Divorce?

I was recently placed in the rather uncomfortable position of having to defend some of the policies of the Roman Catholic Church.  I’m afraid I didn’t do a very good job of it.  I am not, and never have been, a member of the Roman Catholic Church, but I have some understanding of their doctrine; sometimes I think I understand the doctrine better than most Romans I know.  There are many things in their doctrine that I don’t agree with; don’t misunderstand me, I know that there are many good people in the Roman Catholic Church, but I have doctrinal issues with that denomination.

One of my co-workers was griping that a Roman Catholic priest advised her to get a divorce.  Don’t misunderstand, she wanted the divorce; she just felt that the advice was contrary to the doctrine that this priest was supposed to be upholding.  I asked her if she was Catholic; she is.  I asked if her husband was Catholic; he was not.  Well, now I understand the priest’s position.  I don’t necessarily agree with it, but I understand.  I tried to explain that little “loophole,” and, in retrospect, I realize that I shouldn’t have used the term loophole.  I should have just asked her if she would have taken offense if the priest had advised her to “stop living in sin.”  I feel reasonably certain that her response would have been something to the effect that she wasn’t living in sin, and I would have agreed with her on that point.  I was able to successfully point out to her that “The Church” did not recognize her marriage, since her husband did not share her faith. 

I can understand religions teaching that inter-faith relationships are wrong, or at the very least, a very bad idea.  If nothing else, think of the children; the offspring from a Catholic-Baptist coupling are going to have a hard time finding acceptance in either church (the fact that the children should not be blamed for their parents’ decision notwithstanding); children from a Jewish-Hindu marriage even more so.  It can also lead to a great deal of confusion and emotional turmoil in the children’s upbringing; what is a child to do when daddy’s church teaches that mommy’s church is wrong, and mommy’s church teaches that anyone who attends daddy’s church is a vile sinner (and don’t try to tell me that it doesn’t happen)?

So, the upshot of all of this is, that, since the Catholic Church did not recognize her marriage, as far as that priest was concerned, her marriage was, in effect, “living in sin.”  So her “divorce” was nothing of the kind; it was an act of penance.  In the eyes of our government, she was married, and she got divorced.  In the eyes of her church, she was living in sin, but she repented, and went through the necessary formalities so that the state would no longer recognize the marriage that “The Church” never acknowledged.

Now, to my mind, the proper religious viewpoint should have been to attempt to proselytize the unbelieving husband, which may have been impossible, but, failing that, to continue the relationship, unless the husband decided that he wanted to end it, or he became abusive or unfaithful to her.  In 1 Corinthians 7, Apostle Paul talks at some length about the faithful wife (or husband) sanctifying the unbelieving spouse, and also that if the unbelieving spouse chooses to end the relationship, the believer is not bound to that person.  I understand that there are sometimes circumstances that require a separation.  I don’t think Paul was advocating that a wife stay in a relationship where her physical well-being was being threatened, whether by violence or by sexually-transmitted diseases that her husband could potentially be bringing home, but, for the most part, if you find yourself in a marriage with someone who doesn’t share your faith, you should expend every effort to try to make that marriage work.

Excuses

            There are a lot of adages about excuses; my favorite would have to be:  “Excuses are like armpits.  Most people have them, and they generally stink.”  Scripturally, excuses seem to go back almost as long as sin does.  When God confronted Adam about eating the forbidden fruit, Adam’s response was, “The woman that you gave me …” and Eve said, “The serpent …”  A guy that I used to work for would chant, whenever he sensed an excuse coming, “My wife she; my dog he; my car it…” because most of the excuses he heard started with one of those three phrases.  Adam’s excuse isn’t much different; for that matter, neither is Eve’s.  This may also be the original example of ‘Chutzpah,’ Adam trying to tell God that his sin was because of the woman that God had given him (isn’t Adam basically saying that the sin was God’s fault?).

            When Abraham got caught telling a lie (well, okay, it was a half-truth, but let’s face it, a half truth is still a lie), his response was, “Because I thought …”  Notice he did not say, “Because God directed me to…” or, “I was commanded to…”  He just decided in and of himself that this was the proper course of action, and went with it.  As if that were not enough, years earlier he had gotten caught telling the same lie!  If it didn’t fly the first time, what made him think it would work the second time?

