Lessons from the Empty Nest

I read a book a few years ago, Unashamed by Heather Nelson, that undid me. Her chapter on parenting and shame deeply convicted me, and I went to my daughter in tears asking for her forgiveness. That undoing was the beginning of a positive change in our relationship. Better communication, better listening, and better understanding along with the help of a great Christian counselor. We're still learning and growing, but I am also aware of the times when I failed her and probably contributed to some of the issues she is presently dealing with. This knowledge is one of the reasons why I want to swoop in and make things all right thinking that perhaps I can make it up to her and undo the past.

This very issue came up in a recent conversation when I was beginning to worry about her, though I said nothing. Thankfully, my daughter could read between the pauses and picked up on my fear. She called me out to her credit. When I finally admitted that my desire to try to help her stemmed from wanting to make up for the past, she reminded me that I can't atone for myself. And she also gently reminded me that's why I need Jesus.

The gospel is the only remedy for mom guilt. I can't atone for my sins as a parent, which is why Jesus died. I could never be the perfect Christian parent, which is why Jesus lived. And his atoning work and righteousness revealed apart from the law is received by faith - in him - alone.

As hard as I tried and still try to be a good mom, God is her perfect parent, the all-wise, all-loving Father who is really responsible for all the details of her life. I will fail again, but He cannot. I will misjudge and misunderstand, but He sees and knows perfectly. My presence and influence are limited now. He never leaves nor forsakes. He restores. He renews. And the only way she could be disinherited is if her Father becomes displeased with the work of the Son.¹ As a middle-aged empty-nester, I need that fatherly care just as much.

They say you never outgrow being a parent. Well, you never outgrow being a child of God.


1. If you want to be encouraged, here are some messages on the doctrine of adoption. The source of that sentence is from the first talk by my pastor. (My struggles came to light the evening after the conference when adoption was fresh in my mind. God is so kind.)

(This post was originally shared on my personal blog in September 2019)

The Great Equalizer

When you have loved ones who are aging and declining, it's hard to avoid facing death, and it is sobering. For some reason, the phrase "Death is the great equalizer" came to mind the other night, so I googled it. References to Shakespeare came up, but the Bible describes this far better than any literature could.

"The wages of sin is death" 

This statement certainly encompasses us all no matter our station in life, bank account, or IQ score. In Adam all die, and none of us are exempt. But the verse doesn't end there, thank God.

"but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord."

Death may be a great equalizer, but there's another far greater equalizer. The gospel. When it comes to salvation, there is nothing we can do to merit God's favor. No matter how good we think we are or what sort of spiritual lineage we think we have, those things are nothing. But there is also no one who has sunk beyond the reach of God's grace. There is one Savior for the pharisee, the publican, you, and me. Christ alone paid the debt that we could never pay. Christ alone lived the life we could never live. The only thing we bring to the table is our sin, but Christ brings everything.

There are brothers and sisters who I would disagree with doctrinally, but when we stand before the throne of God, we aren't going to be pulling out our theological resumes and showing them off. We will be bowing before the Lamb and saying that He is worthy.

And when, before the throne,

I stand in Him complete,

"Jesus died my soul to save,"

My lips shall still repeat.

Doctrine Matters: Imputation

For decades as a Christian, I was taught and believed that Jesus got me in the door, but the rest was up to me. This was terrifying. I remember crying as a child wondering if I would have the courage to be a martyr for Christ, and wondering if I would lose my salvation if I failed. I remember hearing about the movie, A Thief in the Night, and wondering what would happen if I wasn't ready. I lived with so much uncertainty that current events would strike fear in my heart because I doubted I would be good enough when Christ returned.

Finally one day, I was raking leaves and listening to R.C. Sproul's lectures on What is Reformed Theology?. When he discussed the doctrine of justification by faith alone, it was as though the sun broke through the darkness, and I experienced assurance for the first time in my Christian life.

"In the final analysis, the only way that any person is ever justified before God is by works.  We are saved by works, and we are saved by works alone.  Don't touch that dial..."

"[W]hen I say that we are justified by works and by works alone, what do I mean by it? I mean that the grounds of my justification and the grounds of your justification are the perfect works of Jesus Christ. We're saved by works, but they are not our own. That's why we say we're saved by faith, and we're saved by grace, because the works that save us aren't our works, they're Somebody else's works."¹

God takes my sin and places it on the righteous, holy, perfect Lamb of God and expends His wrath upon the Him. But if the story ended there, my sins would have been dealt with, but what about my life? What about God's just requirement that we be holy as He is holy? He takes the perfect righteousness of Jesus Christ and puts that to my account. This is imputation. There is no question anymore of where I stand before God. The endless cycle of trying to earn acceptance before God is broken once and for all.

