Peter Obi's chances.

He laughed me to scorn.

"We have mastered this game," he told me. He explained that party organisation went right down to election-day behaviour. Then he waved away my optimism about Obi:

"Leave dat tin! We lose no sleep over Peter Obi."

I wrote about that encounter immediately afterwards.

Go and verify. 😊

And as the campaign progressed, I became increasingly strident in my criticism of Obi's lukewarm, half-here, half-there approach.

WHEN THE STARS ALIGN

When the stars align, I think one of two things may be happening: Divine judgment or Divine grace.

For divine judgment, sometimes all that is required is the withdrawal of light. Darkness follows, discernment disappears, and people become capable of believing falsehood with extraordinary fervour.

There is an eerie biblical description of something like this in 2 Thessalonians 2:11, the "strong delusion" by which people come to believe what is false.

But when grace provides an opening, there will always be forces determined to misalign the stars.

Which is why I have said it before, and will say it again:

Obama's 2008 campaign remains one of the royal standards for refusing to waste a political moment.

You roll up your sleeves and traverse the country. Crucially, you don't spend all your time where everybody already loves you.

You go where the language is different, where the culture is different, where the religion is different. You go where people may distrust you and where you may receive a hostile reception.

You may not win their love, but you may win their respect.

Who remembers Joe the Plumber, the man who confronted Obama with difficult questions?

That encounter mattered because politics cannot merely be a procession of believers applauding their candidate. A candidate seeking to govern a complicated country must deliberately encounter people who do not already believe in him.

Peter Obi, by contrast, ran what became largely a populist campaign. And, astonishingly for a man seeking to wrest power from two enormous political machines, he repeatedly appeared to dismiss the importance of political structure:

"The people are my structure!"

"The people will defend their mandate."

"I don't need a manifesto. Go and see what I did in Anambra State."

Let us examine those propositions.

1. YOU NEED STRUCTURE

An army of one million people without formation can be defeated by 10,000 disciplined, organised and properly commanded soldiers.

Numbers are not structure. Enthusiasm is not structure. Virality is not structure. Crowds are not structure.

Peter Obi could have made one simple announcement:

"I need 100 volunteers from each of Nigeria's 774 local government areas."

That gives you 77,400 people. Ask each one to recruit another ten volunteers and suddenly you have the beginnings of a nationwide political army approaching 800,000 people.

Then tell the movement:

"Obidients, we now have nearly 800,000 volunteers nationwide. We need your donations more desperately than ever to train them, coordinate them, equip them and keep our operations running."

What could be simpler?

You begin converting enthusiasm into organisation, organisation into presence, presence into intelligence, and intelligence into election-day capability.

Instead, we heard repeatedly that structure was unnecessary.

We've seen how that panned out.

2. "THE PEOPLE WILL DEFEND THEIR MANDATE"

How?

"The people" cannot defend a mandate merely by being numerous any more than an amorphous army of one million can necessarily defeat 10,000 disciplined soldiers operating under a coherent command structure.

Who coordinates them? Who trains the polling agents? Who gathers intelligence? Who communicates when something goes wrong? Who collates results and documents irregularities? Who gets evidence to the right place quickly? Who provides transport, food, legal support, communications and logistics?

That is what structure means.

It is not merely a collection of party grandees sitting in Abuja.

Structure is the machinery that converts political preference into political action.

3. "GO AND VERIFY WHAT I DID IN ANAMBRA"

Fine.

What exactly did you do?

More importantly, what parts of that record constitute a replicable governing philosophy for a federation of more than 200 million people?

A presidential campaign cannot simply be:

"I governed Anambra. Go and check."

Nigeria is not Anambra multiplied by 36.

A candidate for president owes the country a coherent theory of government: what he believes, what he intends to change, how he intends to change it, what systems he intends to build and how those systems will survive him.

FAST-FORWARD TO 2026

Anyway...

Fast-forward to 2026.

Peter Obi wants the same office. And from where I sit, I am seeing far too much of the same script.

That is where my problem lies.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

What troubles me even more is that, four years later, many of his most passionate supporters still seem unable to identify one consequential thing Peter Obi himself got wrong.

Not one.

Everything was somebody else's fault: INEC, APC, PDP, the judiciary, tribalism, religion, rigging, the establishment.

Perhaps some, or even many, of those criticisms have merit. But surely a serious political movement must also possess the intellectual courage to turn the mirror upon itself and ask:

WHAT DID WE GET WRONG?

Where was our strategy deficient? Where did our candidate miscalculate? Which constituencies did we fail to reach? What organisation did we fail to build? What assumptions turned out to be false?

And, most importantly:

What must we do differently?

That is what learning looks like.

Instead, we appear ready to do the same thing again: support the same candidate, using substantially the same methods, making substantially the same assumptions, dismissing substantially the same warnings, and expecting a miracle.

I truly wish I could simply believe that the outcome will somehow be different this time.

I cannot.

That is not hatred. It is not envy. It is not bitterness. It is the refusal to surrender one's judgment to a political movement simply because one once believed in it.

I supported Peter Obi. I wanted him to succeed.

But support must never require the suspension of thought, and loyalty must never become an excuse for refusing to learn.

Independent thinking is a privilege. I cherish that privilege.

And I reserve the right to change my mind when the evidence before me changes.

I rest my case.

Don Kenobi

#OldManInTheMolue
#IndependentThinking
#CultureNotStructure
#BigAgendaAfrica 

The Nicene Creed and the Great Filtration

THE NICENE CREED AND THE GREAT FILTRATION

What if the trials of life are more than things happening to us?

