Category: Because Someone Has to Provide Oversight

That Funny Thing You (military) Do

Published on by D. G. Hart38 Comments

Is it wrong to be ambivalent about the U.S. military, or at least about the ways that Americans manipulate empathy for soldiers to produce a faux patriotism? A couple of recent incidents rekindled this question (which given its length may need a lot of kindling).

During halftime at the Crisler Center at the University of Michigan, the athletic department decided to honor one veteran recently home from the Middle East. The announcer asked for standing applause on the basis of what this young man had done to keep the United States free. The crowd responded positively, even the university students who one might have thought were more interested in the legacy of pacifists like the Big Lebowski than in the foreign policy of two different White House administrations.

Since I was grading papers and didn’t want to drop my pen again below the seats (occupied) in the row ahead, I remained seated and clapped my hands in a way that an Edwardsian would have charged as simply going through the motions. But as I looked around I wondered if the security guards at the arena would receive a similar standing ovation for making possible a peaceful space to root on our team. Or what about the police of Ann Arbor or Hillsdale who do put their lives on the line everyday also to make the United States a free society (though not everyone sees the police of America that way)? I certainly respect the courage and sacrifice that U.S. soldiers make and it is a calling that is conceivably more dangerous than monitoring fans at a basketball game (though I’m not entirely sure that all soldiers face the same dangers that police do). And while I admire the service that soldiers give to their country, what if I don’t think the United States should have military bases all around the world where the nation puts at risk the lives of her military? I certainly support wars of national defense when foes truly threaten our homeland. But can we really say that regime change in Iraq is protecting national security? It may be indirectly, though which citizen is privy to the intelligence reports that allow the government to make that case? But do I really need to think it my patriotic duty to support soldiers who are functioning in some way as global cops, that is, trying to bring order to other places in the world but not really protecting the security of Michigan’s residents?

When it comes to the military, the churches — my second incident — are not much more discerning about the U.S. military. For Veterans Day, Joe Carter posted 9 things we should know about military chaplains (doesn’t Carter know 7 is the perfect number?). One thing he did not mention, that we really should know, those of us who want ministers to be free and uncompromised in their ministry of word and sacrament, is that OPC or PCA chaplains minister alongside not merely Roman Catholics or United Methodists but also Muslims, Jews, and Wiccans. According to Carter:

The denominations with the largest representation (more than 100, both active and reserve) are: Southern Baptist Convention (787), Roman Catholic Church (350), United Methodist Church (274), Evangelical Church Alliance (174), General Council of Assemblies of God (153), Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod (149), and Evangelical Lutheran Church In America (128)

The spread sheet that comes linked to Carter’s post also indicates that the PCA has 1194 active chaplains compared to 2392 Wiccans.

I can appreciate the Defense Department’s reasons for employing military chaplains:

The purpose of chaplaincies. . . is to “accommodate religious needs, to provide religious and pastoral care, and to advise commanders on the complexities of religion with regard to its personnel and mission, as appropriate. As military members, chaplains are uniquely positioned to assist Service members, their families, and other authorized personnel with the challenges of military service as advocates of religious, moral, and spiritual well being and resiliency.”

Since Reformed Protestants (unlike Anabaptists) have no inherent objection to Christians serving in the military (in just wars, anyway), I certainly support provision for the spiritual well-being of soldiers. But if an Orthodox Presbyterian Army private is in a unit in Afghanistan where his only options are an American Baptist, a Rabbi, or a Mormon, I guess I encourage him to go to the Baptist’s services. But is the Department of Defense really providing for the religious needs of soldiers if they don’t have a chaplain for each soldier’s religious tradition or communion? One way around this is to have denominationally or religiously specific units — a unit of Wiccans with their own Chaplain and a unit of conservative Presbyterians with theirs. Another might be to fight exclusively wars of territorial defense — that way soldiers scattered across the United States might worship and receive spiritual counsel at local churches.

But why is it that confessional Protestants are generally so bullish on military chaplaincy? (Hint, the manipulative patriotism that goes with uncritical support of the military.) And why is it synods and assemblies allow men under their oversight to minister in contexts that are far worse spiritually (e. g., doctrinal indifference, religious syncretism) than those liberal Protestant communions (or their ecumenical agencies) that those Presbyterian and Reformed pastors and elders left behind?