The understanding of imputation also holds out the only real hope that real Christians have of maintaining real acceptance with the real God. The reality of imputed righteousness is a real encouragement to ongoing sinners. Even as believers we must admit that sin is mixed with all we do. Even though we are justified believers, we still stumble and fall. We still make backward steps. What will keep a believer persevering in the face of remaining sin? Just this: the knowledge that the righteousness that renders us acceptable to God is not our personal achievement. It is Christ's righteousness achieved for us.

What is a Christian to do when he stumbles and falls in sin?  He must keep looking to Christ by humbly repenting and starting over.  This is how we battle discouragement. This is what keeps us from losing hope. On the believer's worst day this thought can keep him from utter despair: Jesus Christ is my righteousness. To see, remember and believe that God has credited Christ’s righteousness to us and has on that basis accepted us once and for all, is to find the strength and the direction to fight against every form of discouragement and temptation and frustration in life.²

This is why I love the doctrine of imputation. Having lived without assurance so long, it's no wonder I can't forget the day when I realized that peace with God rested outside of me or my performance. I still stumble and my assurance may waiver, but there is someone else that I can look to - Jesus Christ, my righteousness.

Sources:
1. What is Reformed Theology? Teaching series by R.C. Sproul, Ligonier Ministries.
2. Imputation: The Sinners Only Hope - Thomas K. Ascol, Founders Journal, Issue 59, Winter 2005, pp. 1-13.

This is based on a post from my personal blog from 2010.

Difficult Passages Series: Judges 19 and The Gospel

Identity & the Gospel in Judges 19
Difficult Passages for Women Series


Whenever speakers or expositors read the passage in Judges 19:1-30, they invariably take great care to caution their listeners about the horrific events contained therein. Such is the depth of the concubine’s suffering, degradation, and circumstances of depravity. At the end of the chapter, even the author declares:

All who saw it said, “Nothing like this has ever happened or been seen from the day when the sons of Israel came up from the land of Egypt to this day. Consider it, take counsel and speak up!” (Judges 19:30, New American Standard Bible).

Placing the Judges 19 account within the larger context of the book of Judges brings out the doctrine of the depravity of man and the wretched state of the culture in those days, whereby everyone did what was right in his or her own eyes, because there was no king to rule (Judges 17:6, 19-1, 21-25). 


The story of the Judges 19 woman begins with a magnifying glass on her own sinful condition (v. 2), but quickly turns to the sinfulness of those around her and the culture at large. By the end of Judges 19, the concubine's story graphically depicts the reality that in a culture, given over to autonomous self-gratification, the death wages of sin typically pour out on its weakest members.

With that backdrop, I also hope that women will come to see how the truth of the Gospel of Christ can speak into even the dark, hopeless state of the Judges 19 woman. We can and should bring the Gospel message to bear even in these utterly hard passages.


Covenantal Nature of Identity.

First, let’s consider the covenantal nature of our identity. Contrary to covenant, none of the characters in Judges 19 account are named. Each of the participants is essentially an anonymous entity, likely intended to convey meaning on several levels. For instance, the Levite, the stranger, the father, and the concubine are representatives, like the literary “everyman,” who in this case ties us back to the point at the time of the Judges, when everyone was doing what they saw as right in their own eyes. The collective identity of Israel was indistinguishable from the depraved, Gentile surrounding culture. In those days, Israel's depravity had become as bad -- or worse -- than that of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19:1-29)

In this way, the concubine represents the people of Israel as a whole, individually enslaved by sin, and collectively abandoned to wickedness by the very leaders (represented by the father and the Levite) who were responsible for their well-being. But other layers of meaning concerning the anonymity of the concubine apply here as well. For instance, concubines who were barren or who did not provide a male heir to their masters were not named in the Hebrew Scriptures. A concubine derived her identity in the covenant community from fulfilling the particular role of heir-bearing. Otherwise, she would typically not be remembered by name within the historical covenant narratives.

Individual Nature of Identity.

