Political Correctness

There are phrases we hear so often that they begin to sound and feel like truth. Phrases that are weak, soft illusions dressed up in a strong and noble tone. Phrases that are founded on ambiguous, sometimes meaningless words, loudly proclaiming its purpose without having any real vision of purpose.

Such a phrase is “political correctness.” It’s somewhat amusing to me, because people mindlessly use it in ways that are neither political nor correct. The very phrase itself offers only a thinly disguised self righteous, sanctimonious air. It’s like a shimmering mirage in the desert promising so much, yet lacking any real  substance. It promises safety, unity, kindness and peace, but delivers something that is hollow and brittle—something that is made up of soft words, fragile egos and nondescript purpose.

Political correctness asks us to live in a shroud of pretense. We pretend to be unified. We pretend connection. We pretend compassion. All the while, our words are nothing more than a feckless facade,… a masquerade if you will. It tries to sand down the rough edges of our words, to polish our conversations until nothing sharp remains. Yet, in doing so, it sometimes polishes away truth itself. It teaches us to fear offense more than falsehood, to value appearances more than authenticity, and to protect feelings at the expense of truth. So we find ourselves tiptoeing through conversations like nervous dancers on cracking ice,….afraid to say too much, fearful we’ve said too little, anxious that Truth Himself might be deemed impolite.

However, to question it’s usurped authority is to be labeled as lacking compassion, as being hate filled and ignorant. We are judged on every word we speak, to the point where even commonly used and understood words become land mines.

Dealing with political correctness in our culture is one thing, but it has insidiously imposed it’s dampened doctrine into the life of the church, attempting to alter the way we proclaim the message of the Gospel. I’ll state my position very clearly at this point—the Gospel has never been politically correct. If it were, words like sin, accountability, redemption and righteousness would be discarded. Sin? It has become a syndrom, a phobia, a disease, or maybe just a fault, whose mantra is “That’s just the way I am.” Accountability? Who needs it? With political correctness, there are no absolutes, no one to whom we must account for our actions. Redemption? Why bother,—we just all need to become better people. What about righteousness? PC says, “Who are you to judge what is righteous or not, you do you and I’ll do me.”

On the surface that may sound well and good, but that’s the problem, —it IS purely surface. It’s like applying a coat of paint on rotting wood. It may look better, but doesn’t solve the actual problem.

That seems to leave the church in this strange demilitarized zone. In days like these, when words are weighed, monitored and sometimes muzzled, the church must reclaim what political correctness tries to steal: courage.

Not the courage to shout, but the courage to speak truth.

Not the courage to offend, but the courage to speak in love. The courage to stand, not conform. That we, the church, would always have the courage to speak light into darkness, hope into despair, and truth into a world terrified by it.

Rather than trying to choose carefully rehearsed words, we should speak the truth with love. We should always strive to walk that fine line where we balance truth in one hand, and grace in the other. That place where our speech can be seasoned with grace, yet anchored in the truth of God’s Word. Where our words are spoken with compassion, yet rooted in conviction. A place where our voice can be gentle enough to heal, yet strong enough to challenge.

Jesus was kind, gentle and compassionate, but never once politically correct.

He told the woman at the well the truth about her life, not to shame her, but to set her free.

He confronted the Pharisees, not to embarrass them, but to expose the chains they pretended not to wear.

He called sin, sin, when the culture around Him wanted something less offensive, something more palatable.

That seems to be the challenge of today’s church.

Some would have us dilute the message for the sake of inclusion and acceptance. Where the Gospel becomes a weakened version of itself. Then there are those on the other end of the continuum that would desire scorched earth. Off to hell with anyone who doesn’t measure up to my standard. 

Jesus. Did. Neither.

He met people where they were and offered them redemption, deliverance, healing and hope. If the church is to stay relevant in this age, we cannot let carefully crafted words diminish the truth, the power, the authority of the message we proclaim. We must genuinely care for lost souls, not fragile egos. Political correctness does not change lives, but  the Gospel proclaimed in truth and grace does. Political correctness offers only a thin veil of make believe reality. It says it will bring harmony and peace, but the cost is far too great if we must relinquish our right to speak the truth. And truth alone will set you free.

As the church, the body of Christ, may we be people who choose the courage of Christ over the comfort of our culture; people who speak with the tenderness of grace, yet the firmness of truth; people who refuse to walk in the shadow of what is socially acceptable, but in the brilliant light of The One who is eternally true.