            When God told Moses to go lead Israel out of Egypt, Moses was full of excuses.  He couldn’t speak well; he didn’t know how to tell the Israelites who had sent him…  For somebody who was supposed to be meek, he sure did talk back to God a lot.  Of course, I understand that he felt more comfortable talking to God than he did to Pharaoh.  He understood his relationship with God, but he wasn’t sure that Pharaoh wouldn’t kill him on sight, and a meek man like Moses really didn’t want to go to Pharaoh with something that he had a pretty good idea would be received as bad news.

            When Saul was made king over all Israel, he made a lot of mistakes, and he made a lot of excuses.  At one point he even tried to blame “the people.” As king, ultimately, he was responsible for the people anyway; if they weren’t following his orders, he should be making sure that they were dealt with accordingly.  The king doesn’t just have power and authority over the people; he also has responsibility for the people.

            When David became king, he showed himself to be one of the rare individuals who didn’t make excuses.  When David made mistakes, he owned up to them, he took responsibility.  When Nathan confronted David about Bathsheba, the widow of Uriah the Hittite, David immediately confessed.  I’m sure that there were many excuses he could have come up with, and maybe several that he had used to justify himself in his own mind, but once that he knew without a doubt that he was caught, he let those excuses go.  Later on, David numbered Israel, against Joab’s counsel; then, he confessed his sin.  To be honest, it may very well be that, this time, he simply had no excuse:  Joab had already asked why the king would even care how many men were in Israel; God could defend Israel with only a few, provided that those few (and their king) were faithful.

God didn’t expect David to be perfect; He doesn’t expect any of us to be perfect.  He made us; He knows what we are capable of.  It occurs to me, though, that these men were four of the most prominent leaders of God’s chosen people in ancient times.  I don’t mean to denigrate the other three, but it’s pretty clear to me why David is the one said to be a man after God’s own heart.  To be honest, I would be kidding myself to even try to compare myself to any of those four men (well, maybe Saul), but I think that, if I could be like one of them, I would most like to be like David.

A Church or a Business?

            My apologies for the length of time since my last post, and, in fair warning, it may be some time before my next one.

            I was asked today if I am active in my church.  Of course I am; did you even need to ask?  The person who asked me responded that they were no longer active in their church.  That concerned me; I asked them why that was.  They told me they had gotten frustrated with church leaders running the organization more like a business than as a church.

            This is an easy trap for church leaders to fall into, particularly in economic times such as these.  I have managed (so far) to avoid working in the accounting office of my church, but I understand a few things about finance.  I know that in times of economic downturn, charitable donations tend to be one of the first casualties.  It shouldn’t be; most of us know that when we are suffering financially, the institutions that we normally support are suffering as well, but it’s easy to think that somebody else will pick up our slack.  So, when church leaders are trying to make financial decisions, and bills are coming in, but offerings are not, at least, not the way they used to, the question is inevitable, “What can we do to make ends meet?” 

            The obvious answer is to make the congregation aware of the needs of the church, and ask that they would collectively dig deep into their pockets to support the ministry.  Unfortunately, whenever church leaders do that, people become suspicious.  It’s not difficult to start thinking that this person or that person is pilfering from the offerings of the church.  Having said that, let me caution you that may be exactly what is happening.  There have certainly been a number of instances in the past where various churches have suffered embezzlement at the hands of the very people that were supposed to be the trustees of God’s money.  On the other hand, as I said earlier, everyone’s expenses have gone up of late, even, dare I say, God’s.  When the price of gas goes up, it costs more to run the church bus, and it costs more for the pastor to do visitation.  When the price of food goes up, feeding the hungry or running a soup kitchen becomes more expensive.  Should we then abandon the work of God, because it just plain costs so much?

            Another route that some church leaders follow is to start alternate fundraising efforts.  Those sometimes work, and sometimes don’t.  I have heard of churches starting day-care facilities with the idea that they could get volunteers to do some or all of the work, and bring in some much-needed capital, and at the same time give a break to some of the working mothers in the church.  Maybe even bring in some children from families outside the church, and possibly give those families a little exposure to the gospel that they might not have had otherwise.  It sounds like win-win, except that you don’t always get as many volunteers as you thought you would, and the government has a funny way of finding little problems with your facilities that require expensive corrections, and any for-profit business, even if it is on church grounds, still has to pay taxes.  Sometimes such attempts to increase cash flow end up causing a bigger hole in the existing finances.