Similarly, today, women associated with the dehumanizing acts of sexual abuse, or perhaps enslaved to sexual sin, suffer greatly with issues of identity, due to inherent objectification in society, along with perhaps finding themselves defined by past sexual relations. The shame they bear, both spiritually and culturally, often causes women to become silent, hidden, and even go underground. They, like the Judges 19 concubine, become anonymous entities whose lives matter little to their depraved masters, or the culture around them.


But…. these deep issues of identity as women in societies where illicit sexual circumstances anonymize and silence its victims are redeemable by our Lord Jesus, who is our true King.

True Identity.

Even in a land where people are selfishly and murderously doing only what they want to do, Jesus really is the true and better Israel. He stepped up as King, also took the place of the priest — and the concubine. He became the true Everyman, for those who believe on him.

He is the perfect Husband who protects his bride. He doesn’t treat her as a concubine, but rather as his cherished possession. Jesus, unlike the Levite and the stranger, doesn't give his bride over to the enemy to have his way with her and abuse her. Instead, our King Jesus leaves his Father's house to reverse the curse. He comes to his Bride and offers his own body to go out in the bride’s place — to be torn apart for the twelve tribes of Israel.

Instead of allowing her to be given over, without hope or any possibility for rescue and to forever have her name forgotten, Jesus gave himself up on the cross for his bride. Now, her name is written on his hands (Isaiah 49:16) and she is his eternally. His body, battered and bloodied, serves as a reminder to the Church, that we are his people, and that he is our true King, Redeemer, Priest, and Husband.
 Jesus's broken body calls us to assemble together in unity and peace because of his blood sacrifice, much like the oxen Saul cut to pieces to call the Israelites together for war (1 Samuel 11:7).

Remembering and Reminding.

Likewise, the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper is a corporate reminder of the reality of Christ’s rescue. We need to remind one another and to be reminded of this Gospel truth. The prophet Hosea in chapters 9 and 10 looks back to the days of the Judges in order to warn Ephraim that they are behaving as those in Gibeah (Judges 19:15) by going after false gods and idols (Hosea 9:9). They had forgotten who they are; Whose they are; to Whom they belong. They were forgetting their husband, over and over and over.

Do we remind each other that we are his bride and that he has redeemed us as the prophet Hosea was called to redeem his bride, Gomer? That at one time we were not a people (Hosea 1:10; 1 Peter 2), but we too were delivered out of bondage and slavery (Exodus 20:2) and out of the kingdom of death and darkness (Col. 1:13) -- by the One who took our place and has called us by name? 


We are all prone to wander and forget our True King and Redeemer. He calls us to seek refuge in his Father's house; unlike the Levite, the strange, and the father in Judges 19, our Lord will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).


To be continued...

Begun in grace and perfected in glory

The coming of Christ has been on my mind of late. Part of it is because my pastor has just finished preaching a series on Revelation. The other part is the lingering sorrow that has been weighing on my heart. I am not a melancholy person by nature, but I can't seem to shake this undercurrent of sadness. Don't get me wrong, there are many moments of joy and laughter. There are many times of encouragement in God's Word and with his people, but there is lament mixed with praise.

What is going on? Am I getting inundated with too much news? Has the optimism of youth been replaced with the pessimism of middle-age? Am I feeling helpless in the face of so much suffering that is not just out there but close to home? Christ's second coming is looking better and better, and yet his return isn't meant to be just an escape hatch from this broken and sin-cursed world.

In my weariness, I turned to the passage that everyone knows and loves - Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. (Matt. 11:28 NASB) Too often I would pluck this verse out of its context. This time I read the whole chapter. I had never noticed Jesus' declaration that the Father had given all things to him right before his call for the weary to come to him. What is the connection between the two? Well, here is what Matthew Henry has to say:

All things are delivered unto me of my Father. Christ, as God, is equal in power and glory with the Father; but as Mediator he receives his power and glory from the Father; has all judgment committed to him. He is authorized to settle a new covenant between God and man, and to offer peace and happiness to the apostate world, upon such terms as he should think fit: he was sanctified and sealed to be the sole Plenipotentiary, to concert and establish this great affair. In order to this, he has all power both in heaven and in earth, ch. 28:18 ); power over all flesh (Jn. 17:2); authority to execute judgment, Jn. 5:22, Jn. 5:27 . This encourages us to come to Christ, that he is commissioned to receive us, and to give us what we come for, and has all things delivered to him for that purpose, by him who is Lord of all. All powers, all treasures are in his hand....

