Legalism

After a public outcry and a round of bad press against the entertainment behemoth, Jeffrey Piccolo’s lawsuit against Disney will proceed as planned.

Piccolo and his wife, Kanokporn Tangsuan, were dining in a restaurant called Raglan Road, which is of part of the Disney Springs shopping center adjacent to the Disney World entertainment complex. Despite making her food allergies clear and being reassured that her meal would be allergen free, Tangsuan suffered an allergic reaction after her meal, and died of anaphylaxis.

Piccolo subsequently sued Raglan Road, and included Disney in its list of defendants, despite the fact that Disney didn’t own the restaurant but merely leased it the space to operate. As part of Disney’s defense, it cited some fine print in the Disney+ end user license agreement (EULA), in which the user agrees to resolve any future disputes in arbitration rather than court. Similar legal language is included any time a customer books a ticket to any of its theme parks.

Corporations like Disney often prefer arbitration over litigation because it’s faster, more cost efficient, and its rulings are binding. Also, because arbitration proceedings are private, there’s no risk of dirty laundry being exposed in court.

But a firestorm of controversy erupted because of all the public attention on Disney. It appeared the company was using a legal technicality to avoid any measure of legal culpability in Tangsuan’s death. As a result, the company reversed course. Disney Experiences chairman Josh D’Amaro released a statement, which included the following:

At Disney, we strive to put humanity above all other considerations. With such unique circumstances as the ones in this case, we believe this situation warrants a sensitive approach to expedite a resolution for the family who have experienced such a painful loss. As such, we've decided to waive our right to arbitration and have the matter proceed in court.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Though there are advantages to avoiding the formality of court to settle informal disputes, the court is society’s official means of securing a measure of justice and accountability. Businesses which use loopholes to shortcut justice will fall under God’s condemnation (Prov. 11:1; Deut. 25:16).

Judge Donna Scott Davenport was the subject of a recent ProPublica investigation because of the staggering rate at which children are arrested and put in a juvenile detention center. Among cases referred to juvenile court, the statewide average for how often children were locked up was 5%. In Rutherford County, it was 48%.

The exposé centered on one particular case where police were called to arrest several children at Hobgood Elementary School in Murfreesboro. The children were identified from video footage from a recent fight.

But the children targeted were not participants in the fight, merely onlookers. School resource officer Chrystal Templeton refused to arrest the boys who were fighting because she figured the local district attorney thought they were too young to be charged. But she wanted to find a way to charge all the other students in the periphery.

So, Templeton, in consultation with two local judicial commissioners fabricated a crime called “criminal responsibility” that they thought would apply. On that basis, Templeton and several other officers made a public spectacle of arresting several children on school grounds, weeks after the fight had taken place.

But it turns out, Templeton and commissioner Sherry Hamlett were incorrect. When Hamlett came up with “criminal responsibility for conduct of another” as a possible charge, there was a problem. There is no such crime. It is rather a basis upon which someone can be accused of a crime. For example, a person who caused someone else to commit robbery would be charged with robbery, not “criminal responsibility.”

As for Judge Davenport, she not only appointed the commissioners herself, but it was her reputation for harsh treatment of juveniles, that motivated Templeton to find a creative solution for charging the children. She thought that getting the children to appear in Davenport’s juvenile court would ultimately help them. Eventually, the families of the children collectively received almost $400,000 in settlements from a class action suit against the city and county for illegal arrests and incarceration.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Any adult that is overly punitive in dealing with children risks God’s anger toward those who mistreat children. Children need boundaries and accountability, but they also need grace, forgiveness, and enough space to make mistakes without being branded as criminal outcasts.

In an issue of CT magazine, Lisa Brockman shares her testimony of leaving the Mormon Church and became a born-again Christian:

As a sixth-generation Mormon girl, I believed that the Mormon Church was the one true church of God. I believed Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God. By age six, I was convinced that having a temple marriage and faithfully obeying Mormon laws would qualify me to spend eternity in the highest heaven—the Celestial Kingdom. There, I would exalt into godhood and bear spirit children. This was my greatest dream.

