When I read the phrase “moral portrait” recently, it stirred a memory of my dad. At some period in my much-younger days, I remember my dad talking about the late-in-life actions and the last words of some of the older men in his community. As several of these men lost mental awareness and as they lost verbal filters, they did and said things that were shocking–given their legacies and reputations as moral examples in the church and community.
That seemed to be a personal warning and a frightening prospect for my dad. He talked about ways of preventing such a turn of character, such a radical change in the core behaviours of apparently-virtuous men. It made him think and speak very seriously about what it is that comes out of a person’s mouth after the normal filters are gone.
A couple of years ago, I had a very serious head injury from a fall. As I was recovering, I thought about the fact that I might well have had the kind of brain damage that forever removes the cultural sensitivities and filters that keep my darkest thoughts and feelings from pouring out of my mouth.
In considering my moral portrait, I’m thinking a lot about myself and about other influential people who have been considered “moral examples” to their families, their communities, and even to the world. I’m thinking especially of the “painted portrait” that my granddaughters and grandsons may hang on their mental walls and look at for a long time.
What is, to me, most concerning is that we men naturally want to paint portraits of the achievements and accomplishments and the battles won against the enemy. And we sorta wish that those we admire in those ways would also have a little moral compass hidden away somewhere. But that doesn’t really add any brush strokes to the portrait we paint. It’s more like a fingerprint accidentally left on the back side of the canvas.
Given the contemporary stories of pastors, leaders, governors, fathers, I want to go on record with a few points. I don’t really care if most of my readers appreciate these, or not. I really care about what my wife, Rita, sees; what my daughters and sons-in-law feel; what my granddaughters think; and what my grandsons admire in my developing portrait. I believe that encapsulates the grand idea: I care what God thinks.
First point: I value and respect the wisdom and the prophetic voice of someone like Beth Moore, and her insights into the world of theology, church, denomination, and politics. Such voices must change our world; not because they are faultless, but because they draw attention to areas of blindness, abuses, ignorance and corruption. When men of influence, power, and status dismiss such voices and tell women like her to “go home,” we do so to our own peril.
The enduring “portrait” of faithful women to whom God has given a platform and a special way of communicating wisdom and perspective will last forever. Just as biological procreation is not the domain of one gender, so the call to moral excellence and virtues is also the artistry of female and male intellectual intercourse.
Second point: We men must pay close attention to the colours and media that are being applied to the canvas where our portraits are appearing. Male voices have always been abundant. We have decided which elements matter in a finished portrait. We have excelled in preserving the memory of men who leave behind a beautifully-painted portrait of wisdom, achievement, and moral example. It just seems that we’re finding that some of our portraits are being spoiled by a false sense of superiority and control, and the absence of many common virtues. And most of that is being exposed by the women who should have been speaking into the story all along.
The critical concerns expressed by female voices often don’t fully overlap with the chorus of male voices. Most Christian men seem to define an excellent “moral portrait” as one of successfully avoiding the forbidden sexual activities. In my experience, a woman’s idea of morality is more related to integrity–the harmony of words and actions–evidenced by love and empathy.
Radiant and awe-inspiring colours are a product of light. A simple prescription for an accurate and honourable moral portrait can be found in 1John 1:7: But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.