The Bible contains several memorable paradoxical statements that render our contemplation:

• Humble yourself. And God will exalt you (James 4:10)

• Glory in weakness. And God will give you strength (2 Corinthians 12:10)

• Give to others. And you will receive blessing from God (Acts 20:35)

• Be a slave to righteousness. And you will find freedom from sin (Romans 6:18)

• Lose earthly ambition. And you will gain heavenly satisfaction (Philippians 3:7–8)

• Die to self. And you will live for greater gain (John 12:24–26)

• Whoever loses his life will find it (Matthew 10:29)

One of my favorite paradoxes is that of Christ. Jesus is the lion and the lamb. If you were to ask a crowd to choose a team mascot, 100% of people will pick "the Lions" versus "the Lambs!" Could you imagine the team cheer!? "Let's go lambs! Let's go!... Go, lambs, go!" It does not have the "ring" of being a very intimidating or successful team. 

But this is precisely the paradox that Christ embraces. He is strong yet gentle. Mighty yet meek. And we are more grateful for this than we can possibly imagine because Jesus is not only passionate for the holiness of God, but he's gentle to sinful man as well! 

This is good news for us because we are grossly flawed people. Yet he is loving and gracious with us. We are often so inconsistent, ungracious, inconsiderate people at times. But Jesus loves us despite the ugliness we often exude.

So what does this have to do with theology? As theologians, Jesus calls us to be both passionate for God's holiness and charitable toward other people. Like a lion, Jesus drove money changers out of the temple (Matthew 21:12–13) and cursed the self-absorbed Pharisees (Matthew 23). However, he was "gentle and lowly" to sinners (Matthew 11:29). 

Jesus knew when to be caring and when to be confrontational. But how do we find that balance? Often those who are zealous about right thinking about God and his word tend to sway more into the confrontational camp. Confrontation is not necessarily bad, but if that is the only string we pluck on God's instrument of grace; the message will be lost in the translation. Author and pastor Garret Kell  gives us a modern-day picture of what this imbalance looks like:

If I. . . have correct theology, labor for justice, preach stirring sermons, liberate the oppressed, memorize the Bible, gain a platform, protest evil, evangelize unreached peoples, fight heresies, call out hypocrites, and win theological arguments. . . but have not love; I am nothing (1 Corinthians 13:1–3).

If we have the best theology and a mediocre love for people we are lopsided Christians. And lopsided Christians who are all about "holiness" and not about "love" do more damage than good in spreading God's kingdom purposes. 

Believers must live radically, paradoxical lives for the sake of Christ. We must be zealous and gentle, passionate and lowly. Never sacrifice "caring for people" at the altar of "pursuing good theology." These things are not diametrically opposed to one another; there is a better way: a way that loves God and sinful people with boldness, humility, and gentleness.

Lord, give us the grace we need to love people where they are at and wisdom to know when to speak the truth in love. Teach us to be like Christ who did "not break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick." In Jesus' name, Amen.