            The real answer is for everyone involved to pray, and to trust God.  The church leaders should understand that if they are doing the work of God, then He is not going to let their efforts come to naught.  The members of the congregation need to understand that when times are tough, they need to trust God and make supporting the church their first priority.  Let me rephrase that:  The Bible says, seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness…” so, supporting the church should always be your first financial priority, but, if anything, in tough times, you need to be even more careful to maintain that standard of giving. 

            In 1st Samuel, King Saul found himself in a situation where he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next; he and the army of Israel were out in the field, preparing to attack (or be attacked).  He was supposed to wait for Samuel the prophet to come, but he started worrying about what might happen if the Philistines attacked before they made a sacrifice to God, so he, “forced himself” to sacrifice an animal to appease God.  Samuel arrived, and asked what that was all about, and Saul explained his thinking.  Samuel told Saul that he should have simply waited on God.  The bottom line is, Saul was in trouble because he didn’t trust God.  Now, we know that God expects us to support his work.  If you aren’t sure that the church that you are attending is actually doing God’s work, then that is something that you should prayerfully consider before forking over any more money (maybe you should be praying for direction in choosing a new place of worship), but, if it is, then you are only hurting yourself by not doing your part.  Queen Esther once found herself in a situation where she wasn’t sure that she could trust God, but she was told that if she didn’t do her part, God was still going to do His part, she just wouldn’t be a recipient of God’s blessing.  You see, you may think that God doesn’t need your offering, and you’d be right, but He desires to use you and to bless you, but you have to do your part.

         Disclosure:  If you click on the link to the upper left and make a purchase, I do receive compensation.  For what it's worth, I think that is a very fine Bible, or I wouldn't be advertising it.  And, you know, times are tough.  Thanks for understanding.

Questions of Divinity

            The question came up recently, “If Jesus is God, then who was Jesus praying to in the Garden?”  I can answer that one of two ways, and I’m not sure myself which is the better answer.  Let me start by saying that Jesus was our perfect example, and so, as silly as it may seem for Jesus to be praying to Himself, if He hadn’t gone on record at least once as having prayed, there would be some people who would use that as an excuse not to pray.  This prayer also served as a reminder that God is not like a genie in a bottle; sometimes you don’t get what you want, and we should pray that His will be done, not ours.  Secondly, let me remind you that at the time that He was praying in the garden, Jesus was in the flesh.  Granted, in Him dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead bodily, but He was a flesh and blood being.  Scripture also teaches us that unto Thee (God) shall all flesh come.  His Spirit, being the Spirit of God, may not have needed to pray, but His flesh did.

Another question raised recently was, “Doesn’t the Holy Ghost coming down in the form of a dove, and the Father’s voice from Heaven at Jesus’ baptism prove that there are three separate Gods?”  God is God; He is infinite, almighty, all-knowing…  If He chooses to appear in two different forms, and speak from a third location all at the same time, that isn’t hard for Him to do.  Let me take a moment here for a side bar.  I had heard that before, and when I first started writing this, I looked for the appropriate passage, and came up with tow others that are somewhat ambiguous.  Matthew 3:16 says, “And Jesus, when He was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto Him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon Him.”  Now, that last “he,” is that referring to Jesus?  If you read that verse by itself, it certainly seems like it is, because Jesus is the only “he” in the verse.  If you read it in context, of course, John the Baptist was there, too.  Now, whatever position you believe Jesus held, it doesn’t really make sense for God to show Him a sign of His calling; Jesus knew who He was.  John the Baptist had already proclaimed Jesus the Lamb of God, but, being somewhat more human, may have needed a little more encouragement.  Mark 10:10 is similar, “And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon Him:”  Luke 3:22 says, “And the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon Him, and a voice from heaven, which said, Thou art My beloved Son; in Thee am I well pleased.”  Now, in John 1:32, it says, “And John bare record, saying, I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon Him.”  That makes it clear, at least, that John was the one who saw the dove.  It seems to me that if the entire crowd had seen the dove, and heard the voice, then it would have been very hard to keep talk of that event from spreading far and wide before Jesus even started His ministry.  If you’re going to ask questions about this event, perhaps the question you should be asking is, “How did John know it was the Holy Ghost, and not just a dove?”  The answer to that is that it was divinely revelated to Him.

