Humility

The Plagiarism Trap

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One day, as Jesus was teaching the people in the temple and preaching the gospel, the chief priests and the scribes with the elders came up and said to him, “Tell us by what authority you do these things, or who it is that gave you this authority.” He answered them, “I also will ask you a question. Now tell me, Was the baptism of John from heaven or from man?” And they discussed it with one another, saying, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say, ‘Why did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From man,’ all the people will stone us to death, for they are convinced that John was a prophet.” So they answered that they did not know where it came from. And Jesus said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.”
—Luke 20:1-8 ESV

Last week, The Wall Street Journal—my personal newspaper of record—ran a front page article discussing the issue of plagiarizing sermons (“That Sermon You Heard on Sunday May Be From the Web“). Some churches and pastors think nothing of using a message already delivered, while others grow livid at the very idea. I’ve followed the issue across several blogs (Challies.com had the most extensive discussion), but it appears to me, now that the dust has settled, that the discussion danced around core issues no one confronted.

Ultimately, the issue of plagiarizing sermons sets multiple traps.

Consider the Luke passage above. Jesus sets up a fork for the Jewish leaders, forcing them down two roads, neither of which they wish to commit to.

To discuss plagiarizing sermons, we must begin with the ultimate source of a sermon message: Does our preaching ultimately have its source in men or in God? 

The Bible makes it crystal clear that our preaching comes from God:

And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.

…

Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual. The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. The spiritual person judges all things, but is himself to be judged by no one. “For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?” But we have the mind of Christ.
—1 Corinthians 2:1-5, 12-16 ESV

Plagiarism argues the source of the words is wronged by their taking and should seek redress. It also states the plagiarizer deceitfully passes off the words he speaks as his own.

But if anyone reading now can make a case that anything you or I own has its final source not in God, but humankind, I’d love to hear that argument!

This brings us to the other fork. If we don’t fully believe that God is the one who owns the words that come out of a preacher’s mouth, then those words are merely words of clever men. If that’s the case, then God have mercy on us because we’ve removed Christ from our preaching. Evangelist Billy SundayThe Jewish leaders fell into this problem with the source of John’s baptism, and we merely repeat it.

The converse of this is that an avowed atheist could stand up in a church pulpit and read from the Bible with an actor’s passion, yet would anyone define that as pastoral preaching of the word, especially by the standard some insisting upon in their attacks on sermon plagiarism?

When we discuss this issue, this is the major dilemma we face. We can get all riled up about preaching the word, but then we shoot ourselves by insisting that somehow we’re the true source of that word.

But we aren’t.

Here’s what truly makes me shake my head: The people arguing most fiercely for punishing plagiarism are the same folks who uphold a high view of preaching. Yet by their very arguments, if they make a claim on a message, they strip out God and ascribe it to men. If they insist they’re not doing that, then they agree that God is still speaking.

God is still speaking? Wow, that sounds a lot like what those nutty charismatics believe! Yet you’d be hardpressed to get many of the folks who would argue that sermons aren’t messages that originate solely with men to buy that logical outcome.

If the primary issue here comes down to whether or not the Gospel is preached, does it matter if the person delivering the message was the first person to deliver it? If we humans can’t improve on the Scriptures already delivered to us, then what is being added to an exposition of those Scriptures that makes it rooted to one church on one Sunday, delivered by one human being?

Many argue against re-using a message, but that’s illogical if the message is inspired by God. Did the sermon get preached once and then no longer apply anywhere? Does God’s message return void after it’s been spoken once? It seems the same people who are arguing for stringing up plagiarizers hold a pretty low view of the Gospel, if they believe it only has a specific rendering to one set of people at one time and one place.

What’s worse is the logic that traps them—again. If the message were that specific to only one group of people, then it takes on a prophetic utterance that calls the closed canon of Scripture into question. (At least by their own arguments against an open canon, it would.)

One of the arguments against one person using a sermon delivered by another plays up the pastoral component. Aren’t we paying our pastors to preach the word?