But there were temptations to resist. Throughout high school, Mormon friends of mine began drifting into the world of partying. Alcohol seemed to release them from the striving and shame that comes with performance-based love. For three years I resisted, feeling like a pressure cooker of unworthiness waiting to explode. As a senior, I gave up resisting, I jumped into the party world with the same passion I brought to the rest of my life, funneling beer without restraint.

Yet even as I felt liberated from Mormon legalism, I didn’t waver from believing that the Mormon church was God’s true church. During my freshman year at the University of Utah, I met Gary. Gary told me he was a born-again Christian—I’d never heard of one. For the first month of our relationship we avoided the subject. Then, on a wintry December day, Gary cracked open the door of this conversation.

Gary asked, “How do you know Mormonism is true?” I had never heard this question before. He continued, “Have you looked into the historicity of Mormonism? How do you know that Joseph Smith is a true prophet of God? How do you know the Book of Mormon is God’s Word?” More questions that had never crossed my mind. Within minutes, my unease turned into terror. What had felt like a firm foundation was dissolving into quicksand.

Nevertheless, our affection for each other was growing, and we knew this lingering division needed to be addressed. So we agreed to study the Bible together. It only took one Bible study to send me into a tailspin. I was shocked to find several crucial disparities between biblical and Mormon teachings. For five months I battled with Gary and the Bible, defending Mormonism with passion. But my fortress began to crumble as I compared the historical authenticity of Mormonism and Joseph Smith with that of the Bible.

This was devastating and infuriating. At the same time, it opened my mind to the biblical view of my nature—sinful, not divine. It also opened my mind to better understand God’s nature—three persons in one God, the Father being Spirit instead of flesh and bones. The Mormon God was a man who worked his way into godhood. The biblical God had always been God, unchanging. I struggled to wrap my mind around this.

I saw, too, that God was inviting me to walk into his kingdom through trust in Jesus. Covered in Christ’s righteousness, I would always be worthy of the Father’s delight and presence. But rejecting the faith of my forebears and risking the wrath of my family terrified me. I wanted further assurance that I was right to take this plunge.

After five more months of research, I was still wrestling with the idea of a Trinitarian God. One day, as I sat in bed conflicted, God drew near to me in a vision. I saw a sea of people around Jesus, who sat on a throne. They bowed before him, singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty. Who was, and is, and is to come.” As they worshiped, I fell to my face and wept. I received Jesus into my heart and walked into his kingdom. I was free of the shame that had suffocated me for 18 years.

On my 21st birthday, after consuming large quantities of alcohol, I spent the night fending off drunk guys who wanted to take me home. I steadied a friend’s forehead as she vomited into the toilet of a urine-soaked bathroom. I craved a different kind of life.

That same December night, I returned home and fell face-down before God. With fists clenched and tears streaming, I offered each addiction to him, inviting him to have his way in my heart, my mind, and my body. I asked him to free me to live fully surrendered to Jesus, the One who gives life.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt born again, as if God had performed a total heart and mind transplant. I was released from my addictions, and peace filled my entire being. The Mormon girl inside me breathed a sigh of relief. Set free from the burden of proving myself worthy, I rested in the arms of the One who had loved me enough to cover me with worthiness all his own.

Editor’s Note: Lisa Brockman is currently a staff member of Cru.

In Major League Baseball, it’s common for umpires to eject players or team personnel whose behavior is deemed out of line. But rarely does those ejected include the grounds crew. MLB umpire crew chief Terry Timmons later denied ejecting them, per se, but that’s what he appeared to do during a mid-September game between the Baltimore Orioles and the New York Yankees.

The Orioles had a one-run lead when storm clouds were gathering overhead and it appeared as though rain was imminent. As is their duty, the grounds crew stood beyond the first base line holding their massive tarp, ready to spread it over the field to protect it from rainfall. That is, until Timmons emphatically waved them off of the field. It was the ninth inning, and Timmons wanted to finish the game. After the game Timmons texted the Associated Press, "I didn't 'eject' the grounds crew. I just didn't want all of them behind the tarp, especially with the infield in.''

Timmons’ unspoken but understandable concern was with avoiding an unnecessary delay to the game. It takes time for the grounds crew to either cover or uncover the field, and that doesn’t even include whatever delay the rain itself might incur. With the game so close to its conclusion, Timmons’ desire echoed that of many American workers; after a long day of work, he just wanted to go home.