Piece o' Cake?

Published on by D. G. Hart79 Comments

Not only can Christians put sin to death, they can also take charge of email (and more and more and more). Tim Challies explains how.

Here’s point 7 out of 9 on the sin front:

#7. BATTLE
Battle hard against the first awakenings of that sin. Never, ever allow yourself to play with sin. Never think you will sin this far, but no farther. Do not toy with sin. Do not think you can control your sin and allow only so much of it. If you do that, sin will win every time. The very second you feel that sin awakening within you, slam it down with all your force and all your strength. Cry out to God in that very moment. Call for help from other Christians in that very moment. Sin is like water held back by a dam; the moment there is even a small crack in that dam, the weight of the water pushing against it will blow a hole right through it, and the entire structure will collapse.

Email may not be as significant as sin but it prevents us from glorifying God (which is a form of sin, right?) and requires a similar set of instructions:

I have said that productivity is effectively stewarding your gifts, talents, time, energy, and enthusiasm for the good of others and the glory of God, and to this point I have suggested many different ways of doing that (You can see a series round-up at the bottom of this article). Our topic for this article is taming the email beast.

I think we all have a love-hate relationship with email. On the one hand email brings many good things—it delivers exciting news, encouragement from friends, and fun little notes from family members. It also has immense practical value—it delivers confirmation that the ticket order went through, or that the book we want is on sale. But, of course, there is a dark side as well—the endless spam, the email discussions that go on for far too long, the newsletters we didn’t sign up for, the chain letters promising bad luck if we don’t forward it to twenty more people. Email has become a mess of function and dysfunction. We need it, and yet we hate it.

Is this what Christian counseling sounds like?

Tim Challies’ advice may be helpful on fronts both trivial and sublime (though I usually expect more from Canadians). But I find it troubling to see a mechanical approach to both the gadgets of this earthly existence and mysterious depths of the sin-plagued soul. For the sake of New Calvinism and in the interest of taking such an expression of Calvinism seriously, I suggest that Challies try to sound less like Martha Stewart and more like Paul (“oh, wretched man that I am”).

Is This What A McDonald's "Chef" Says To Himself?

Published on by D. G. Hart48 Comments

That’s the analogy that Kevin DeYoung and Ryan Kelly’s brief for the Gospel Coalition brought to mind. They begin by asking:

Should Christians who share many of the most important theological commitments partner across denominational lines for mutual support and collaborative ministry? Are there historical precedents for the kind of gospel networks we see flourishing in evangelicalism today? How do popular extra-ecclesial gospel partnerships work (or not work) in the current U.S. church scene?

They answer (oh the suspense), yes, and more helpings from the Gospel Coalition, please:

We have no desire to spend our days as apologists for man-made ministry acronyms. If every organization in this article disappeared tomorrow, the gospel would keep going out and Christ would keep building his church. The question is not whether any of these partnerships are essential. The question, at least for us, is whether they help to support what is essential. Do they serve the local church? Do they help pastors? Do they defend the truth? Do they preach the gospel? Do they get people into their Bibles? Do they provoke people to pursue holiness? Will someone who gets deeply involved with the conferences, the resources, the websites, the documents, and the teaching of these networks end up more committed to the church, more engaged with Scripture, more sure of what they believe, more precise with doctrine, more equipped for reaching the lost, more passionate about the nations, and more delighted with the glory of God in the face of Christ? If the answer is a yes—or even a qualified yes—then for our part we are eager to see these movements flourish and eager to partner with those similarly concerned for and similarly committed to the same gospel.

The problem here is whether “ministry” can really happen outside the church or the context of a worshiping community that has clear lines of responsibility among members and their officers. In other words, is it not possible for Kelly and DeYoung to see that an outfit like the Gospel Coalition provides a meal — it is real food, yes — but a fast-food version of it. People who eat at McDonald’s are not going to be healthy if that is all they eat. People who only eat at McDonald’s have only a commercial relationship — the sales staff at McDonald’s doesn’t know my name and pays me no visit to find out if I’m eating regularly at home. I could also easily take my fast-food eating elsewhere — say to Burger King (Together for the Gospel) or Wendy’s (Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals) or In-and-Out-Burger (White Horse Media). But if I dine elsewhere, what does it cost me or McDonald’s except for some kind of numerical or accounting? Plus, does the staff at McDonald’s ever teach me how to cook, what to look for in the food I buy, the value of exercise, or how to set up a kitchen?

