Thursday, November 19, 2015

Crybullies & Snowflakes

A few days ago I was introduced to the term crybully. Daniel Green breaks it down for us. 
The crybully is the abuser who pretends to be a victim. His arguments are his feelings. He comes armored in identity politics entitlement and is always yelling about social justice or crying social justice tears.

If you don’t fight back, the crybully bullies you. If you fight back, the crybully cries and demands a safe space because you made him feel unsafe.

Lions form a pride, crows gather into a murder and crybullies cringe into a crymob. The crymob demands a safe space because free speech and dissent makes its crybullies feel very unsafe.

Crybullies can be found just about anywhere nowadays but they are nowhere as plentiful as on college campuses. Here’s a crybully in action at Yale University.

Clearly, Roger Kimball is correct when he observes that the crybully “has weaponized his coveted status as a victim.” 

Now, what has given rise to the crybully phenomenon? It seems the answer may be found in a mental condition commonly called Special Snowflake Syndrome

A recovering sufferer of this malady explains:
Special Snowflake Syndrome: The belief that one is a proverbial “unique and special snowflake.” Symptoms include inflated self-importance and an unfailing sense of entitlement. Those with exposure to excessive coddling in childhood are at especially high risk.

Thankfully, there are signs that crybully snowflakes and their “safe spaces” may be melting away soon. Consider South Park and snowflake delusions…

Fellow followers of Jesus Christ, let’s learn from crybullies and snowflakes.

We needn’t suppress free speech and expression. We needn’t be angry and fearful. Rather, we need to be secure in Christ and speak His truth in love. Jesus offers to lead us out of “safe spaces” and into His kingdom: Follow Me.

Yeah…He’s talking to you.

(Yes, I know. He’s talking to me too. Settle down, Snowflake.) 

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Good Pain

God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world. . . . No doubt Pain as God’s megaphone is a terrible instrument; it may lead to final and unrepented rebellion. But it gives the only opportunity the bad man can have for amendment. It removes the veil; it plants the flag of truth within the fortress of a rebel soul. (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, p. 83,85)

Several years ago an emotionally wounded man approached me with a bitter complaint against God. He said to me (I paraphrase):
Suppose you had a father who relentlessly hurt and abused you. And no matter how much you wanted his love and acceptance and tried to please him you just got beaten down instead. How would you feel about this father?

His implication was abundantly clear. He felt he was a victimized son and God his heavenly Father was pretty much a moral monster.

How could I help this brother?

I immediately decided to reframe the situation in hopes of providing him with a different mental image of God and suffering. I painted another portrait for him to consider and I’d like to share the picture with you.

Let’s think like this…

When we are experiencing pain, we should envision God as a great physician. Life wounds us. None of us comes to God whole. Rather, we come to him—time and time again—broken and battered, dazed and confused. Sin is our problem.

God the Great Physician is determined to make us well and He will stop at nothing to do so. He will perform radical procedures to cure what ails us. He will tirelessly repair, restore, and rehabilitate all that harms or diminishes us. And as anyone with even a modicum of experience with doctors will tell you: The most skilled and compassionate physician will often inflict a lot of pain.

But it’s good pain. It’s the pain of progress and healing. Our great physician God brings good pain into our lives so that no amount of brokenness will cripple us.

Now, dear reader, which picture do suppose is more accurate? Does God most resemble a mean father or a great physician? How can we know for sure? I think the answer is clear when we see God in the face of Jesus Christ. 

Life breaks us. Jesus makes us whole. His work is often painful but it’s never loveless.