The trap here wonders at what point a sermon no longer becomes relevant because someone else preached it previously. Isn’t a sermon someone else preached still the the word if God is behind it?

What about giving credit to the originator of the message? Well, isn’t the originator God? If you take a look at the sermons delivered in Acts, they bear an uncanny resemblance to each other, laying out God’s redemptive plan in a similar way, yet no one ascribed any authorship to anyone else.

Traps, traps, traps no matter where one turns if one pursues the plagiarism punishment angle.

Perhaps the better case is to forget making the use of someone else’s sermon a crime in the Church, ascribed or not.

What if we did? What if all we’ve done by stigmatizing the corporate use of preaching the word is to merely lift up the reputation of some preachers over others? I don’t think we ever consider that reality. Do we rate a minister of the Gospel solely by his talent for preaching? If so, many solid Christian men would be disqualified from the ministry. If we believe that preaching the word is a true spiritual gift, then every pastor in this country has that gift. Does anyone reading this believe that? One hundred percent? All the time? If not, then shouldn’t those pastors who may not have that supernatural gift operating at all times have access to the messages of those men who do have it?

Personally, I find the selling of sermons more reprehensible than any supposed plagiarism, especially because I believe God inspires those messages we hear. If it’s only to recover the cost of distribution, I can see some justification for that. Even then, freely we have received, so freely we give.

I offer all this as food for thought. I’m not fully decided on this issue myself. What bothers me is our failure to frame our terms correctly and to get to their roots. Unless we do that, we fall into worthless arguments based on the laws of men and not on the truths of God.

I’ve read all the arguments upholding the idea of punishing plagiarism of sermons, yet if followed to their natural conclusions they always lead to the same trap: the exaltation of men over God. John Piper (who’s written on plagiarism himself) wrote a book with the title Brothers, We Are Not Professionals. But don’t we act like professionals when we get defensive on this topic of plagiarism? Doesn’t it seem like we’re protecting a celebrity status for pastors by arguing for the punishment of “plagiarizers”? We may insist that using a message preached elsewhere is deceitful, but perhaps the entire premise is flawed. As I’ve laid out here, the reasons we may consider it deceitful may have more to do with the self-glorying of men than God’s honor.

Paul said that the important thing was not whether Christ was preached for envious reasons, just that the message of Christ got out (Phil. 1:15-18). If we keep that in mind, isn’t everything else spurious?

{Image: Evangelist Billy Sunday, whose own ministry was rocked by accusations of plagiarism}

Strong Man, Weak Man

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I’ve been wanting to write this post for some time, but never found a perfect time to do so. In light of the Ted Haggard scandal, with so many advocating a greater honesty, more openness, and a greater reliance on personal confession (myself included), I wish to discuss one enormous barrier to that advice.

Two months from now will mark the 30th anniversary of my conversion to Christ. I’ve witnessed plenty of trends in the American Church during that time, but only in recent years has the Lord opened my eyes to one of the more intractable prejudices.

We Christian men have a serious disconnect concerning honesty, openness, and personal confession. We may claim that those things are good for the soul, but God help any man who truly practices those disciplines.

How so?

While I’m speaking solely from what my own eyes have seen, men who consistently share their personal failings will eventually get a cold shoulder from other men in the church. Men who talk about their mistakes, who are unafraid to communicate with others, get treated like wimps, pansies, wusses and any other unmasculine name you can think of.  Strong man, weak manOther men will start spending less time with them, choosing instead to huddle up with the group of guys who prefer to talk about last night’s football game—the same group of guys that never lets their inner demons be known.

At a time when Christian men are sucking up men’s books featuring tough-as-nails guys who hunt bear with a pointy stick, the man who weeps over his own sin gets relegated to the quilting bee. How we ever ended up with that sort of thinking is beyond me, but I’ve seen it. Better to be the strong silent type and laugh at a ribald joke on occasion than to communicate one’s failure.

I’d like to think this misperception’s only been around since churches started mimicking the “win-at-all-cost” propaganda of the business world, but I’m not so certain. Perhaps we’ve always cast a negative glance at the man who talks just a bit too much about his failings. Nothing kills more men in their hearts than to have someone think them soft. And nothing is softer than to talk about one’s own sin.