A few minutes after the grounds crew was ushered away, Yankees batter Brett Gardner ended up hitting a two-run single to win the game.

Possible Preaching Angle:

When we serve the Lord, we must have sound judgment. Wisdom isn't just mindlessly applying the same standard to every situation, but assessing the time and situation to continually discern the most prudent course of action.

A high school ethics textbook published by the Chinese government includes a revised version of John 8:3–11. In the Christian version, Jesus is presented with a woman caught in adultery and says, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (v. 7).

In the Communist revision, however, Jesus says the law has to be enforced and stones the woman to death himself.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This false translation represents the malicious teaching that Satan would have the world believe: God is merciless, harsh, and cold towards sinners who come to him. Satan does all he can to conceal the wonderful grace of God freely offered to all in the crucified and risen Christ.

In 2013, New York City narcotics agents announced an unusual indictment of five Brooklyn men. These types of indictments are, unfortunately, commonplace in metropolitan areas like New York, but this one did stand out.

The men who were charged were members of a Sabbath-observant drug ring. Though cavalier about New York’s drug laws, the group was scrupulous about observing the Sabbath. Text messages from members of the gang show them alerting their clientele of their weekly sundown-to-sunset hiatus.

Text messages, used as evidence against the group, included group chats to clients, “We are closing 7:30 on the dot and we will reopen Saturday 8:15 so if u need anything you have 45 mins to get what you want." The name of the NYPD sting operation that led to the drug bust: "Only After Sundown."

It's hard to imagine that anything literally hanging from utility poles across Manhattan could be considered "hidden." But throughout the borough, about 18 miles of translucent wire stretches around the skyline, and most people have likely never noticed. It's called an eruv (pronounced “ay-rube”) and its existence is thanks to the Jewish Sabbath.

On the Sabbath, which is viewed as a day of rest, observant Jewish people aren't allowed to carry anything—books, groceries, even children—outside the home (doing so is considered "work"). The eruv encircles much of Manhattan, acting as a symbolic boundary that turns the very public streets of the city into a private space, much like one's own home. This allows people to freely communicate and socialize on the Sabbath—and carry whatever they please—without having to worry about breaking Jewish law.

As the writer Sharonne Cohen explains, eruvin were created by “the sages of the Talmud” to get around traditional prohibitions on carrying “house keys, prayer books, canes or walkers, and even children who cannot walk on their own.” New York City isn't the only metropolis in the US with an eruv. They are also in St. Louis, Atlanta, Baltimore, Chicago, Dallas, and numerous other cities across the country.

A cynic might wonder at the effort required to string wire around huge swaths of public space, in order to allow adherents of a religion to do what the tenets of that religion would otherwise prohibit. Even some religiously-minded observers might find it hard to imagine a God that wouldn’t regard this as the flagrant concoction of a city-sized loophole.

Possible Preaching Angle:

1) Excuses; Rationalization - We might shake our heads to think that anyone could believe that they could get around God’s law using this scheme. But in retrospect, aren’t we guilty of the same thing when we push the boundaries and think that we can get away with finding a loophole in God’s laws when we sin? 2) Jewish People; Law; Sabbath - As a positive illustration, this might be a loophole but at least this story shows how seriously our Jewish friends take their commitment to honor the Sabbath.

Rabbi Adam Mintz, co-president of the Manhattan eruv, talks more about it in this video.

Throughout history, human beings have always attempted to regulate behavior in order for people in a society to live peacefully and productively. Religious and secular values, societal laws, education, and politics have all been used to motivate people to adopt the better sides of our nature. The great atheist nation China has begun to implement a bold new plan to foster a more moral and industrious society.

The government has begun evaluating and ranking every citizen based on their behavior. As of 2020 all citizens have a new identity number and a social-credit record. Because of widespread concerns by Chinese citizens of the prevalence of corruption, scams, and scandals, the Communist Party has developed a system that would “allow the trustworthy to roam freely under heaven while making it hard for the discredited to take a single step.”

Good behavior is rewarded while bad is punished. “Rewards for high social credit—in other words, being deemed trustworthy—may include perks like free access to gym facilities, public transportation discounts, and shorter wait times in hospitals. Punishments for low social credit could include restrictions on renting an apartment, buying a home, or enrolling a child in one’s preferred school.”

