Carl Trueman once noted that “to lead is to choose” (Fools Rush In, 35).
In other words, it is the task of leaders to make choices for which they will bear responsibility. Followers can “like” and “retweet” and “share” all day long. They can choose to go along with various opinions, various leaders, but if/when a leader’s ship goes down, followers are free to jump ship and in all honesty point to the failure of the leader. Leaders have no such luxury. Leaders make choices and own the responsibility for those choices. They have no one to point at but themselves. To lead is to choose a particular path, particular emphases, particular words, particular dangers. And the risks are many. The risks are making poor decisions and squandering time and resources, making poor decisions and confusing followers or worse leading them astray. Leaders risk being misunderstood, hypocrisy and lack of integrity, or the plethora of temptations that come with actually being followed.
In the same chapter, Trueman cites Mark Dever’s critique of what he calls the “cult of choice” afflicting modern culture, an aversion to commitments that seem to shut down other options. This is the single guy syndrome, the fear of being limited, the fear of constraints. The cult of choice doesn’t mind choosing favorite movies, favorite musicians, favorite clothes or food, because heck, you can change your mind next week if you want to. But marriage is kind of big deal. If you choose poorly, there you are shackled to a pill of woman. Having children sort of commits you to a storyline — your life doesn’t belong to you anymore, your schedule submits to the needs of the little people in diapers. And if you stick your neck out and do anything really bold — like share the gospel with your next door neighbor, take an unpopular stance and give the raspberry to everybody’s favorite thing — like mock the current orgasmic obsession with all things natural/organic/alternative, you run the risk of commitment. You run the risk of being forever labeled (“freak” “close minded” “fundamentalist” “nerd” “Republican” “meany”) and thereby forever banished to the gutters of public opinion. But the real fear in all these instances is the fear of being wrong and being stuck with the consequences. You can change your diet, change your wardrobe, change your style, but it’s a lot harder to shake a wrecked family, a lot harder to buy a new reputation. The cult of choice is a visceral aversion to any choice that might diminish future choices.
This is the fear of choosing a path, the fear of commitment, the fear of burning bridges, the fear of putting down roots, the fear of missing out, the fear of not succeeding, the fear of failure, the fear of not accomplishing much, the fear of disappointment, the fear of being wrong. Which, as Trueman notes, is basically the fear of real leadership. But behind all of those fears is the Mother Fear: the fear of death. People fear commitment ultimately because they fear limits, finality, coming to the end, the conclusion, the fear of being trapped in a story, like a bad ride at the fair with no escape. People fear making poor choices and then dying with the consequences. What if there was something better? What if it could have gone differently?
But Jesus died to free us from all fear, especially the fear of death. Hebrews says that Jesus partook of flesh and blood so “that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage” (Heb. 2:14-15). In other words, the cult of choice is ironically a form of slavery to death, but freedom is the ability to commit, the ability to risk, the freedom to fail and die and rise again. Christmas is God committing Himself to a particular story, to a particular family, to particular people in a particular place at a particular time. Christmas is God limiting Himself by choosing one way and not another. Christmas happened so that we might embrace our individual stories with joy and stop resenting our limits, stop fearing what might have been. And Easter happened so that now our stories can keep going. Now there is no end for those who are in Christ Jesus. Even the most ragged, messed up stories get new beginnings, get restarts.
This is because for those who are in Christ, death is not the end. Death has been tamed. And so we are not afraid of death anymore. Our sins are forgiven. Jesus paid for them all. Now we cannot be bound by our failures anymore. We can choose, we can lead, we can commit, we can dive headlong into life, completely fearless. There is no automatic protection from failure, from disaster, from serious disappointment. But we are running towards death, we are running towards a small hole in the ground about six feet deep. Serious prayers need offering, serious thought needs taking, good counsel needs gathering, but we also need a generation of choosers, a generation of fearless leaders, young men especially who will risk everything, who will take wives, raise children, lead their families with humility and courage and till the ground in front of them for the glory of Jesus until they collapse into it — men who will let go of their arrogant hopes and fanciful dreams and shiny reputations, and step up to the mic and go into all the world, cheerfully naming Jesus as Lord and obeying His call, come what may.
This year, what will you choose? What will you commit to? How will you be branded? In other words, Who will you follow? It’s a new year. Strap on your helmet, put on some gloves, and go make some choices.
Nanoha Takamachi says
What is the point of the first paragraph?
It appears only to isolate people who view themselves as “leaders,” rather than those who view themselves as “followers” or even those who do not view themselves as either a “leader” or a “follower.”
I can understand the point of the post well enough, but the first paragraph strikes me as pointless.
Carl Hesler says
“…men who will let go of their arrogant hopes and fanciful dreams and shiny reputations….”
I am a young man, and so I am curious: Among “arrogant hopes” and “fanciful dreams,” which do you think are particularly common? …for young Reformed guys you might know?
Also, what about the fear of apostasy? Specifically, the fear that, if I read this non-Christian book, I will know it is false and yet go with it anyway?
[As for the points you make, I agree. Have you read Chesterton’s _Heretics_? “On Certain Modern Writers and the Institution of the Family” is a great chapter from it–one that contains similar themes to the ones you discuss here.]
Christopher Hayes says
Sir, I respectfully disagree with you on two points. First, I don’t know if “single guy syndrome” is the most correct title for this. Perhaps “the cult of choice” would have been better? Second, I don’t understand the connection to the fear of death.
On the first point, I do agree that a “cult of choice” type mentality does affect a lot of people in our churches and our nation, and that this likely does play a factor in why a lot of single guys are single. But, to dub that “single guy syndrome” is misleading. Indecision (whether from the paralysis that too many choices often causes or a selfish desire to keep yourself from being invested in others) is found in a lot more than just single guys, as the title of this article would indicate, and contributes to many more issues than just singleness.
On the second point, I don’t understand the connection here to fear of death. First, regarding the “cult of choice”, I agree that fear of living with unfavorable consequences is what drives indecision in a lot of people. But, given that people undergoing long-term suffering often commit suicide, your the link to the fear of death itself as being ultimately behind the first fear doesn’t seem to solid. Second, your link to single guys and a fear of death (see article title) is also not particularly strong, given the well published elevated mortality rates of single men.
Respectfully,
Christopher Hayes
/Christian, single, professional leader, not particularly afraid of death