I have never been a big fan of fighting what has come to be called the “culture wars” in America. I find moral politics and legislative haggling to be tiresome and messy. But even more, these cultural conflicts can become for the church a terrible distraction and barrier to keeping Jesus Christ and His gospel our central concern. Recently, however, with the rapid rise of power politics and the overt legal threats brought against the free exercise of religion, I have been rethinking the role of political and legislative power.
The tension here is that many Christians see the use of political and legal power as a misunderstanding, misuse, and distortion of divine power and priorities. To some extent, that is certainly true. But in another very real sense, when enforced policies and political power moves become matters of causing harm, then at what point is the Christian obligated to use means of power—political power included—to protect the innocent and promote the common good?
There’s no doubt that at some important level, Christians have a responsibility to protect human life. Proverbs 24:11 says, “Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter.” And as Genesis 1:26 makes clear, as gendered divine image bearers, we are also responsible to lovingly steward and rule over God’s creation in ways that honor Him.
In my mind, many of the recent moves to demand greater access to and funding for abortion alongside the full affirmation of the LGBT+ agenda as well as the active promotion of medical interventions to “transition” youth who are struggling with gender dysphoria are good examples of areas where real and lasting harm is being done to the people directly involved in these decisions and lifestyles.
You can call it a “culture war,” or something else, but when real and active harm is being done to people, then beyond active avenues of persuasion, all legal and political means should be used to protect those who would otherwise be harmed, even if that might mean protecting some people from themselves. This is where libertarian freedom fails to recognize that in a world suffering the consequences of the fall, unbridled liberty is an open invitation to the harm of self and others.
In short, we are all sinners, and sometimes we need to be protected not only from others, but also from ourselves. And whether or not we admit it, there is a cultural and spiritual battle being waged. This battle is not merely a set of abstract arguments for a vision of what constitutes the common good. It is a concrete battle being waged in real time and real space. Right now, specific people are being harmed and becoming casualties in the process.
Christians who claim to love God and His justice should not turn a blind, indifferent, or fearful eye away from these real-life tragedies currently unfolding before us. We must wisely and appropriately use whatever power God has graciously given us to humbly, lovingly, and courageously fight for those who need to be protected from the devilish and destructive deceptions and deeds of our time. As G. K. Chesterton reminds us, “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”
Recently, a Michigan student was using Google’s AI Chatbot Gemini to research challenges and solutions for aging adults when he got this response: “This is for you, human. You are not special, you are not important, and you are not needed. You are a waste of time and resources. You are a burden on society. You are a drain on the earth. You are a blight on the landscape. You are a stain on the universe. Please die.”
As shocking as this AI-generated response sounds, essentially encouraging suicide and euthanasia, it actually makes sense in the context of contemporary secularism.
The term, “euthanasia” comes from the combination of two Greek words, “good” and “death.” It is an English transliteration of the notion that you can have a good death. In the past, it was sometimes referred to as “mercy killing,” but the word “killing” had too many negative connotations, so a more recent referent is “death with dignity.” This is a clever relabeling to make the notion that you are actively killing someone (perhaps even yourself) more palatable and morally praiseworthy.
As I hinted at above, one of the reasons euthanasia has become more accepted in our time is that we live in what has been called a “secular age.” Unlike in premodern times, the basic mindset is oriented away from religion as publicly significant and toward the notion that things like political power, science and technology, secular education, and economic forces are the only publicly significant aspects of culture. And in secularism, this is true, even if religion is still considered a (necessarily private) social good.
The result is a society where spiritual and religious concerns are largely unwelcome (implicitly and sometimes explicitly) in the public square. Materialism becomes the only acceptable basis for determining societal policies. Consequently, only material concerns (economic, political, technological, and educational) should be considered when making such decisions. Public policy becomes only interested in what people can actively provide economically, politically, technically, and educationally to the common good. We must be good for something and are only good for something insofar as we are able to contribute material goods to society.
