The Price of Compromise

There is a Russian parable that goes like this…

A hunter raised his rifle and took careful aim at a large bear. The hunter was about to pull the trigger when the bear spoke in a soft, soothing voice, “Isn’t it better to talk than shoot? What do you want? Let us negotiate the matter.”

Lowering his rifle, the hunter replied, “I want a fur coat.” “Good,” said the bear, “that is a negotiable question. I only want a full stomach, so let us negotiate a compromise.”

They sat down to negotiate, and after a time the bear walked away alone. The negotiations had been successful. The bear had a full stomach, and the hunter had his fur coat.

There are times to compromise, and there are other times when compromise will eat you alive.

We are being devoured by this type of compromise in our homes and our families, in our country and our churches. In our churches it takes the following form where inclusion has replaced evangelism, therapeutic self-acceptance has replaced conversion, and political correctness has replaced belief. Ah....political correctness....

Political correctness is the rot, the decay, the deterioration of ourselves, our society, our culture, our country. It is a cancer, both menace and plague. It is the bane that drives people to fire honorable men like Juan Williams for doing the once honorable thing of simply telling the truth. And it always starts the same way....with the bear....

The bear always sounds so reasonable, so fair, so simple, what's unjust about wanting a full tummy? He's the victim and you are the unjust hunter with the rifle, you might want that fur coat, but do you need it? And even if you need it, you have no right to it. And maybe the first negotiations ends with both parties walking away, with you agreeing to give the bear a few scraps from your table. And you make do with keeping warm with the blankets off your bed, hey, it's a compromise.

The problem is that the bear's negotiation strategy is to get you to forget that he's a bear, and he still wants that full tummy....he's not getting it from the scraps off your table. You still have the rifle and he's still a bear. There is only one end game, the compromise will be negotiated to the bear's success...oh, you will have a fur coat of a kind, but the bear will have a full stomach.

Then he will go after your children.