No.

But who does? Well, my mother did, which may be why we call the church our mother. Pastors regularly provide a sumptuous feast every Lord’s Day and then come along side to see if I am eating at home. They also provide instruction on how to read the Bible (cook for myself). And best of all, pastors and I have a relationship cemented by vows. Those ties are not always pleasant, sometimes boring, and maybe not thrilling in the Passion Conference sense (which since we are in the ballpark of analogies must be similar to the thrills of X Men though I wouldn’t know never having submitted to the gimmicks of its special effects). But those relationships are substantial and sustaining.

What is troubling then about the folks who cook up gatherings like the Gospel Coalition is that they don’t seem to understand the difference between spiritual fast food and ministerial slow food. And they don’t even seem to sense that the conveniences of fast food may not be healthy for those eaters who already have the rich fare of a local and disciplined congregation. I mean, if Gospel Coalition was providing spiritual fast food for a nation of starved eaters, then maybe their menu is the best they can do. But that isn’t the case. In fact, as Kelly and DeYoung admit, the designers of TGC are already pastors in congregations and denominations where real ministry already happens, where Christians are truly fed and instructed. So why would they purposefully offer an inferior product? Or could it be that they believe their product is superior?

If so, I’d like to know when Tim Keller takes Kathy out for their anniversary if they go to Jack in the Box.

Preparation for Worship

Published on by D. G. Hart34 Comments

I had to scratch my head after reading this one:

Why are you part of a church community? Why are you a member of a church? Why do you go to the public gatherings of the church on Sunday morning? Broadly speaking there can be two reasons: You go for the good of yourself, or you go for the good of others. There is a world of difference between the two.

When I go to church for the good of me, I am free to be shy and introverted, free to keep to myself and free to be consistent with who and what I naturally am. I can hide in a corner or bury myself in a book. I can hope that others will come to me and pay attention to me. I can come for the service, sing some songs, hear a sermon, and slip out seconds after the final amen. I can do whatever is good and comfortable for me. I can hate that stand and greet time because of how it makes me feel, because of how it forces me shake hands with people who have colds, because of how it prompts me to judge others as less sincere than myself.

When I go to church for the good of others, I have no right to be shy and introverted, and no right to keep to myself. I have to die to myself and so much of who and what I naturally am. I can’t hide in a corner or bury myself in a book, but I need to seek out others and pay attention to them. I can come for the service, sing some songs, hear a sermon, and enjoy it all. But when I hear that final amen, I am right back to seeking out others and looking for ways to serve them.

I used to think — silly me — that the point of going to church was not for me or for my fellow members but to obey the first commandment: know and acknowledge God to be the only true God and our God, and to worship and glorify him accordingly. Maybe Mr. Challies simply took that reason for granted and was interested more in “body life.”

Still, one of the reasons for the worship wars and the silliness that God’s people have had to endure for the last 35 years (though in many instances they wanted it and got it good and hard) is that Christians seemed to forget that worship was chiefly an instance of entering God’s presence and honoring and praising him as creator and redeemer — you know, assembling with all the saints (living and dead) and angels at Mt. Zion. If you go with that understanding, you may actually come across as one of God’s frozen chosen since you may be thinking more about how to please God (and worried about offending him) than about whether the pastor and church members were friendly.

I mean, for all of that theocentric rhetoric of the New Calvinists, their hugs, sighs, and embraces send a different signal.

From DGH on Book Briefs Submitted on 2014/10/30 at 2:28 pm

Published on by D. G. Hart5 Comments

Mark,

Have you no titles from Jesus on the life of Christian bachelorhood?

From DGH on Reformed Theological Diversity Submitted on 2014/10/27 at 3:45 am

Published on by D. G. Hart24 Comments

Mark,

Why do you continue to insist on theological diversity on some things but not on others? Isn’t it strange that you can find a variety of Reformed voices on baptism, justification, ecclesiology, and the Mosaic Covenant, for instance, but then you go straight to a “thus sayeth the Lord” — you know, pound the Bible — when it comes to the imitation of Christ? I think it is. And surely you must be aware that when you recommend the reading of Scripture you are promoting a book that has a variety of theologies and any number of interpretations. Is the study of the Bible as diverse as your voices from the Reformed past?

