Returning

June 9, 2020

“I forgot.” So said John Newton, over and over again. The author of “Amazing Grace” started life under the tutelage of a godly mother who died while he was but a boy. He fell into bad company, took to sea, became a slave trader. God kept prodding him, but soon after making a resolution to change, “I forgot.” Until that day God finally captured his heart for good. As an old man walking the streets of Bristol, he never tired of telling people that though he was a great sinner, Christ was a great Savior. 

I used to wonder about the ancient Israelites. How was it that time after time, they kept forsaking the One True God and turned to idolatry? Used to be, it didn’t make sense to me, but these days, I understand. Returning to old habits is part of human nature, and one of the reasons genuine change is so hard. We have good intentions, but bad habits. 

A couple weeks ago, I initiated an online conversation with a more liberal pastor friend

about social justice in light of the death of George Floyd and the resulting protests and riots. We were able to converse civilly, but others jumped in, and the conversation fell apart.

I’m a slow learner. More than seven years ago, I eschewed political comment on social media, and encouraged others to do the same, but find myself sucked back into that arena. It is a cesspool, deadly to my soul. Most people are more interested in scoring points than learning anything. Those who adhere to the party line shame those who think differently, and those who refuse to parrot the majority narrative accuse others of being sheep. There are many versions of this, but it’s playing out tonight over racism and COVID-19. I’ve slipped into reading what everyone is saying, but it’s only serving to agitate my spirit.

The ancient Hebrews repeatedly slipped back into pagan polytheism and the moral decay that accompanied it. I have been slipping back into that pagan world of politics. It blares at us in all the media, in our conversations, in the masks people are wearing, in the smoldering debris of our cities. I must choose where I will allow my thoughts to go. Others may legitimately choose differently than I, but I know what I need to be doing. Psalm 139:1 confirms the correctness of my original resolve of seven years ago:

“I will guard my ways lest I sin with my tongue. I will restrain my mouth with a muzzle while the wicked are before me.” I am returning to the roots that have nourished me for the past seven years. It doesn’t mean I have no opinions or that I don’t care. It’s just that all this political talk is robbing me of my joy, and not convincing anyone of anything, while inviting conflict I don’t need. Already, I feel the weight lifting, and am thankful for the promise that “God will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee.” (Isaiah 26:3)