Psychologists warn of the downsides: “People whose futures are tied to the score may make cold calculations about friends’ likely numbers in an effort to make sure no one becomes a drag on their or their family’s prospects. And they may decide against friending some individuals—or whole groups of people altogether.”

Some people know that the musicians, Taylor Swift and Kanye West, had a very public falling out in 2016. What people didn't know until recently was why the incident affected Taylor so much that she hid from the public eye. The Washington Post reports what she said in a Netflix documentary: "When people decided that I was wicked and evil and conniving and not a good person, that was the one I couldn't really bounce back from, because my whole life was centered around it."

She even describes getting into the music business for the very same reason: "We're people who got into this line of work because we wanted people to like us, because we were intrinsically insecure, because we liked the sound of people clapping, because it made us forget how much we feel like we're not good enough."

Possible Preaching Angle:

It might seem that legalism is dead and gone in this "live and let live" world, but experiences like this tell us that legalism is still very much alive. Many, like Taylor, experience a relentless drive to prove themselves “good enough” to those around them.

Once a man planted a garden and was delighted when shoots emerged. Every day he watered and weeded, and his garden grew until he was ecstatic to see plants bearing produce. However, a few days later, he went to his garden and was dismayed. Every plant showed evidence of hungry rodents and rabbits that had raided his crop. So he decided to erect a fence.

A few days later, the man again went to his garden and saw the same thing. So he put up another fence, another, and another. Every time he checked, he found vermin had raided the garden. Finally he realized critters could go over, through, or under each fence. So he built a brick wall with a deep concrete foundation.

Weeks later, he climbed the garden wall and was horrified to find it was choked with weeds. The ground was cracked, the plants wilted, and worst of all, his crop gone. Trusting in the wall’s protection, he had forgotten to tend the garden. He failed to realize the wall was blocking the sun’s rays. He also completely overlooked the greatest threat to his garden: the animals that had been inside all along.

How many Christian leaders trust in similar walls? Our carefully built boundaries erected to protect us from threats to our moral well-being, to our relationships, or simply to manage our time? Just relying on rigid systems won't work. They may even lead us right into the sin we’re hoping to avoid.

We already have boundaries in God’s law. God’s law is good but cannot save us. If those boundaries are not enough to transform us, why do we believe our own rules will be enough to decrease our desire to sin?

Possible Preaching Angles: Accountability; Legalism; Holy Spirit; Sanctification; Word of God – Boundaries can be of some help but they will not reform us or deal with sin. The most effective protections are walking in the power of the Holy Spirit, the daily intake of God’s Word, and open accountability with fellow Christians.

The 2010 movie Inception is a James Bond-like thriller in which a group of people enter another person’s dream (and dreams within dreams) to plant an idea in his mind. But in an early scene from the movie, one character (Arthur) explains to another (Saito) that it actually isn’t difficult to plant ideas in other people’s minds:

Saito: “If you can steal an idea from someone’s mind, why can’t you plant one there instead?”

Arthur: “Okay, here’s me planting an idea in your head. I say to you, ‘Don’t think about elephants.’ What are you thinking about?”

Saito: “Elephants.”

This simple concept helps explain why many rigorous self-improvement strategies struggle to yield lasting results. Diets constantly remind dieters what they’re missing out on. Every time a former smoker puts a nicotine patch on their arm, they’re reminded of what could be in their hands instead. These things can be great aids to cutting out unhealthy things, but alone, they’re frustrating reminders of the thing being cut out.

Anxiety has overtaken depression as the most common reason college students seek counseling services. In its annual survey of students, the American College Health Association found a significant increase—to 62 percent in 2016 from 50 percent in 2011—of undergraduates reporting "overwhelming anxiety" in the previous year. Surveys that look at symptoms related to anxiety are also telling. In 1985, the Higher Education Research Institute at U.C.L.A. began asking incoming college freshmen if they "felt overwhelmed by all I had to do" during the previous year. In 1985, 18 percent said they did. By 2010, that number had increased to 29 percent. By 2023, it surged to 44 percent.

For many of these young people, the biggest single stressor is that they "never get to the point where they can say, 'I've done enough, and now I can stop,'" [one expert] says. "There's always one more activity, one more A.P. class, one more thing to do in order to get into a top college. Kids have a sense that they're not measuring up. The pressure is relentless and getting worse."

