I think the best way to start today is to quote a comment from UK Fred. For we all end up teaching. At times we are the competent one in the group. But that does not mean we should accede to the feelings of others, nor water down the truth in a false search for approval.
I am concerned about the numbers in the church, those that some call “churchians” who do not expect there to be any trouble and opposition. When I recall some sermons I have heard, one in particular where the preacher was more concerned that we should be sensitive to our hearers feelings than we should communicate the Gospel, I sometimes wonder if the lunatics have taken over the asylum.
And the fact we are the competent one, or the appointed one, does not mean we are without error. We are in error. Over the last two days I have written two lectures. And I’m continually cutting and pasting parts of research papers — to show the evidence. I’m trying to show what we know now. In two years, if I revisit the same topic, I fully expect to have to completely rewrite the slides.
For every technical field moves continually.
In Christ, our technique is to know the Gospel and the power of this> it’s simple, but that makes it difficult.
1Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. 2For all of us make many mistakes. Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. 3If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. 4Or look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. 5So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits.
How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! 6And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of nature, and is itself set on fire by hell. 7For every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, 8but no one can tame the tongue — a restless evil, full of deadly poison. 9With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. 10From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. 11Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water? 12Can a fig tree, my brothers and sisters, yield olives, or a grapevine figs? No more can salt water yield fresh.
This started out as a political blog (seriously) that morphed into a daily walk through the lectionary for completely selfish reasons. I’m lazy but obsessive, and the blog is enough to trigger the obsessionality so that doing this has become a habit.
Ecclesiastically, I am laos, a pew warmer. My one service in Church is to stand behind a set of stairs (with an open drop) that the kids sit on during the children’s talk. I’m an ecclesiastical backstop.
Now, we are accountable for what we say and write, but we are never perfect. On my more anxious days, I think that any popular post occurs when I’m angry and I’m basically cursing in an erudite fashion.
We may be able to edit what we have up, but it does not go away — Google and the NSA keep everything.
So each of us is accountable for our words, and those who have responsibility for others are doubly accountable. This means elders, pastors and bishops (the Greek is presbyter, remember and it is translated variously bishops and elders — pastors is a misuse of a different gifting and calling). parents and grandparents, husbands and wives.
For we are accountable. And the blogosphere is speech.
I try to do what it is I seem to be supposed to be doing… exhorting… I don’t know if I’m good at it or not, but YES. We are all accountable. I want to be accounted as using what talents I’ve been given to the good of the Gospel.
I prefer to self-police, and post semi-anonymously as I do, for a reason; elders are not perfect, they’re all too human like ourselves, and I don’t want, if they be churchian in some tendencies, to judge me accordingly; I will not let them.
Oh, the elders in my church know about the blog.
Oh yeah? What do they think of it?
They don’t say much: Presbyterian non directiveness.