The Remedy for the Power-Obsessed Christian
If I’m being honest, I find the state of our public rhetoric stomach-turning. The nature of what passes for conversation on news shows and social media is disheartening. And much of it from Christians. Somewhere along the way, many people who claim to be followers of Christ have come to feel that it was OK to speak despairingly about others, to make fun of them, to launch personal attacks, to spread falsehoods (sometimes knowingly), and to otherwise conduct themselves in ways that are in stark contrast to the letter and spirit of Scripture.
When pointed out, there is often little to no accountability or recognition of this disconnect. The response is often either to double down on the abuse or to redirect a new attack on the one attempting to point out the wrong: "You can't judge me!" "Call me when you're perfect, then we'll talk."
The ultimate ill at the heart of the matter is, of course, sinfulness. But I think the specific leaning that drives much of this divisive, critical discourse goes by another name: power.
I believe that much of the discourse happening in our culture centers around the desire for power, both in the moment (in the individual conversation or interaction) and in a larger context (a desire to be on the "right" or "winning" side.) I believe that many Christians have become intoxicated by power. And if we bring this lens to Scripture and what the Bible says God expects of His children, we find that nothing is more anathema to Christian character than the pursuit of power.
From the Old Testament to the New Testament, Scripture calls Christians to embody a specific characteristic that is utterly at odds with our culture: gentleness. The Apostle Paul is especially mindful of it.
Nothing says more about the cultural context we find ourselves in than our reaction to that word. Do you get a positive or a negative vibe when considering it? If I asked you to describe “gentleness,” how long before the thought of "weakness" enters your mind? Are you mindful of being gentle with your spouse or co-workers? As you think about your children and who you want them to be, do you think about them being gentle? As a dad, I don't recall many conversations around the ballfield, talking to other dads, that goi like this:
DAD 1: We've got a new pitching coach for my son. I hope he can get on top of his curveball this year. Maybe this is the year.
DAD 2: Yeah, I get it. I'm just hoping my son really grasps the concept of gentleness, you know? I just want this to be the year where he's really gentle."
It's an absurd conversation because our culture, and if we're honest, many Christians, has drifted so far from seeing gentleness as a quality to be admired. Maybe it's because we've lost sight of the biblical meaning of this concept.
When Paul commands us in Ephesians 2 and elsewhere to be gentle, he's not implying any of the meaning we stereotypically associate with gentleness.
The biblical concept of "gentleness" is very unique. The biblical idea of gentleness is not weakness. Or meekness. Or softness. When Paul commands us to be gentle, what he means is "power held under control." [i] That’s the biblical definition of gentleness: a controlling of our power. But what does it look like to control or withhold our power?
To control our power is to not make someone feel less. It's not making someone feel other. It's not responding in anger when anger would be appropriate. It's not "owning" someone when you absolutely could. It's holding back when you've got the upper hand over someone. Especially when they know it, and you know it, and you could really put the screws on them. It's not excluding others when it would be easy to do so. Gentleness is not making people feel stupid for making a mistake, especially if their actions justify it. Gentleness is looking out for others. And don't forget that gentleness is a fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5), which reminds us that gentleness is a result of the Spirit working in us to produce this virtue.
Ultimately, though, we are expected to be gentle because our Savior was gentle.
The book, "Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund is one of the best books I've read in years. It explores the heart of Christ, specifically His gentle and compassionate nature toward sinners and sufferers. The book draws from Matthew 11:28–30, where Jesus says,
[28] Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. [29] Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. [30] For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
Ortlund's profound point in the book is that this is Jesus describing Himself, telling us the very nature of His heart. And what does He say? He is "gentle and lowly." Christ's deepest desire is to show mercy, love, and grace to those who come to Him in their weakness.
In the book, Ortlund says this:
In the one place in the Bible where the Son of God pulls back the veil and lets us peer way down into who he is, we are not told that he is 'austere and demanding in heart.' We are not told that he is 'exalted and dignified in heart.' We are not even told that he is 'joyful and generous in heart.' Letting Jesus set the terms, his surprising claim is that he is 'gentle and lowly in heart.'
If this is how our Savior defines himself, shouldn't we, as Christians, strive for the same? If Jesus, the author of our faith, approaches those who rebelled and rejected Him in their sin with gentleness, shouldn't we approach others that way?
If gentleness is power held under control, the opposite of gentleness is a misuse of power. And what we see repeatedly in our public discourse is a misuse of or, in the worst cases, abuse of power. Where does this come from? Again, the root of the issue is our sinfulness. But insecurity is often at the heart of a misuse of our power or a rejection of gentleness. An insecurity that says, “I am not enough.” For the Christian who misuses power, there is often an insecurity that says, “Christ is not enough.”
At the center of all sin is the attitude that says, "my will be done." My will, my desires, my cunning, my understanding, my wisdom, my effort, my skills, my force of will. What I want, I get. This is the generative urge that sets us against God, from the smallest act of rebellion to the largest. "I want what I want and will get it according to my power. I want X, and I will do Y to get it."
If left unchecked, this posture leads to calcification, a hardening of our hearts toward God and others. Every single time we rebel against God, our hearts become more calloused. Every time we railroad someone, every time we forcefully get our way, every time we bulldoze others, our hearts grow harder. The abrasive nature of sin paves over our hearts.
If we don't try to fight our worst tendencies as humans, we turn around and find that we have become hard, short, distempered, sharp people. And who pays the price? Those nearest to us.
There is a solution to the hardening of our hearts. It's found in the Old Testament words of Ezekiel. In Ezekiel 36: 22-25, God speaks to a rebellious people, His people, a nation that has forsaken Him. They have turned from Him and experienced His judgment. But God promises to restore and redeem them, not only for their sake but for the glory of His name. This is a promise for Israel in the Old Testament, but there are Messianic overtones. God says all this He will do for them despite their rebellion. He says He'll gather them from being scattered. He'll restore them. He'll cleanse them.
And then, in Ezekiel 36:26–28, he says something profound.
[26] And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. [27] And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. [28] You shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers, and you shall be my people, and I will be your God.
And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. In Christ, we are given a new heart. The Gospel is all about heart renewal—a once-and-for-all transformation of our hearts, a shattering of the concrete heart, and the gifting of a soft, vibrant heart.
But because we are sinful, we must continually strive to partner with the Spirit in sanctification. We must work to pursue soft-heartedness by being humble, servant-minded, and gentle. That's the picture of a person after God's heart.
As we consider our public witness and how we conduct ourselves in our culture's conversational spaces, we would do well to remember the call to gentleness, a conscious checking of our power, because it is a call for God's children to emulate the very heart of their Father.
[i]Kenneth L. Boles, Galatians & Ephesians, The College Press NIV Commentary (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1993), Eph 4:2.
This article originally appeared in Volume 36 of my free newsletter, Good For You.
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