What if they are part of a filtration process?

The Nicene Creed tells us that Christ “will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and His kingdom will have no end.”

A reflection on whether the choices we make, especially in times of trial and tribulation, reveal what we are, before the judgment that precedes the Kingdom without end.

I’ve been thinking about the Nicene Creed...

If you are a Christian and actually consider what you profess in that Creed, you begin to realize that perhaps everything we go through in our daily lives is part of a filtration process.

Consider this:

“He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and His kingdom will have no end.”

Consider that.

Judgment.

The Creed places judgment immediately before the Kingdom that has no end. Why? Because judgment is the great separation.

The wheat from the tares. The sheep from the goats.

Those who merely professed Christ from those who actually became Christlike. And ultimately, those who will dwell in the Kingdom that has no end.

If that is true, then the trials of this life begin to look rather different. They are not merely things happening to us. They may also be revealing what we truly are... before Christ.

Perhaps then, this life is not simply about what happens to us. Perhaps it is also about what those experiences reveal about us.

What does suffering produce in me? What does injustice expose in me? What happens to my Christianity when I am hurt? What happens to my love when the person standing before me becomes difficult to love?

Because if there will ultimately be a judgment of the living and the dead, then how we respond to the circumstances of this life cannot be irrelevant.

Which brings me back to the Creed.

“For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate; He suffered death and was buried.”

For our sake.

What does for our sake mean?

Because of us.

For our benefit.

For our good.

Without becoming tedious about it, surely we can agree that very few trials we encounter could approach the excruciating horror of Christ’s Passion.

Yet Christ endured.

And being Christlike must therefore mean, among other things, learning to endure suffering without allowing suffering to transform us into something contrary to Christ.

Pain cannot become our licence to hate. Persecution cannot become our permission to persecute. Injustice cannot become our justification for injustice. The wickedness of another person cannot become our excuse for wickedness.

“For our sake, He suffered under Pontius Pilate.”

There is something enormous hidden inside those few words.

There is a temptation, when we have suffered, to believe that our suffering gives us certain permissions: permission to hate, permission to retaliate, permission to dehumanize, permission to become cruel because someone else was cruel first.

But Christianity presents us with an uncomfortable question:

What if the trial itself is revealing whether Christ has actually taken root in us?

It is easy to love when love costs nothing. It is easy to preach forgiveness when nobody has injured you. It is easy to speak about mercy when you are not the person being asked to extend it.

The test comes when Christianity becomes expensive.

Understandably, perhaps, this Christ, the Christ who suffered, seems too weak for many Christians today.

There are telltale signs. They shout when they pray, as though Christ might otherwise not hear them. He seems too lethargic, perhaps, and must be roused.

And apparently, shouting is not enough.

In addition to shouting loudly from the pulpit, He needs sacrifices from you. Your sacrifice demonstrates just how serious you are about your request. You must somehow persuade God that you really, really mean it.

After all, it increasingly seems to be about:

“YOUR will be done.”

Not God’s will.

Yours.

And so, consciously or unconsciously, we begin constructing another Christ. A Christ of political power. A Christ who conquers governments. A Christ who needs presidents, armies, legislatures and political movements to establish His dominion.

“Oh, I’m a proud Christian nationalist!” they cry.

Even Africans among them.

But again, the Nicene Creed interrupts us:

“He will come again in glory...”

Notice the words:

He will come.

Not:

“You will bring Him.”

And when?

Christ Himself tells us that no one knows the day or the hour.

And when He does come, He will not require our permission, our political coalition, our parliamentary majority, our preferred president or our military assistance.

The Kingdom does not await our ability to seize enough earthly power to install its King.

God has not asked us to manufacture the Second Coming.

What, then, has He asked us to do?

Love until He returns.

That’s it. Frighteningly simple.

Love.

Especially the unlovable.

Love the wicked. Love the unworthy. Love the rejected. Love the person who cannot repay you. Love the person whose politics disgust you. Love the person whose religion frightens you. Love the person who hates you.

Love.

Not because they deserve it, but because Christ loved us before we deserved it.

And then?

Become light.

Christ said:

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”

Notice something. He did not say that people would glorify God because of our Christian slogans, or our political victories, or the size of our churches, or our performances before enormous crowds.

He spoke of our works.

When people encounter your compassion and find themselves wondering, What kind of God produces a person who behaves like this? ...you have become a little light in the darkness.

Light of the world. Salt of the earth.

There is another side to this.

When people look perplexed at the God you claim to serve precisely because of your cruelty, indifference, hatred, greed, tribalism, racism, violence or absence of charity, then you have made the world a little darker and placed an additional burden upon the remaining lights, which must take up the slack and shine brighter.

Perhaps that is partly why Christ said that if His disciples became silent, the very stones would cry out.

The balance of Light shining on earth will not be diminished because you refuse to shine.

When you don’t shine, that grace is given to someone, something, to shine.

Somewhere.

Because:

“His Kingdom will have no end.”

(And will not be delayed)

So?
So do yourself a favour.
Let your works so shine...

Where was I?
Ahhh...
The Nicene Creed.

Hmmm...

Perhaps Christians who do not yet say it should consider saying it, and those of us who already say it should stop merely reciting it and start wondering what we are actually saying.

And those who have never heard of it?

Learn it. Memorize it. And when you recite it, do so slowly.

Very slowly.
Because those few paragraphs contain an extraordinary question:

If this is truly what I believe, what manner of person should I be?

Don Kenobi

#MyFrancisEssays
#OldManInTheMolue
#ChristianityWithoutApologies