            Another question that comes up occasionally is, “Why did John the Baptist doubt that Jesus was the Christ?”  It seems pretty silly, considering the powerful confirmation that John got at Jesus’ baptism, but John was only human.  Everyone has doubts.  Still, I can’t help but notice that the Bible doesn’t ever actually say that John had doubts; only that he sent two of his disciples to ask Jesus if He was the One.  Many people interpret that as an expression of John’s doubt, but I’m not convinced.  It’s easy for me to imagine John getting frustrated as he was trying to scale down his own operation, and direct people to his cousin, only to have his followers question the wisdom of such a shift.  “Look, you’ve followed me this long; I’m telling you that you’re supposed to follow Him now.  You don’t believe that He’s the One?  But I’ve told you that He is.  If you won’t believe me, then go ask Him yourselves!”  John probably did have his doubts, but I have a hard time believing that he would express those doubts to the people that were following him, and that he believed should be following Jesus.

 

The Council of Nicea (Part II)

I blogged last week about the Council of Nicaea, and I pointed out that one of the big discussions centered around the divinity of Christ, what I didn’t say was that the two sides were: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost were the three persons of the Godhead, or that God the Father and God the Holy Ghost were the two persons of the Godhead, and that Christ could not be considered co-eternal (and therefore not co-equal) with them.

It occurs to me to wonder why it is that, in discussing a religion that bills itself as monotheistic, the argument was not so much about the nature of our one God, but, it seems, more along the lines of, does our God have two persons or three? I am reminded that some years back, a good friend of mine asked the question, “Are you created in God’s image?” Upon receiving an affirmative response, he went on, “Are you three persons? Wouldn’t that make you schizophrenic?” It’s an amusing set of questions, but it does bring up an interesting point. Many of us are both fathers and sons and have spirits in us, but we don’t consider ourselves to be three people. Sigmund Freud developed the idea that we each have an id, an ego, and a super-ego. Do these three components of our psyche correspond to the three persons of the Trinity? I would venture to say no, for the following reasons: The id, as defined by Freud, was concerned with basic human needs, it is an urge-driven, primal, instinctual part of the brain. The super-ego is the result of outside influences, such as environment, upbringing, and social values. The ego bridges the gap between the gap between the id and the super-ego. Now, other than the fact that the sacrifice of Christ bridges the gap between what we should do and what we actually end up doing (provided that we live faithful lives), I see only one similarity between Freud’s three components of human psychology and the three persons of the Trinity: the number three.

I can’t help but wonder if Emperor Constantine presiding over the Council may not have had an effect on the discussion. He had been raised a polytheist, and might have had a difficult time accepting a single God. Then again, he was exploring new possibilities, and he may very well have been completely dissuaded from the religion(s) of his upbringing; we have no way of knowing. It’s possible that he was more ready to accept such a thing than any of the bishops present were willing to believe. It’s difficult to say how many of those present actually bought into the idea of God in three persons and how many just felt that, after so many years of state-sponsored persecution, they could finally catch a break, if only they could make their beliefs palatable to the emperor. Obviously, I don’t know one way or the other, but it does seem that the Trinity was a convenient compromise between monotheism and polytheism.

In any case, Christianity is a monotheistic religion. Scripture teaches us, time and time again, that God is One. In Isaiah 29:23, God is referred to as the Holy One of Jacob; Isaiah refers to God as the Holy One of Israel several times (Isaiah 1:4, Isaiah 10:20, Isaiah 12:6, Isaiah 17:7, Isaiah 30:15, Isaiah 43:3, Isaiah 48:17, Isaiah 54:5, Isaiah 55:5, and Isaiah 60:9); God is also referred to as the Holy One in 2 Kings 19:22, Job 6:10, Psalms 16:10, Psalms 71:22, Psalms 78:41, Psalms 89:18, Isaiah 10:17, Isaiah 40:25, Mark 1:24, Luke 4:34, Acts 3:14 (although that passage specifically refers to Jesus), and 1 John 2:20; God is referred to as One Lord in Deuteronomy 6:4, Zechariah 14:9, and Ephesians 4:5 (also, in Mark 12:29, Jesus quotes Deut. 6:4). There are many other passages that refer to God as being One, besides those I have mentioned here.