Editor’s Note: You can view the 2024 stats here

For over 100 years Michelin has not only produced high-quality auto tires but also the premiere guide to fine dining. Achieving or losing even one star in Michelin's restaurant rating can have a dramatic effect on the success of a restaurant. One famous French chef claimed, "Michelin is the only guide that counts." That's why the restaurant world was shocked when SÉbastien Bras, one of France's most celebrated chefs, declared that he wanted to be dropped from Michelin's rankings. For over 20 years Bras had been honored with three stars (the highest rating). Michelin's restaurant judges called his food "spellbinding."

But in September 2017, Bras said the pressure to perform was too much. Bras announced, "Today, I want to give a new meaning to my life … and redefine what is essential." He said his job had given him a lot of satisfaction but there was also huge pressure that was inevitably linked to the three Michelin stars first given to the restaurant in 1999. He asked to be allowed to continue his work with a free spirit and in serenity away from the world of rankings, without tension.

Bras said, "Maybe I will be less famous but I accept that," adding that he would continue to cook excellent local produce "without wondering whether my creations will appeal to Michelin's inspectors."

Two-year-old Harper Westover lives in Washington, D.C.—her parents "insist she's just the tidiest, most polite, and well-behaved toddler in the nation's capital."

In August 2016, however, those "tidiest" and "well-behaved" descriptors were brought into question as a "Notice of Violation" appeared in the Westovers' mail, fining Harper $75 for littering in the alley behind her house.

The evidence? "[A] discarded envelope a city worker had found with a bag of trash in the alley … addressed to [Harper] from Bucky's Buddies, a kids club for fans of the University of Wisconsin at Madison," her mother's alma mater.

Harper's mother, Theresa, "said there's no way anyone in her family littered: Every week, she or her husband leave the trash bin outside their home in the alley for garbage pickup." But when she called to get the ticket rescinded, the solid waste inspector refused to do so.

It was only after an online uproar and local news coverage that a public works official "said he would waive both Harper's and her mother's violations."

Potential Preaching Angles: When faced with the weight of our sin and the seemingly impossible prospect of trying to find God's favor, we might find ourselves in Harper's shoes: feeling like a tiny child charged with paying a heavy fine. Yet "it is by grace [we] have been saved, through faith—and this is not from [ourselves], it is the gift of God" (Eph. 2:8).

Steve Brown writes:

I once asked a Jewish friend to forgive the church and me for [how the church has sometimes hurt] Jews in the name of Christ. I waited for him to tell me to get lost or, maybe, to forgive me. Instead, he started weeping. I had no idea why and asked him. "Steve," he said, "I didn't hear a 'kicker' in your remarks. Often people will say something like what you said to me but there is always a kicker. You guys want me to receive Jesus, get saved, or to ask for forgiveness for what 'we' did to Jesus. I waited for the kicker and there wasn't one. Thank you."

That conversation is one I've thought about a lot. One of the most tragic things about the church is that we have become, as it were, a "church of kickers." It's the "Of course God loves you … but don't let it go to your head," "God will forgive you … but don't do it again," "God's your loving Father … but don't forget about the discipline," or "God loves you … but that should make a better person." I can't tell you the number of times I've brought up Jesus and the woman caught in adultery, his love and forgiveness given to her (John 8:1-11), and people will bring in the kicker: "Yeah, but don't forget that Jesus told her to 'sin no more."' It's not that there isn't some truth in those statements. But they sometimes make God's love and forgiveness so conditional that, frankly, I can't deal with it. What was meant as good news very quickly becomes bad news because of the kicker.

In an interview in The New York Times, award-winning actor Ben Affleck reflected on the pressure to hide our broken areas. When he watches other movies that strain to make their heroes entirely likable and valiant, Mr. Affleck said: "I find that boring. Instead, I think it's interesting how we manage the best version of ourselves, despite our flaws and our weaknesses and our tendencies to do the wrong thing."

The article noted, "[Affleck] has also realized that for all of his Hollywood success, some part of him will always feel like a relentless striver who must prove, through his work, that he has a right to be there." Affleck put it this way:

That [relentless striving] never goes away. All these habits that we develop, that help us at some point, they have flip sides. In this case, it's hard to turn that feeling off … The urge of making it good and trying to make sure that it works, that you've done the most interesting version that you can—it's like a neurosis that drives me to work every day.

