I deleted Facebook. Sort of.

by Jonathan

I just couldn’t do it any longer. I couldn’t maintain an awareness of what hundreds of people are up to on the daily, and then meet with clients on the daily too.

I’m hoping it’ll mean I have more energy for correspondence, for conversation.

What a struggle! There is such a conflict between wanting to be “where the people are” and wanting to stay sane. I’ve made the argument. But when being “where the people are” means dying a little on the inside every day, what do you?

For me, I’m afraid that online engagement was making me like people less and less. It was also, over time, making me think less, read less, enjoy life less.

I’m not afraid of a good disagreement or a feisty discussion, but it’s just gotten to be too much for me psychologically, emotionally, and even spiritually.

There have always been people with whom we disagree. Even vehemently. But in times past, you interacted with those folks sparingly, and even if you interacted with them daily, you interacted with them in geographically confined spaces (e.g., the workplace). But now, we carry those people with us in our pockets. All of them.

Hundreds of folks go to the bathroom with us, spouting their opinions. They lay in bed with us, making sure we read their opinions right before we fall asleep. And we all know they’re going to be there, staring us in the eyeball the second we wake up. I don’t think I can take it anymore.

I wrestled with deactivating Facebook. I have a bunch of Facebook videos embedded on this blog and other places around the internet, and I’d like those to stay working. So I just changed my password to a random new one that I won’t remember. If need be, I’m sure I can “recover” my password and log back in. But it wouldn’t be a spur of the moment thing.

We’ll see how this goes…

all for ONE,

Jonathan T.

unamerican?

by Jonathan

Is it un-American to critique parts of our heritage and certain elements of our country’s founding?

Is it un-Patriotic to peacefully protest against perceived deficits in our application of justice (and mercy)?

Or are those things de facto BAD, evidence that you hate America and everything she stands for?

Was it un-Hebrew for the prophets of old to call out religious rot among their own people?

Was Paul a traitor when he shined a light on the wide open gates that led into the Kingdom?

Was Christ un-Christlike when he forcefully admonished churches for forgetting their first love, for sliding into comfortable, pleasurable idolatry?

I’ve been wrestling for a while now with this dissonance: American Christians, with a rich Scriptural record that’s so full of self-assessment, of national critique, of an obvious willingness to hold national (and ecclesial) leaders up to judgment, seem at times the most allergic to the same. Why is that?

Democracy needs healthy debate, to be sure. But what I see over and over is the inability to hold any critique for any length of time without devolving to name-calling, crap-slinging, contempt, which is not love.

But what if we loved?What if we disagreed vehemently with grace? What would that even look like?

Is it possible for someone to critique the church with love? Or will the church crucify them?

Is it possible for someone to critique the Republicans with love? Or will the Right destroy them?Is it possible for someone to critique the Democrats with love? Or will the Left annihilate them?

The Gospel is counter-cultural in every culture. I learned that during our eight years in Cambodia. I’m learning it still.

If you’re a follower of Jesus, would you join me in inviting Christ to reveal to us the parts of our ethnic, religious, and national culture, that are good and wonderful and Christlike? And would you consider inviting Christ to reveal to us the parts that are not so good, and in fact are maybe evil?

Let us love one another.

Is the primary danger “out there”?

by Jonathan Trotter

Note: this post was inspired by this article by David French.

As a homeschooled-in-the-80s kid, I’m well versed in the terrified cry, “The danger is out there! The danger is out there!” I can remember watching The Village and feeling like M. Night Shyamalan had just made a film about my life. (My parents didn’t yell this too loudly, but we were Gothardites.)

But is the primary threat “out there”? No. It is not.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve received a fraction of the pushback that David French has, but still, I resonated deeply with this:

“I get an enormous amount of criticism for not critiquing the secular left more than I do. Yet if I’m concerned for the health of the church, then corruption at the highest levels of the world’s largest Christian university, sexual predation by arguably Christianity’s most influential apologist, widespread conspiracy theories, and disproportionate disregard for the health and well-being of neighbors do more harm than the worst of Joe Biden’s culture war regulations or the most radical developments in the sexual revolution.”

The whole article is excellent, but here are a few more quotes worth pondering:

“If your reaction is that the greatest threat to human souls or to the church itself comes from without—from the external forces attacking Christianity or from the cultural temptations buffeting our children—then that dictates a very different posture to the world and approach to politics than if you believe the true threats lie within.”

A different posture indeed.

I have seen this fear, this alarm:

“If you believe the most dangerous threats come from without, fear can rise in your heart. As you lose political and cultural power, and you see others shape the environment in which you live, then you start to have genuine alarm that other people are destroying the souls of those you love. What a terrifying idea.”

There is hope, of course.

At the end of the day, the Church remains his, and he still loves her. He still calls her to remember her first love. I want to still love her too. I want to build more than I tear down. I want to heed with every fiber of my being Jesus’ call: “Your business is life, not death. Follow me. Pursue life.” (Matthew 8:22)

I want to love more than I fear.

I haven’t always done this, for sure. But I want to. I want to know Jesus more. I’m a few chapters in to Dane Ortlund’s new book, Gentle and Lowly, and it’s helping. It’s not about The Chosen, but it’s explaining, in theological terms, why the Jesus portrayed in The Chosen is so fascinating and healing and loving. He’s helping me understand why I cry every.single.episode.

Turns out, it’s because the stories are real. Ortlund writes, “Jesus is not trigger-happy. Not harsh, reactionary, easily exasperated. He is the most understanding person in the universe. The posture most natural to him is not a pointed finger but open arms.” He goes on to say that Jesus’ “deepest impulse, his most natural instinct, is to move toward” sin and suffering, not away from it.

Jesus is really like that.

And that is Good News indeed.

*Contains Amazon affiliate link.

The Podcast of Madagascar

by Jonathan

😎 The folks over at The Clarity Podcast just released a new interview I did on marriage that was recorded in Madagascar. My part starts around the 10-minute mark, and although my audio’s a bit wonky, I hope it’ll be helpful to someone. (I’ve since upgraded my mic in hopes that future podcasts sound a bit better. Still working on upgrading my voice, though.) Listen here, or wherever you podcast.

A Marriage Workshop and a Reimagined Song

by Jonathan

Happy Friday, y’all! So, fun fact: one of my songs just dropped on iTunes. 😃 Recorded by Nashville indie artist, Hetty, Follow Close is based on Psalm 63. It was written during our time discerning whether or not God was calling us to Cambodia. 🇰🇭 It’s a bit more artsy than my version… ha!

Buy Follow Close here!


Elizabeth and I are also excited to announce this hour-long marriage workshop that we did over at Global Trellis. We hope this encourages and blesses marriages around the world!