The Council of Nicea (Part I)

In A.D. 325, Emperor Caesar Flavius Constantine called a council of bishops to determine, once and for all, what exactly was the core belief of Christianity. Whether he had any business calling such a council could be questionable, but, he may have been the only interested party with the resources to do so. He offered to cover travel expenses for all the bishops that attended, along with a limited number of staff. He had some experiences with Christianity; in A. D. 312, he is said to have had a vision of a cross and the words, “In hoc signo vinces” (under this standard {or ‘in this sign’}, thou shall be victorious {or ‘thou shall conquer’}). Constantine had crosses painted onto the shields and breastplates of his troops, and they were, indeed, victorious. His mother, Helena, is said to have been a very devout and generous Christian. Some believe that she, during a pilgrimage, discovered the cross with the sign still on it saying, “King of the Jews.” There is, however, no indication that she herself ever made such a claim.

Anyway, Constantine invited over three thousand bishops of the church to attend this council. It’s hard to say how many of them showed up. One of the attendees, Athanasius, wrote a letter in which he asserts that there were 318. Some other estimates are less. The point is, only about ten percent of the known church bothered to attend. I can imagine that there were probably many that prayed about it, and felt that God was leading them not to go. I can imagine that there were many who simply thought about it, and, realizing that the Roman Empire was, traditionally, not a friend to the church, could not see any wisdom in going. In point of fact, Constantine had only outlawed persecution against Christianity two years earlier. Now, why does an Emperor, marching troops under the standard of the cross, allow the church to be persecuted? Hard to say, but one can certainly understand the trepidation of the church leaders, and their reluctance to put themselves in Constantine’s hands. Having said that, many of those bishops who attended the council had personally suffered persecution, but they came anyway.

One of the big points of discussion was the deity of Christ. One of the bishops, Arius, contended that, since Jesus was begotten of the Father, he had a definite beginning, and therefore could not be considered co-eternal with the Father, and, furthermore, should not be deified. Arius was very much in the minority. In the initial vote, four other bishops voted with Arius; after some discussion, only two continued with Arius. It should be noted that Arius had been anathematized (excommunicated) by a vote of approximately 100 Egyptian bishops about four years earlier. The Council eventually settled on verbiage that said that Jesus was homoousios, or consubstantial, with the Father, that is, that Jesus and the Father were of one substance, because Colossians 2:9 says that in Him (in Jesus) dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily.

If you stop and think about it, though, the confusion seems to come from the idea that before Mary became pregnant, Jesus didn’t exist. That’s easy to think that way, since we don’t really know at what point a person’s life begins. Some people say that a life doesn’t begin until the baby draws its first breath, others say life begins at conception, while others say that there are a number of lives waiting for conception so that they can obtain a physical body to go with their essence. The last group, understandably, preaches that contraception is therefore a sin, because one is preventing a living soul from obtaining a flesh-and-blood body. I don’t know that I would go that far, at least, not for most of us, but there are a number of Scriptural passages that indicate that Jesus existed long before Mary did.

John 1:1 says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:14 goes on to say, “And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.” In his first epistle, John writes to the church, “For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one. “ Let me first point out that John 1:14 refers to Jesus as the only begotten of the Father, but it also says that He was made flesh, which suggests that He was something else before. Of course, John 1:1 says that Jesus (or the Word) was in the beginning. So, in verse fourteen, John isn’t so much suggesting, as alluding to his earlier point. Now, in 1 John 5:7, he again refers to Jesus as the Word, rather than the Son, because at that time, Jesus had returned to His earlier state. He was no longer the flesh-and-blood Son, He was again the Word.