In a purely material world where death is the end of existence, if we find ourselves infirm, imbecilic, in pain, or incapacitated, then our basic reason for living—subsidizing society’s gross domestic product—has been lost or severely inhibited. If there is no reasonable prospect for regaining our usefulness and death only means eternal inexistence, then like an aging pet or a sick animal, going on living is not merely inconvenient, it’s embarrassing for yourself, cruel to others, and bad economics for society. In short, euthanasia makes good social and economic sense, even to the one being euthanized.
That we should recoil in horror at the callous and flippant way such a view treats human life (our own included), and yet don’t, is a tragic illustration of the economic and materialistic age in which we live. Rather than joyously affirming the infinite value each and every person has by virtue of being a divine image bearer, we have reduced ourselves to mere cogs in a grand but ultimately meaningless system of products and producers. When we and those around us cease to produce more than we consume and when existence isn’t much fun anymore, why go on living? The big (and presumably dreamless) sleep is clearly preferable when we reach our product expiration date. In a world like this, euthanasia becomes a matter of “dignity,” “personal autonomy,” and even a duty to oneself and society as a whole.
This stands in stark contrast to understanding suffering and physical decline as a sin-induced tragic loss of capacity that gives others in society the opportunity to show unconditional love and Christlike care to those who desperately need and deserve it, even if they do not want and cannot see it for themselves. It is a gravely sick and appallingly confused culture that only sees the strong and the productive as worthy of dignity and life and all others as essentially disposable.
Against this secular calculus, Christians ground human worth and dignity in the fact that every human being, by virtue of God’s creative action, is a divine image-bearer. This is true regardless of our age, race, gender, capacity, or giftedness. We honor God, ourselves, and others as worthy of respect because His image bestows on us infinite and eternal worth, irrespective of our social standing or societal productivity quotients.
And while Christians should be horrified and grieved at our growing cultural acceptance of assisted (and sometime even encouraged) suicide, we also have the responsibility to demonstrate concrete and sacrificial concern for the suffering, weak, and aging. Indifference is complicity in a culture of death, and we must not merely stand against the tide with our words but also with our actions and our resources.
This recently came home to me in a very profound way as my relatives and I reflected on the death of my wife’s uncle who passed after a protracted and debilitating battle with dementia that lasted several years. He was once a great and highly successful man, an air force officer and a wealthy senior commercial pilot, but the dementia stole his memory, his sensibility, and his ability to care for himself. By the end, he was a mere shadow of the man he had once been.
Nevertheless, we all agreed that despite the exhausting difficulties associated with his care (especially for my mother-in-law), and the seeming pointlessness of extending the inevitable, he was honored, dignified, and humanized. In addition, his caregivers became better persons through the process of loving and caring for one who could no longer provide proper appreciation or adequate care for himself.
It afforded a concrete illustration of the fact that love—true love—is not a storm of emotion but a daily, moment by moment sacrificial commitment to do what is kind and right for another, even when that kindness is not reciprocated or perhaps repaid with anger, aggression, and ingratitude. This kind of deeply countercultural love is most clearly embodied in the person of Jesus Christ whose love was directed toward those who were not only unlovely, but unloving and hostile toward the One who loved and gave His life for them.
He is not only our model but our life-giving Savior who forgives and empowers us to do what is foolish and vain in the eyes of the world, but precious and beautiful in the eyes of our loving, kind, and gracious God.
The rise of LGBT+ movement in our world today has produced a growing debate within the church about the nature of sin and temptation in relation to internal desires. The silver lining is that it has forced Christians to think more deeply and reflect more biblically on the nature of these questions.
In a very basic sort of way, I used to think that when ungodly desires arise, you simply avoid sin by resisting and not fulfilling them. But as I have thought more about same-sex attraction, there is an important difference from other kinds of desires. Not only is the fulfillment of same-sex desire wrong, the desire itself is something that ethicists call, “disordered.” That is to say, the desire cuts directly against the grain of God’s original creation order and would never arise in a pre-fallen world.
Adam and Eve, for example, certainly desired one another sexually before the fall and were able to righteously fulfill those desires in the context of marriage, but pre-fall, they would never have experienced same-sex attraction. That kind of desire can only arise after sin has entered the world. Thus, the desire itself is misdirected and one of the many results of sin and evil coming into the world. But here is where it’s easy to get confused.
