Ethical consumption doesn’t entail these sorts of symbolic actions, and while it might be right to support the restaurant there’s also something to not letting the right hand know about the left when we’re doing what we ought.
It be folly to think that companies have ever escaped having values. Yet those values seem to have been, well, tied to their products. Industry. Thrift. Quality construction. Chick-Fil-A’s decision to close on Sunday’s is a decent example of this.
The positive content of our “identity in Christ” rarely gets filled in. Instead, we are left with a void, an empty hole that can neither guide nor instruct us in how we should live in the world.
Jonathan Merritt seeks a non-partisan faith, but leaving behind the left-right culture clashes is harder than it seems.
The only way through the culture wars is not to shout about our need to go beyond them, but to set about ignoring them altogether and get on with the work that is given to each generation: providing the positive vision for society that has been informed by our Christian commitments.
Should evangelicals encourage and advocate for the use of contraception, or even present information in our churches that signal (tacitly or otherwise) approval and exhoration?
Advocating for contraception for unmarried Christians would represent a new low for the evangelical churches understanding of human sexuality.
Reducing abortion is a noble and urgent goal. This is the wrong way to do it.
To advocate culture over politics, without revisiting the grounds of both, will simply perpetuate the sort of cultural nihilism that currently plagues us.
Evangelicals sit in a somewhat paradoxical relationship with these cultural narratives about homosexuality and weight. Ministries are tasked not only with fulfilling their institutional vocation of helping those with same-sex desires live faithfully but also with defending their legitimacy and distancing themselves from their problematic methods of the past (think shock therapy).
The eruption of controversy around the Komen Foundation’s decision to not renew its funding of Planned Parenthood and their stunning reversal (or was it?) has reinforced two truths: the culture war is a long way from over, and it is hardly a one-sided affair.
Regardless of our status, the form of our lives is to point beyond ourselves, to remind each other of the reality of the revelation which we have heard, to be a people among whom the Word of God is living and active. Otherwise, the married and the single risk saying to each other, “Go your way, for I have no need of you.”
*Real Marriage* buries the mystery along with Ephesians 5. There’s nothing left of it, both in the book’s candid descriptions of sexuality and in its transparent confessions about the Driscoll’s struggles. And the prose inevitably follows: it is clear, but rarely sings and only infrequently stirs.
Yes, the church needs to talk more about sex. But pastors may need to talk about it less.
At the heart of *Real Marriage* is a commendation of “friendship.” But this is, in its own way, dissatisfying.
Even ethical consumption stands in danger of being co-opted by the logic of brand identity and consumerism, and having its power muted as a result. Yet that does not excuse us as Christians from deliberating carefully about how to faithfully consume in a consumerist world.