Is it any wonder then that so many men flameout in spectacular ways? And it’s usually the man’s man, not the confessional guy, who winds up incinerated. Why the enormous pressure? Are we that performance driven in the man’s world that we can’t handle a little personal confession?

We’ve got to stop the denigration. We can talk all we want about communicating our own failings and sins, but if we’re still equating that kind of openness with being a wimp, we’ll never get anywhere. I don’t care if it’s fear, pride, or self-loathing that’s driving that shunning, we’ve got to convince Christian men that living a life of honest confession won’t wither their cojones.

Being the Body: How to Forge Real Community, Part 1

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Unbroken circleIn the first entry in this series, we looked at the Biblical foundation for asserting that the Lord is powerfully for community. His model for how we’re supposed to live and minister are based in community, not the rugged individualism we find so prevalent in the American mindset.

Regular readers will know that posts on community turn up frequently at Cerulean Sanctum. (Search on the Community category in the sidebar.) As I mentioned yesterday, I believe that many of the problems facing the American Church today are based in flawed or non-existent community. Clean up how we do community, and many  of these problems will fade away, leaving us to better serve the Lord and each other.

Many people talk about community, but achieving vital community within our churches is another issue altogether. I think the Lord is sick of talk; He wants to see us start living what we’re talking about.

So how do we start developing community?

Today, we’ll look at basic ways to turn talk about community into the kind of fellowship that dwells in one accord.

#1 – Every hour of every day, say, “It’s not about me.”

    Christianity, at its core, is others-centered. Love the Lord. Lord your neighbor. The heart of the Christian is inclined to Christ, and as Christ gave Himself away, we should give ourselves away. Freely we have received, freely we give.

Aren’t we always quickened by missionary stories that tell of extraordinary sacrifice? David Brainerd gave to the lost Indians he encountered till his tuberculosis-racked body gave out. Jim Elliot took a spear to the back so a primitive tribe others forgot might escape eternal torment. Hudson Taylor buried most of his family in China, yet because of his selflessness, the Chinese Church not only thrives today, but shames us with their faithfulness amid persecution.

The great Christians are so because they gave themselves away, sometimes even to martyrdom.

It’s about Christ. It’s about others. However unpopular that may be with us “King of the Hill” Christians in America, the truth remains. Community starts with understanding that you and I are tiny (albeit essential) bits of the Body of Christ. If we’ve truly died to the world, then being a tiny bit consecrated to a greater purpose is pure joy.

If we’re still holding onto our selves, then “it’s not about me” will grate on us. We’ll find any avenue we can to pave over that truth. And when it’s finally buried, we’ll paint a happy face over the top and go on serving ourselves.

But don’t call that Christian discipleship.

#2 – When a person shares a need with us, we should instinctively ask, “How can I help meet your need?”

    Nothing angers me more than the hands-off approach some Christians take with the needy. Those quasi-disciples have this bizarre notion that aiding the hurting, shattered, and destitute will somehow stymie whatever God is trying to do in that person’s life. It’s as if we believe that God is going out of His way to punish the hurting, shattered, and destitute, and any comfort or assistance we give that poor person will throw a monkey wrench into God’s rack of discipline.

Nonsense. I’ve read the Bible from cover to cover enough times to know that such thinking is nothing more than an excuse to do nothing.

On the other hand, the Bible is loaded with hundreds of verses commanding us to look after the less fortunate. For those who hold to the less is more concept of helping others, here’s a favorite of mine:

Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered.
—Proverbs 21:13 ESV

Ye-ouch.

No, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are to imitate our Master. He did not rebuke the needy, but met their need. Notice His response in this passage:

As he drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” And he cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” He said, “Lord, let me recover my sight.” And Jesus said to him, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.
—Luke 18:35-43 ESV

Jesus did not attempt to blame the man for anything. He did not try to explain to the man that God was disciplining him through his blindness. No, Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?”