But you may find you are in good company when it comes to Reformed diversity. Perhaps you’ve heard of Oliver Crisp’s new book, Deviant Calvinism. In his interview with Christianity Today he sounded like you:

One is the question of free will and salvation. Reformed theology is often identified with determinism—the idea that God determines everything, and we don’t really have free choice. From my eating Corn Flakes for breakfast to my having faith in Christ, all of these decisions are determined by God, and if we’re not automatons or robots at least, my decisions are only free in some very minimal sense. Well, historical material suggests there is a broader way of thinking about this within Reformed theology.

Two 19th-century Reformed theologians come to mind. The first is William Cunningham, who was a professor at the University of Edinburgh and one of the founding fathers of the Free Church of Scotland. He wrote an important essay on this topic, arguing that the Westminster Confession neither requires nor denies “philosophical determinism,” as he called it. He believed the Confession is conceptually porous on the matter and doesn’t commit its adherents to determinism, though it doesn’t exclude it either.

And the Southern Presbyterian John Girardeau argued at length against the influence of Jonathan Edwards on the topic of determinism. Whereas Edwards was a determinist all the way down, so to speak, Girardeau argued that the first human pair had a real undetermined freedom to choose between alternatives in original sin, and that fallen humans still have such freedom with respect to mundane choices like which political party to vote for, or whether to slap grandma rather than kiss her. But we don’t have this freedom in regard to salvation, he argued. That is beyond our reach and must be a work of God. Girardeau appealed to John Calvin over Edwards in defense of his views. He also appealed to the Reformed confessions, including the Westminster Confession, which certainly allows, in my opinion, that Adam and Eve had this freedom in their original estate.

But I wonder if your motive for emphasizing diversity is the same as Crisp’s? Are you as interested in the breadth of contemporary communions as Crisp is who is a member of the PCUSA (not exactly a unified church)? For instance, Crisp says:

My Reformed heritage is important to me, and I am an evangelical. I would characterize my approach to theology as about building bridges to those of other persuasions, and seeking to be a patient listener and charitable interpreter, while taking a clear line on particular issues in keeping with the tradition of which I am a part. There is a long history in Reformed thinking of doing just this, so I do not see any tension between a centrist theological view and confessional Reformed thought.

Whatever you own motivation for doing this, I sure hope you agree that when it comes time to vote on the floor of presbytery or General Assembly, you don’t abstain because you are aware of all the diversity in the room. If that were the case, then perhaps you would not be in the PCA but would still be in the PCUS which as you know became the PCUSA.

Mark Driscoll is to Ray Rice . . .

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what Tim Keller is to Roger Goodell.

At least that’s how TKNY’s quotation in the New York Times story about Driscoll occurred to me:

A front-page story in The New York Times on August 23 had suggested that Driscoll’s empire was “imploding.”

“He was really important—in the Internet age, Mark Driscoll definitely built up the evangelical movement enormously,” Timothy Keller, the senior pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York, told the Times. “But the brashness and the arrogance and the rudeness in personal relationships—which he himself has confessed repeatedly—was obvious to many from the earliest days, and he has definitely now disillusioned quite a lot of people.”

So like the NFL with Ray Rice, the gospel allies knew about Driscoll’s antics well before his pseudonymous comments went public. I know I have blogged about this before, but where was Kathy Keller with her b-s detector on this one? Why didn’t the most gospelly guys in the room warn the rest of the Christian world about Driscoll’s problems?

Maybe they need to take a page out of their savior’s playbook and call people (especially religious leaders) “fool” or “hypocrite” once in a while. If they want to start with me, their move.

Creatures of Habit

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Just watch students over the course of a semester. They have free wills to choose whichever seat they want. After the first week of classes, they have found the seat from which they will not depart for the rest of the semester. It is “his” seat. We have no need for assigned seating. We create our own assignments.

The same applies to worship. Liturgy repeats itself even in the most anti-liturgical of sectors of Christendom. Just ask Randall Balmer:

The biggest change in evangelicalism is its worship, which has become almost formulaic. Virtually every evangelical gathering these days opens with “praise music,” which generally consists of simple lyrics and a lilting, undemanding melody — all led by a “praise band” or “worship team” consisting of guitarists, a keyboardist, a drummer and several vocalists clutching microphones. The music is hypnotic. Members of the congregation raise their hands in the air, and the singing seems to last forever. As my friend Tony Campolo says, five notes, three words, two hours.