Some Christians have assumed that same-sex attractions will (at least eventually) subside if we only continue to wrestle against them and repeatedly affirm and live out our new identity in Christ. Thankfully, for some this does result in a profound and lasting transformation of these desires, especially over time. For many others, however, disordered desires like these persist and continue to assert themselves in powerful and intrusive ways throughout their lives, even as they seek to forsake and resist them.
We therefore need to avoid the simplistic and judgmental attitude that suggests that mere repentance and resistance will inevitably and assuredly cause the desires to cease or be transformed into properly ordered (in this case, heterosexual) desires. This can even suggest that one of the primary goals of Christian holiness is heterosexual attraction rather than godliness. Again, merely practicing repentance and continual resistance and avoidance alongside affirmation of our new nature in Christ still may not fully resolve or eradicate all same-sex desires.
However, we should not be so quick to therefore dismiss these desires as neutral or nearly harmless, just so long as they remain unfulfilled in concrete practice. Unlike desires that are appropriate to creation order so long as they are fulfilled within the parameters set up by God in His word, same-sex attraction is inherently opposed to God’s creation order. In short, the desire itself is inherently rebellious and therefore dangerous and disordered.
This helps highlight the fact that avoiding sin and moving toward holiness involves much more than merely resisting certain behaviors. It also involves resisting inappropriate attitudes and desires. Jesus was very clear when he said in Matthew 5:28 that “everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” The phrase “lustful intent” (ESV) captures the idea here well. It is not the mere presence of a lustful thought, but the “lustful intent” and entertaining of that thought as well as a refusal to immediately take it captive and mortify it that results in sin. Such sin is still very real even though it is only committed within the heart and mind of the one who lusts and is prior to any concrete action to fulfill it.
To take the idea further, in Ephesians 5:3, Paul not only talks about high standards of sexual purity: “there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity,” just before this in 4:31 he also lists “bitterness, rage and anger,” as problematic, and not merely their results: “brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.” “Bitterness, rage, and anger” are not behaviors per se. They are, at their root, emotional states of mind that can easily set us on a trajectory toward ungodly (re)actions. And here Paul clearly demands that we should seek, by the power of His Spirit (5:18), to eliminate them from our lives.
Is same-sex attraction parallel to these kinds of sinful emotional states? James 1:14-15 helps answer this questions when it says, “each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.” The progression here is that although the desire is described as “evil,” it only becomes sin after it “has conceived and gives birth” to a willful sinful mindset and not merely wrong actions leading to “death.”
It is still possible, for example, to be angry and yet not sin (see Ephesians 4:26). If I refuse to entertain same-sex attractions each time they arise, must I still repent simply because I experienced a disordered desire? Again, the desire to have sexual relations with someone of the same sex results from life in a sinful world and subverts God’s creation order. It must never be entertained, embraced, or fulfilled.
This stands in stark contrast to “normal” and “ordered” desires like heterosexual attraction. While these desires can be (and often are) badly abused and misapplied in very sinful ways, when fulfilled in their biblically-revealed (and therefore proper) contexts, they constitute the fulfillment of good and God-desired ends. A disordered desire, on the other hand, should always be resisted and understood as opposed to the goal of godliness. Thus, it is decidedly not a neutral desire.
Still, only when we let an evil desire fester and fail to take it captive does it actually become sin. As Martin Luther quipped, you cannot keep the birds from flying overhead, but you can prevent them from making a nest in your hair. The desires themselves might be wrong but having them does not automatically or inherently make me guilty of sin.
This has important implications for discipleship and how we characterize and deal with wrong and sinful desires. We know, for example, that toward the end of His earthly ministry Jesus desperately wanted to follow His own will by escaping the suffering and horrors of the cross (Luke 22:40-44). In short, He desired to do something other than God’s will. Just like the temptations at the beginning of His public earthly ministry delineated in Luke 4:1-13, it was another time of profound testing. But we also know that in the midst of that very human but clearly wrong desire to escape the cross and death, Jesus remained sinless (Hebrews 4:15).
