About a year before I came to UA, I had an interesting encounter with a man who called himself “Brother Jim.” Brother Jim upset a lot of people on the University of Montevallo campus. A few students cried; some vociferated rebuttals; still others did nothing.
What I had trouble understanding that day was why my intelligent peers continued to congregate around that man when few, if any, supported his assertions. My pal Kristin tried to explain her compulsion to me this way: “I need to be here so that others will know that what he’s saying isn’t the truth.”
This is illogical. Who, on the basis of one man’s statement, would really believe that all sorority girls were women of ill repute? Moreover, if one were so naïve as to accept such blanket statements without pause for consideration, could such an individual possibly benefit from poorly phrased rebuttals? The ultimate issue and concern for me was that my peers had allowed one man to anesthetize their good sense.
I did not see a reason to “put him in his place,” as Kristin begged of me. Rather, I felt it would be impertinent to abrogate his free speech when I require that mine be respected. Nonetheless, my peers were intoxicated by his verbal malt liquor and needed an intervention to awaken their critical thinking skills. Stepping into the center, I asked our guest first if he believed that salvation was received by grace, through faith, and not of works lest any person should boast (Ephesians 2:8-9). I asked the same of the crowd.
Since all agreed that this was the case, I pointed out that we all were really in agreement on the issue and, therefore, that all ought to leave en masse (which everyone did). The problem was not that Brother Jim was so scandalous; the real issue was that we were not responding rationally.
This past Wednesday, I went to the Ferg to get lunch. I saw Evangelist Warner’s sign and beheld the crowd, but I choose not to join the throng of students. Why? Because I knew what I believed and I knew that my presence there would concede respect to the spectacle.
Apart from “You make me sick,” I am ignorant of his message. I know not what he preached, but I can infer that it was attention-getting. (But I remind myself too that John the Baptist ate locusts, Ezekiel went around in the buff for more than a year and Noah had a boat up on blocks for several years, so eccentricity does not equal novelty, and audacity does not signify or refute Divine calling.) So while I am ignorant of his platform, I am persuaded that it is of absolutely no significance compared to our personal and collective response.
See, just as my colleagues at Montevallo had subjugated their reason to their emotion, so we too must take care that the nose down which we cast a judgmental stare does not obscure our view of our own humanity.
If we call him a freak, a lunatic, a misogynist or a delusional zealot, we show ourselves to be guilty of the very same thing of which we accuse him.
If our primary contention is that he bares unjustified malice, let us be careful not to utter hateful statements about him.
If we say that he judges others, then let us not judge him. For you see, it is when we respond with hateful, judgmental, and condemnatory labels that we incriminate ourselves of a no lesser transgression.
Now please hear me clearly. I am not defending Mr. Warner; I am not accusing him, either. What I want you to understand, patient reader, is that the most important thing we must do, be it for Brother Jim, Evangelist Warren, or any other soul on our campus, is to respond in such a way that shows that we really do possess truth in our minds and in our hearts.