The second part of evangelical worship is the sermon or, as evangelicals prefer, the “message.” Whereas the preachers in my youth wore suits and neckties, the standard these days is jeans and T-shirts, and probably a nest of tattoos. If the first part of the service is “feel good,” the second part is “be good.” Again, it’s formulaic. Sometimes it’s a political sermon disguised as theology, but more often the preacher enjoins the congregation to behave, to adhere to evangelical standards of morality, which are usually expressed in negative terms, with a heightened emphasis on sexual behavior. And then, with a prayer and maybe another song, it’s over.

What’s missing here? When I attend evangelical gatherings these days, I generally leave asking myself, What was “church” about that? I sang a few songs and listened to a sermon, but where was Jesus? Yes, the preacher may have invoked his name a couple of times, but in the absence of the Eucharist or Holy Communion, evangelical worship these days strikes me as barren.

Whereas Episcopalians or Roman Catholics believe in the “real presence” of Christ, that they encounter Jesus himself in the bread and wine of Holy Communion, most evangelicals take a dim, even dismissive, view of the sacraments. At most, they offer communion once a month or even once a quarter, and the bread and wine (actually, grape juice, a hangover from the temperance movement) merely remind us of Jesus.

So are the habits good or bad?

What To Do about Church Law

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If you are worried about antinomianism, then what do you do with those rules and structures that regulate the ministry of the word? In the OPC, for instance, ministers must answer in the affirmative to the following questions (among others):

(3) Do you approve of the government, discipline, and worship of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church?

(4) Do you promise subjection to your brethren in the Lord?

(5) Have you been induced, as far as you know your own heart, to seek the office of the holy ministry from love to God and a sincere desire to promote his glory in the gospel of his Son?

(6) Do you promise to be zealous and faithful in maintaining the truths of the gospel and the purity, the peace, and the unity of the church, whatever persecution or opposition may arise unto you on that account?

If you are a Presbyterian or Reformed Protestant minister and take vows like this, should you be careful in aligning yourself with parachurch ministries that replicate the means of grace that God has given to the church? Of course, life outside the church would not be possible without a parachurch organization. Everything from a non-denominational Christian college to National Public Radio qualifies as a parachurch organization. But there are parachurch organizations and then there are parachurch organizations. And if you are in one that has a mix of Reformed and non-Reformed church officers and that engages in work that resembles the teaching and preaching of the church — that even claims to support the church — have you engaged in antinomianism? What about the oversight that should accompany the ministry of the word? Isn’t the biblical model of oversight presbyterian? And even if you belong to a parachurch agency that is comprised entirely of Presbyterian officers, shouldn’t your organization be overseen by an assembly of the church? Does ministry ever happen without oversight by the church? Doesn’t the church matter? Doesn’t church law matter?

Before you answer, be sure to keep in mind (if you are a Presbyterian) that system of doctrine that includes a set of theological affirmations on oaths and vows (though why we need that chapter or whether anyone pays attention to it is beyond me):

1. A lawful oath is a part of religious worship, wherein, upon just occasion, the person swearing solemnly calleth God to witness what he asserteth, or promiseth, and to judge him according to the truth or falsehood of what he sweareth.

2. The name of God only is that by which men ought to swear, and therein it is to be used with all holy fear and reverence. Therefore, to swear vainly, or rashly, by that glorious and dreadful Name; or, to swear at all by any other thing, is sinful, and to be abhorred. Yet, as in matters of weight and moment, an oath is warranted by the Word of God, under the new testament as well as under the old; so a lawful oath, being imposed by lawful authority, in such matters, ought to be taken.

3. Whosoever taketh an oath ought duly to consider the weightiness of so solemn an act, and therein to avouch nothing but what he is fully persuaded is the truth: neither may any man bind himself by oath to anything but what is good and just, and what he believeth so to be, and what he is able and resolved to perform.

4. An oath is to be taken in the plain and common sense of the words, without equivocation, or mental reservation. It cannot oblige to sin; but in anything not sinful, being taken, it binds to performance, although to a man’s own hurt. Nor is it to be violated, although made to heretics, or infidels.