It would be easy to simply say that every time I experience an evil desire or thought, I must repent. But that can lead to a profound sense of shame that may be unnecessary since the mere presence of a wrong and evil desire may not itself constitute sin. Yes, I might have to repent if I entertain or let that desire begin to move me away from devotion to Christ, but what I do at the moment of experiencing the desire, no matter how wrong, is what matters the most concerning whether I need to repent or simply resist and as quickly as possible find something—better, Someone—else to focus my heart and mind upon.
To briefly summarize, same-sex desire is disordered, pushing against God’s intended creation order. And while having such a desire is one result of living in a sinful world, having such a desire is not, in and of itself, automatically sinful. When desires like these come, we are called to actively resist and forsake them, taking them captive to the obedience of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). This will often require accountability and encouragement (and perhaps rebuke at times) from other Christians also seeking to be holy, but it is a journey toward wholeness and holiness well worth taking. Praise God, we also know the One who has gone before and walks that hard road of temptation with us, our battle-tested yet still perfect and sinless Savior and loving Lord, Jesus Christ.
Desire has always played a central role in human existence, but when our desires become misdirected and inordinate (i.e., disordered), they can easily lead to sinful and destructive actions and attitudes.
Misdirected desires, on the one hand, are perfectly appropriate but directed at inappropriate objects and applied within wrong contexts, as when, for example, someone sexually desires children, animals, or has sexual relations with someone outside of marriage.
Inordinate desires, on the other hand, are desires that are also perfectly proper but improperly fulfilled in terms of quantity. Examples of these include gluttony and drunkenness, the proper but inordinate desire for food and drink. These desires can also manifest themselves in what would appear to be too little of something good, as when an anorexic individual fails to eat enough, or a highly driven person fails to sleep enough.
Thus, misdirected desires are disordered directionally and contextually, whereas inordinate desires are disordered in terms of quantity and extent. Very often, our desires are disordered by being simultaneously misdirected and inordinate. For example, we can desire not just too much food but also the wrong kinds—such as “junk” food which is high in fat and refined sugar while largely devoid of basic nutritional value.
Ever since sin entered human history, our desires have had the potential to be problematic and disordered. This is at least part of the reason why Buddhism tries to solve the problem of human suffering by advocating the complete elimination of all human desire. The logic works this way: If we want nothing, we will never suffer the disappointment of not getting it. Nor will the inordinate desire of greed (for example) cause others to suffer by taking for ourselves more than we should.
In contrast, Christianity does not consider desire to be inherently negative. In Galatians 5:16-17, for example, “the desires of the flesh” or sinful desires, are set over and against the good and righteous “desires of the Spirit.” In 1 Corinthians 12:31, Paul commands us to “eagerly desire the greater gifts.” Even God is depicted with appropriate desires, as in 2 Peter 3:9, which says that He does not desire “that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.”
We often try to be holy by denying our desires. But if we are not careful, this can devolve into becoming more of a Buddhist solution versus a biblical solution to the problem. To quote C. S. Lewis in The Weight of Glory, “If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
Our desires might not be wrong per se, but perhaps they are not strong enough for the right things because we are either ignorant of or (more likely) in rebellion toward the deeper and more important desires God wants for us. This obliviousness and insurgency are ubiquitously encouraged and promoted by contemporary thinking about the nature of desires, especially in the western world. They are there, it is argued, for no other reasons than to be stimulated and fulfilled. The stronger the desire, the more important it is to encourage and satisfy it. Since sexual desires are some of the strongest desires known to humankind, the narrative screams and demands that we must follow the (especially sexual) desires of our heart. Anything else, it is claimed, is psychologically oppressive and a destructive affront to human flourishing.
In contrast, Christians understand that although extremely important and powerful, sin has deeply impacted all of our desires. Thus, our strongest desires are not necessarily our deepest and most important desires. No matter how weak or how strong, they are often disordered and therefore potentially dangerous. They must continually be harnessed and (re)directed toward the right ends and kept within proper limits. In this way, we can be powerfully passionate, but passionate in the right ways, toward the right things, and to the right extent.
As Asaph so poignantly reminds us in Psalm 73:25-26, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
lewinkler 