A servant asks that question. Because our Lord came as a servant, we are to ask the same question if we are to be like Him.

Don’t unload a needy person’s request on someone else, even if that someone else is God. If you wish to bring others into the situation to help, by all means do so, especially God. But take responsibility by asking, “How can I help meet your need?” Then meet the need with every resource God has given you.

Some of you may wonder how this makes for vital community. The answer is simple: If we’re collectively meeting the needs of others, when it comes our time to be needy (and our time WILL come), our needs will be met. I don’t have to spend all my time watching my own back because the brethren are doing it for me, just as I am for them.

But it has to start with us. We may even run a deficit on returns, yet we do it nonetheless. Maybe if enough of us do it within our churches, being true servants will catch on. And so will true community.

#3 –  The Holy Spirit created Christian community ex-nihilo, so we better be Spirit-filled.

    No sooner had the Holy Spirit fallen at Pentecost than we see this at the close of Acts 2:

 

And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved.
—Acts 2:44-47 ESV

The echoes of Peter’s Pentecost sermon still reverberated among the palisades of Jerusalem, yet already the Lord was forging a vital community. A Spirit-filled church will naturally pursue community. One of the hallmarks of being filled with the Lord is a godly inclination toward others. It’s inescapable.

If there’s no real community at your church, then the Holy Spirit’s not there. Pure and simple. If your church is a tenuous affiliation of individuals, then I don’t care how powerful you may think the preaching, teaching, and worship are, your church is stone cold dead. We’ve got to stop lying to ourselves. The proof of the Holy Spirit’s absence is right there in the lack of community within our churches.

If that’s your church, you don’t have to go down without a fight. Greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world.

Find at least a couple other people dying for community, then pick a night when you can go to your church and throw yourselves face down before God, praying until the Spirit shows up. Fast and pray till heaven opens. Do it long enough and others might notice. Maybe they’ll join, too.

Are we serious enough about community to take whatever steps we must to have the kind of community we prattle on about? I know I’m deadly serious about this issue because I think it means life or death for the American Church. Yes, the devil can no sooner wipe out the worldwide church than you or I can blow out the sun, but that doesn’t guarantee the American Church won’t be reduced to a handful of embers. God’s going to send His Spirit where people are serious about the cost of discipleship.  And part of that cost is putting down our self-centered lives to pursue a life of real community.

#4 – Judgment may begin with the house of God, but so does charity.

    Take another look at the Acts 2 passage above. What needy people were the first recipients of the Church’s charity? People in the Church!

We can’t serve people outside our churches if we can’t serve people inside them. And too often, that’s exactly the case. We think that once a person becomes a Christian, they don’t need help from the brethren. We wrongly toss needy fellow believers back into God’s hands and go out to help those outside.

What witness to the world is that, though? Why would anyone want to be a part of a community that’s willing to help people UNTIL they become part of the community? Look at enough cults and you’ll be surprised how many act just that way.

Sadly, I’ve known Christian churches that do that. Time and again they fail because they forgot that charity begins at home. We minister to the believers first, then to those outside the community.

Does this run the risk of being too inwardly focused? Sure. But if a community of folks dead to the world makes up your church, they’ll need less and less inner support as time goes on. Soon, most of the community will require only a minimum of support at the most critical times, and more time can be spent ministering to the needs of those outside the community of faith.

Some would go so far as to say that there is no distinction between inside and outside. David Fitch’s The Great Giveaway cranks the amp to eleven by stating that all charity should be within the church community: Definitely offer help to the needy outside our churches, but with the stipulation that they become part of the church first. That’s some serious tough love, but I can see the wisdom in it. Think of the wide-eyes among nonbelievers when encountering the early Christians looking after each other the way they did. I’m sure many of those pagans were dying to have some of what the Christians had.

How many lost people today are dying to have what we have? Are they beating down the doors of our churches to get in?

If we start thinking along the lines of the four points raised in this post, we’ll make progress toward true community in our churches. In the days ahead, we’ll discuss other ways that we can work toward the kind of Christian community that will change the world for Christ.

Posts in this series: