The Reformation was a critique of the Roman Catholic Church of that time. Our Puritan and Pilgrim forbearers came to these shores as a protest against religious sloth in England. Today the Bible can be taken seriously by thoughtful well-informed people because of critical disciplines. For the past one hundred fifty years (and more) biblical scholars have cultivated the arts of textual criticism, literary criticism, historical criticism, form criticism, and higher criticism.

We can believe, we do believe, that the Bible is a collection of sacred writings, inspired by the Spirit of God, recording one segment of the human family's experience with and understanding of God. But, we are not forced into some superstitious, "wacko" mentality in order to have faith— thanks to the role and function of criticism.

Faith is not blind. Rather it is profound personal commitment shaped, in part, by the full utilization of our reasoning, of our critical faculties.

If this is true of religion, it is true of all of life. The social critic paved the way for the American Revolution, the abolition movement, the social reforms of the 19th and 20th centuries, the civil rights movement— and now, an eleventh hour attempt to save the environment. The critic pricks our social conscience, informs our cultural tastes and enables us to think more clearly in a complicated world.

It all began when we first saw the light of day. Parental voices still echo in the chambers of our memories: Pick up your clothes...Take your bath...Brush your teeth...Don't play with matches...Mow the lawn...Be in by midnight...Accept responsibility for yourself.

The critic plays an indispensable role in helping us become who we are. Don't misunderstand. I'm not exalting the whining parent, the carping husband, the nagging wife, the overbearing supervisor. I'm talking about supportive loved ones, experienced friends, seasoned mentors. E. Stanley Jones once called his critics, "the unpaid guardians of my soul."

Moses, that super-hero of early Hebrew lore, learned to utilize his critics. There were his followers, an impatient, pugnacious, rebellious lot. There was Jethro, his father-in-law. And there was God. (Talk about "higher criticism!")

Moses' followers owed him everything. He had struck the shackles of slavery from their ankles and souls. Yet with Pharaoh's armies still gurgling in the Red Sea, his followers cried out against his leadership. In the wilderness of Shur, they needed water. In the arid land of Zin, they needed food. Again, in the desert wastelands, they needed water. Ungrateful and mean-spirited, some of them wanted to return to the security of their bondage in Egypt. Moses' followers were vocal unthinking critics.

There was Jethro, his father-in-law and a leader of the people in his own right. His criticism was more gentle and more to the point. He said, "You're trying to go it alone. You and your people are wearing yourselves out. Turn to others. Choose some wise and honest persons to work with you. We'll call them judges." (see Exodus 18:13-23) Moses heeded Jethro's advice. A leadership team was developed. A civil society was organized. Every morning those judges set aside a portion of their time to be with the people and to deal with community problems— like hunger and thirst.

And there was God, the highest critic of them all. There was a sense in which God held Moses accountable for splintering his people over the food and water issue. Years later God would remind him of that. (Numbers 27:14) But, God was available to Moses. Early on, Moses pushed some panic buttons. It wasn't just the food and water. It was his leadership role that was at stake. "What shall I do with these people?" cried Moses. "They're ready to stone me."

"Well, get out of there," said God. "Get away from that angry mob."

Then, agreeing with Jethro, God said, "Take some trusted leaders with you, some calm, older heads. And one more thing," said God. "Take your staff, your rod. It was with you on the banks of the Nile when I stood by your side. It will symbolize my presence. Have no qualms about the water and the food, about the needs of your people being met, I'll be with you. I'll go ahead of you. Your people will be cared for."

Well, it's an old story and a sketchy story— a blend of myth and reality. But there are lessons to be learned.

How did Moses react to all of this? He listened. He learned. He was not immobilized by fear or crisis. And God was a part of the process from beginning to end.

Moses listened. So often when the critic's voice is heard we grow defensive. We wear blinders and ear-plugs. We withdraw into shells of denials. But if we are to grow we must deal with reality. There's an old Hungarian proverb that says, "If one person calls you a horse— laugh at him. If a second person calls you a horse— think about it. If a third person calls you a horse— buy a saddle."

Listen to your critics...Listen to your critics, and learn from them. Moses learned that he couldn't go it alone. He needed to rely on others. One of the basic leadership principles that is being taught in seminars and workshops across the country is that a collegial, collective style is essential. A one-person show is an ill-fated show. The prima-donna, the "lone-ranger," is extinct in today's society.

Moses had his judges. Jesus had his disciples. King Arthur had his court. And we, if we are wise, will have a circle of friends and trustworthy associates to whom we can turn and from whom we can learn. Like Moses, we will move. We will not be immobilized. We will seize initiatives. We will be pro-active.

This past week I saw a young man in jail. I had visited him before. There had been a crime, probation, a violation of that probation, a second crime and a series of serious offenses against loved ones. And, there had been a pattern of denial, a refusal to accept reality.

Well, the young man and I sat together in the county jail. We talked together, reasoned together, prayed together— and then came to some agreements. Acknowledging the serious wrong involved, he would go to his victims, try to make amends, seek their forgiveness and start life over again. It is not enough to listen. It is not enough to learn. We must act. We are called upon to act, involving God in the process.