To be continued…

Pharisees and Publicans

It is interesting that when Jesus walked the earth, He is said to have come to save the world, and yet, in His dealings with the Pharisees, He was impatient at best, and seems to have already written them off as being beyond saving, even before He began His ministry. A lot of that, of course, comes from the fact that Jesus knew the hearts of the people He dealt with, publicans and Pharisees alike.

In Luke 18, Jesus tells a parable about a Pharisee and a publican who went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee essentially spent his prayer time bragging to God about what a good man he was, while the publican begged for mercy. Jesus said that the publican went home justified, but the Pharisee didn’t. This gives us some insight into Jesus’ attitude towards Pharisees, although I don’t think Jesus was implying that all Pharisees were like the one in the parable, but that the attitude portrayed was not what the people of the time would have expected from the Pharisees. The Pharisees were religious leaders, and they were expected to be pious and holy, examples of all the best things of their religion. Jesus, of course, realized that, although some of them may have been exactly that, many were not.

In Luke 7, it tells that one of the Pharisees, a man named Simon, invited Jesus to dinner. A woman came in and kissed Jesus’ feet, and anointed them with ointment. Simon “spake within himself” that if Jesus were a prophet, He wouldn’t let this woman touch Him. Now, it seems fairly obvious to me that the phrase indicates that Simon didn’t say this aloud, and yet, Jesus knew what he was thinking. Furthermore, it seems fairly clear that He also knew what the woman was thinking, although she said nothing. Granted, her actions showed a willingness to serve, and an acknowledgement of His position. Jesus went on to lecture Simon about how her sins, which were many, were forgiven her, and that she could be trusted to love Him much—in fact, He said that her sins were forgiven because she loved much.

In John 9, a blind man is healed by Jesus, and the Pharisees attempt to dissuade him from giving Jesus credit for his healing. This man wasn’t about to deny his healing, though. He told them flat-out, “If this man were not of God, He could do nothing.” Their response was, “Thou wast altogether born in sins, and dost thou teach us?” as if they had not been born pretty much the same way the formerly-blind man had.been. It’s remarkable that the reaction of the Pharisees to such a notable miracle was to try to deny it, disprove it, and then, failing that, make accusations against the One who preformed it. I can understand skepticism, and I would imagine that God can, too, but these guys were so determined not to believe. No wonder Jesus generally didn’t want to have anything to do with them.

The Pharisees were also critical of the fact that Jesus spent so much time with “sinners.” Of course, if you understand that Jesus came to bring salvation, it makes sense that He would start with those who were most in need of it, even before you consider how much more willing they were to accept what He was offering. The Pharisees simply assumed that these people were easily misled, since they didn’t know the law. Jesus, correctly, pointed out that if the Pharisees would search the Scriptures, they would learn of Him, but they were so secure in the own righteousness that they would only consider those passages that seemed to contradict Jesus’ claims (for example, there is a Messianic prophecy in Micah that says that the Christ would be born in Bethlehem, but the nativity story was not well known and the conventional wisdom was that Jesus had been born in Nazareth).

In Luke 19, Jesus invited himself to the house of a publican named Zacchaeus, and many murmured against Jesus, because they believed that Zacchaeus was a sinner. Jesus, again, knew his heart, and knew that, although Zacchaeus’ occupation (publicans were tax collectors) was despised, it was not inherently dishonest. Zacchaeus may well have been the exception to the rule, but Jesus judged him by his heart, not by his reputation.

In Matthew 9, Jesus explained to the Pharisees that the sick need a physician, and that He had come to call sinners to repentance. The Pharisees should have been flattered by the fact that He didn’t suggest that they needed to repent, although clearly they did, but they had a hard time with the idea that one who claims to be righteous can spend so much time with undesirable people. It’s not as though it rubs off. Granted, one can be unduly influenced if one surrounds oneself with the wrong kind of people, but Jesus wasn’t worried about them changing His mind; He wanted to change theirs.

The point is, Jesus didn’t spend much time with religious people, because He knew that their hypocrisy ran deep. He made Himself a friend to those who were not religious, and who were willing to accept the Truth without trying to square it with what they thought they knew. We, of course, need to get fellowship with other people that believe what we believe, but we also need to show ourselves friendly to those who have not yet come to know what we know. We do need to be careful to not let them drag us down, but we should be trying to help them up. Jesus is our example, after all.