5. A vow is of the like nature with a promissory oath, and ought to be made with the like religious care, and to be performed with the like faithfulness.

6. It is not to be made to any creature, but to God alone: and, that it may be accepted, it is to be made voluntarily, out of faith, and conscience of duty, in way of thankfulness for mercy received, or for the obtaining of what we want, whereby we more strictly bind ourselves to necessary duties; or, to other things, so far and so long as they may fitly conduce thereunto.

7. No man may vow to do anything forbidden in the Word of God, or what would hinder any duty therein commanded, or which is not in his own power, and for the performance whereof he hath no promise of ability from God. In which respects, popish monastical vows of perpetual single life, professed poverty, and regular obedience, are so far from being degrees of higher perfection, that they are superstitious and sinful snares, in which no Christian may entangle himself.

What Does It Profit a Lineman if He Preserves His ACL and Loses His Soul?

Published on by D. G. Hart171 Comments

If you want to know what it was like living under King Manasseh, consider the following: evangelical Protestants are more worried about football’s effects on breaking bones than they are about football players breaking God’s law.

One of the amazing accounts of Israel’s sorry history is the reform effort of King Josiah. Don’t get me wrong, oh you sons of the obedient boys. Josiah’s reforms were terrific. What’s amazing is how far God’s people had descended:

And the king commanded Hilkiah the high priest and the priests of the second order and the keepers of the threshold to bring out of the temple of the LORD all the vessels made for Baal, for Asherah, and for all the host of heaven. He burned them outside Jerusalem in the fields of the Kidron and carried their ashes to Bethel. And he deposed the priests whom the kings of Judah had ordained to make offerings in the high places at the cities of Judah and around Jerusalem; those also who burned incense to Baal, to the sun and the moon and the constellations and all the host of the heavens. And he brought out the Asherah from the house of the LORD, outside Jerusalem, to the brook Kidron, and burned it at the brook Kidron and beat it to dust and cast the dust of it upon the graves of the common people. And he broke down the houses of the male cult prostitutes who were in the house of the LORD, where the women wove hangings for the Asherah. (2 Kings 23:4-7 ESV)

That’s just for starters.

But how different is the state of U.S. evangelical Protestantism when you consider the priorities included in this piece about the dangers of football?

The inherent dangers of the sport should not and cannot be taken lightly—but all athletic endeavors come with risk, and thankfully every level from the NFL to peewee football leagues are taking large strides toward improving safety. They are developing better equipment, technology, and practices. They are ushering a better, safer football game onto fields across the country.

And yet, American kids are more likely to be watching the game on the couch or playing Madden on the Xbox than running around playing pickup games. With many schools reducing physical education requirements, only one in four young teenagers (between ages 12 and 15) get the recommended one hour of exercise a day, according to federal health statistics. In a culture that is rapidly becoming more sedentary, we can be grateful for athletic heroes who encourage kids to get out there and play. The NFL’s Play 60 program promotes daily physical activity to young fans. Such campaigns are immensely valuable and something we as Christians should consider promoting as well.

All parents—Christians or not—have to figure out if we’ll encourage our own children to play football, and we know that each year more of us hesitate to put our kids in youth leagues. It makes sense to proceed with caution. But especially given how few kids will end up going pro, we can weigh the decision with the positive impacts of playing team sports: learning how to win and lose with grace, respecting coaches, teamwork, good sportsmanship, and the benefits of exercise. We can also take practical steps, such as ensuring that our kids know the warning signs of injury, and that their coaches are certified through USA Football’s Heads Up program.

I have hope in the experts shaping the next generation of players for an even better football experience for them and for the fans. I believe in the power of this sport, and I believe that it has a valuable place in our culture. We can see its impact pulsing through American stadiums, sports bars, and living rooms.

I can’t think of another institution that provides the instant camaraderie (or fierce rivalry) as football loyalties. I also just enjoy watching it—it’s fun! The pageantry, tradition, and on-field drama give us unique entertainment in a way that only unscripted and live sports can.

I’m sorry, but if evangelicals are going to fret publicly and select officials on the basis of their concerns about upholding the sixth commandment (the sanctity of human life), or the seventh commandment (marriage), or the second great commandment — love of neighbor (immigration reform) and not worry about the fourth commandment (worship and rest from secular activities), why in heaven or on earth should I take them seriously?