Imagine you are twelve years old again, and you love baseball. All your heroes are baseball players, all your extracurricular time is spent either with a ball glove in hand or watching a game on television, and, regardless of the season, it's been that way as long as you can remember. It's not that you're particularly good or particularly bad at baseball, you just love the game—the smack of the bat after a line drive, the smell of the grass, the feel of sliding headlong into second base. You've never had to defend it or describe it that way, but that's what you feel. And you can imagine one day having a jersey with your name on the back.

Things have begun to feel a little different this season, though, because twelve-year-olds have to try out for JV teams at the end of the year, and you get the feeling that not everyone makes the cut. You suddenly find yourself comparing your fielding skills with the other infielders and with players from other teams, and you start to count the number of times you miss balls that are hit to you. You keep track of how many strikeouts you get in each game.

Your coach has a way of calling you out, too. In one particularly bad stretch of the season, your coach calls across the field after you make yet another missed fielding play, "That's four times this game! Keep your head down!" You don't keep your head down, though, and after the fifth ground ball makes its way between your legs, your coach demotes you to the outfield. You replay his voice in your head. At your next at-bat, you strike out quickly, and you wonder if baseball is your sport after all.

Possible Preaching Angles: The authors note: "The Law is shorthand here for an accusing standard of performance. As we have noted, whenever the Law is coming, condemnation follows close behind. Whenever an expectation stands before us—from our coach, from ourselves, from God himself—we are either condemned by our failure before it, or made to be condemners in our fulfillment of it. The Law is the unfeeling voice of The Coach—it tolerates no excuses, it accepts no shortcuts. The Law is good, in that it proffers good fundamentals ('Keep your head down when fielding a groundball,' 'You shouldn't smoke,' 'Spend only the money you have,' etc.), but the failure which pursues it always creates a reaction. When we are criticized, we must defend."

We were married to Mr. Law. He was a good man, in his way, but he did not understand our weakness. He came home every evening and asked, "So, how was your day? Did you do what I told you to? Did you make the kids behave? Did you waste any time? Did you complete everything I put on your To Do list?" So many demands and expectations. And hard as we tried, we couldn't be perfect. We could never satisfy him. We forgot things that were important to him. We let the children misbehave. We failed in other ways. It was a miserable marriage, because Mr. Law always pointed out our failings. And the worst of it was, he was always right! But his remedy was always the same: Do better tomorrow. We didn't, because we couldn't.

Then Mr. Law died. And we remarried, this time to Mr. Grace. Our new husband, Jesus, comes home every evening and the house is a mess, the children are being naughty, dinner is burning on the stove, and we have even had other men in the house during the day. Still, he sweeps us into his arms and says, "I love you, I chose you, I died for you, I will never leave you nor forsake you." And our hearts melt. We don't understand such love. We expect him to despise us and reject us and humiliate us, but he treats us so well. We are so glad to belong to him now and forever, and we long to be "fully pleasing to him" (Col. 1:10)!

Being married to Mr. Law never changed us. But being married to Mr. Grace is changing us deep within, and it shows.

Robert Cialdini, a researcher and an expert on the theory of persuasion, conducted an experiment at the Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona. The park had a problem, as it made clear on a warning sign:

YOUR HERITAGE IS BEING VANDALIZED EVERY DAY BY THEFT LOSSES OF PETRIFIED WOOD OF 14 TONS A YEAR, MOSTLY A SMALL PIECE AT A TIME.

The sign plainly appealed to the visitors' sense of moral outrage. Cialdini wanted to know if this appeal was effective. So he and some colleagues ran an experiment. They seeded various trails throughout the forest with loose pieces of petrified wood, ready for the stealing. On some trails, they posted a sign warning not to steal; other trails got no sign. The result? The trails with the warning sign had nearly three times more theft than the trails with no signs.

How could this be? Cialdini concluded that the park's warning sign, designed to send a moral message, perhaps sent a different message as well. Something like: Wow, the petrified wood is going fast—I'd better get mine now! Or: Fourteen tons a year!? Surely it won't matter f I take a few pieces.