When Mary was three weeks old her mother died. Her father was an alcoholic. She grew up with learning disabilities and was a high school student before she read her first book. She was raped when she was a little girl; again in her early twenties. After being married, her husband abused her physically and emotionally. She was in and out of therapy.

But, as she was moving through all of this, perhaps because of this, God became a central reality in her world. She taught school for twenty-three years. She wrote a newspaper column; had a radio show; wrote five short books. She is an accomplished artist. I met her when she was in her late forties and a seminary student. She once said, "I'm still wounded by my past but I'm also strengthened....I have dedicated my wholeness and my brokenness, my pluses and my minuses to God who has been with me all along..." Then she said, "Okay God, we got through all of that. What next?"

Let me tell you what came next. She is the pastor of an English-speaking church in Panama. She is learning Spanish, taking street waifs and students into her home and living out a Mother Teresa sort of ministry. And God has been with her, ahead of her, all the way.

How do we handle the critical junctures of life? By listening. By learning. By acting. And by inviting the divine Spirit to ever be the heart and soul of the process.

David Hardin: We're talking about criticism, Jim, and yet we don't handle it very well. People resist criticism. Right?

James Armstrong: They do. Well, sometimes it is unwarranted, unjust, uncalled for, so if you are called a horse the first time, laugh at it. But if it is repeated frequently enough, you had better take it seriously. I think one of the things we dare not do is to respond with anger, pettily. Rather, we must stay on top of the criticism and attempt to learn from it and grow beyond it.

Hardin: I find it particularly hard to give advice or criticism to close members of the family or close friends. Why is that? I am afraid to ask my kids what the weather is because I'm afraid it will be misread as an attack.

Armstrong: I think when we are talking to youngsters we have to phrase everything we say very carefully. You've talked about four approaches to love that C. S. Lewis wrote about. I think when we raise questions, not necessarily critique, but when we raise pertinent questions with our youngsters or loved ones, if we do so gently and in an atmosphere of love, there will be a response that is based on mutual respect. I would hope so at least.

Hardin: This issue of criticism can be a dangerous thing. I have spent some time in the Third World. I know that public criticism of a government in the Third World in many places, especially in some of the Latin American countries and some of the African countries, is a dangerous game. You don't survive the public criticism. You disappear. We probably are not sufficiently grateful for our ability to be critical.

Armstrong: I think that is true and I think you have touched a real sore point with those who live in authoritarian or totalitarian states, military states, because they can disappear. They can be punished beyond our understanding of that sort of punishment, so criticism will take different forms. By the same token, those who have emerged as heroes or heroines in the Third World— Archbishop Romero, Dom Helder Camara, Cardinal Silva Enrique in Chile— have emerged as heroes in the field of human rights especially, because they have, with velvet gloves usually, been in a position to criticize both government and practice.

Hardin: I loved your comments about how Moses reacted to criticism, what seemed to make him great. You said that he listened. I see people chopping into criticism. I do that all the time. They will get half-way through something and I will say, "Well, wait a minute. You don't know what was going on." Moses listened. Then you said that he learned or he still was willing to say that whatever age he was, he could still learn. Then he was not immobilized. You see people getting immobilized by criticism?

Armstrong: Absolutely. I see it in government; I see it in business; I see it in personal relationships, afraid to open their mouths, less there will come back a critical response. We can't be immobilized like that.

Hardin: Some psychologist at a meeting once said that we have an inner-critic that sits on our shoulder and tells us that we are stupid, no good, dumb.

Armstrong: Sometimes. Sometimes we have so drugged that inner-voice that the self-criticism is not too helpful. We have been numbed to the critical voice within and perhaps that's when we need to listen to those external voices of criticism with a little more keenness.

Hardin: I think you are undoubtedly right. I want to switch to politics a bit since you have been wandering in this arena of seminary and church and pastoral work. There was a lot of discussion in this last election about the role of church and state. The church seemed to get into the game quite a bit. What is the correct or appropriate role of church in the elective process?

Armstrong: Dave, the church didn't get into the game. There were individuals who were speaking on their own behalf, or on behalf of their understanding of the faith, or perhaps misrepresenting their churches, who did get into the game. I think that was a part of the sadness of the Republican Convention. I think you had Pat Buchanan and Pat Robertson speaking as if they were speaking for the church and for morality. They did the Republican Party no service in so doing. There is a place for the voice of conscience, but the voice of conscience is not the institution. The voice of conscience is a very private matter.

Hardin: Yes, and we have to be quite responsible as to how we bring it up. Do you think that has peaked now? Do you think we have gotten hold of it? I hear all the time that some churches, especially evangelical maybe, are trying more and more to get into politics.

Armstrong: I think all you need to do is to look at the ministry of our friend Mr. Robertson to realize the Christian Coalition is gaining in strength, gaining in number, and is wielding a great deal of influence from Oregon to Florida, in Texas, New England.

Hardin: I guess what I'm hearing from you is that we not lose sight of the need to keep these things clear and separate.

Armstrong: They have a constitutional right to do what they are doing. We should not question that, but we should not let another person function as our conscience.