Sometimes, the best defense is not a defense.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock this week, you’d have heard of the death of John Allen Chau, the would-be missionary to North Sentinel Island. Though Chau intended to share the gospel, his method of reaching the tribesmen was dubious at best. (How could he do it by “hollering” and with no shared language? Was he really being loving in the invasive way he tried to reach the people?) It’s a story that’s both sad and deeply problematic.
Understandably, the criticism has kicked into gear. News outlets have rounded on Chau’s naivete, saying he took unnecessary risks, was a coloniser, broke laws.
But high-profile Christians have dismissed the criticism and sought to defend what he did.
“He was showing the greatest love of all to these people,” some have said. “He was a new Jim Elliot. We should celebrate his heart for God.” And the problematic elephant in the room is glossed over.
I’ve even seen the criticism of John Allen Chau’s mission couched as persecution on Christians at large – blaming the culture in an evangelical spin on “They’re all just haters”. “This kind of contempt affords us the kind of cultural status that the Scripture promises we would have,” as The Gospel Coalition bemoans.
Really?
I don’t want to dwell on Chau’s story per se, and I certainly don’t condone pillorying people publicly. But considering the event (a man was killed, probably unnecessarily), surely this is a time when criticism is something to pay attention to.
It makes me wonder if, in an age of internet outrage, more Christians are perceiving criticism as an attack on the faith. Even when that criticism is justified.
Christians make mistakes like anyone else.
Defensiveness over looking bad is strange when you think about it in light of the gospel. Nowhere is it written that Christians will always act wisely or well. (I can attest to that from my own life.)
Let’s not forget it’s a foundational belief of Christianity that we’re flawed and incapable of perfection.
So I scratch my head when I see Christians turning mental gymnastics trying to justify poor behaviour. Whether it’s muted apologies for a pastor accused of misconduct, or the moral maze of evangelical leaders justifying Trump as a “Christian”, it’s the same principle as a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar and pretending they can explain it away.
Not only does this PR come across as self-interest above all else, but it stifles the conversations we could be having. In the case of Chau, this is a perfect time to think about the romanticisation of missions (particularly in the US), the problem of colonisation and tough questions around martyrdom.
But if we pretend we’re always right? No learning can happen there.
Two things can be true: Christians can mean well and do badly.
That doesn’t mean faith is invalid.
When a defense is needed, it should be measured, not hysterical or reactionary. This is a skill that’s becoming more important in an age of outrage, and it’s a skill that I think many Christians are still getting their heads around.
Looking good is less important than speaking truth.
It’s natural to get defensive when you feel under threat. But if the Christian community values honesty and integrity like we say we do, speaking truth is more important than playing spin doctor. Acknowledging the wrong will go a long way to acknowledging the right.
There’s a regular imperative in the Bible to listen carefully to criticism. For instance, in Proverbs 15:31,
Whoever heeds life-giving correction will be at home among the wise.
Of course, that isn’t to say that you accept the criticism and move on. It’s the chance to start a conversation – and if the criticism is inaccurate, to explain why. It’s not a soapbox moment, but a moment to connect.
John Allen Chau’s story is very sad, and certainly many people will disagree with my analysis of it. That’s fine. I respect and defend the right of Christians to push back against criticism, just like anyone else.
But sometimes, I wonder if our fervour to defend other Christians isn’t because we agree with them, but more to save face. And this, to me, is unfortunate.