Note, It is the duty and interest of weary and heavy laden sinners to come to Jesus Christ. Renouncing all those things which stand in opposition to him, or in competition with him, we must accept of him, as our Physician and Advocate, and give up ourselves to his conduct and government; freely willing to be saved by him, in his own way, and upon his own terms. Come and cast that burden upon him, under which thou art heavy laden. This is the gospel call, The Spirit saith, Come; and the bride saith, Come; let him that is athirst come; Whoever will, let him come. [3.] The blessing promised to those that do come: I will give you rest. Christ is our Noah, whose name signifies rest, for this same shall give us rest. Gen. 5:29 Gen. 8:9 . Truly rest is good (Gen. 49:15 ), especially to those that labour and are heavy laden, Eccl. 5:12 . Note, Jesus Christ will give assured rest to those weary souls, that by a lively faith come to him for it; rest from the terror of sin, in a well-grounded peace of conscience; rest from the power of sin, in a regular order of the soul, and its due government of itself; a rest in God, and a complacency of soul, in his love. Ps. 11:6, Ps. 11:7. This is that rest which remains for the people of God (Heb. 4:9 ), begun in grace, and perfected in glory.

I so appreciate what this brother has written. I can still long for Christ's return, but I don't have to wait until then to find rest. This Jesus who calls us to come to him isn't a small, weak savior. All authority has been given to him to fulfill the plan of redemption, and his resurrection testifies to that success. After his ascension, Jesus did not leave us to fend for ourselves like a deist deity who is not actively involved with creation. Rather, the fact that you and I are saved and that people continue to hear the gospel unhindered is proof that God is at work in the affairs of men. He carries the government on his shoulders. I just don't have the eyes to see it sometimes. And it is from a position of present omnipotence that he offers a rest that is better than earthly safety and security. He has given us freedom from condemnation, peace of conscience, and a love that casts out all fear. Do I always remember this? No, but thank God it does not depend on me but on him. Totally unearned and undeserved on my part. Freely given on his part. It's no wonder Matthew Henry writes, "This is that rest which remains for the people of God, begun in grace, and perfected in glory." Yes, and amen!

Are We Called to Authenticity?

This morning we welcome Deb Welch, who blogs at All Things New, to the Out of the Ordinary team.

The quest for authenticity has seemingly grown more prevalent than ever in modern times. Justin Beiber was seeking it when he visited a church in New York City. Ann Voskamp tweeted about it. Mommy bloggers are blogging about it. And churches are forming companies and committees to cultivate more of it in their midst.

With all this popular interest, one would think that the contemporary quest for authenticity is something new. Alas, we know that there is truly nothing new under the sun (Ecc. 1:9b, New American Standard Bible).

The Ethics of Authenticity, written by Charles Taylor in the 90s, decried the negative trajectory of an inward and self-exalting focus developed by many authenticity advocates, on the one hand, and appreciated the honest and sincere intentions of adherents, on the other hand.

In the early and mid-nineteenth century, authenticity was also a bedrock among existentialist philosophers, vis a vis Heidegger and Sartre.  Sartre’s theory of “bad faith” was an aspect of authenticity that described the self-deception that comes from living as something or someone different from who you really are. As early as 1770, Rousseau, in his Confessions, argued that one's orientation toward life should come from a source within. The focus on inwardness, self-reflection, and introspection led to a space of interiority as one's guiding authority.

Who can forget Shakespeare’s notorious character in Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes' father? Polonius (the political poser, who ironically changed his spots whenever position and power were in sight), offered his son the infamous advice that would be repeated in high schools and Hollywood films centuries later, “This above all: to thine own self be true”. Never mind that this advice led Laertes to cast off values and moral conscience to madly pursue his inner desire to fulfill a personal vow of revenge. Not surprisingly, all of this resulted was his own tragic death  (Romans 6:23, NASB). As it turned out, the call to live an authentic life above all else was immanently bad fatherly advice.

As we look even further back, Aquinas argued for a “presumption of authenticity”, represented as the harmony between one’s inner judgements (including the will), outward acts, and future hope. According to Oxford seminary professor John Finnis, Aquinas’s presumption of authenticity was the underlying reason why Aquinas saw love of neighbor as the master rule of life. And if Aquinas dabbled in the philosophy of authenticity, certainly Augustine must have had something to say about it before him. Yet, whether or not Augustine specifically delved into the concept of authenticity, I’m convinced that his Confessions is potentially the best example of what true Christian authenticity, rightly conceived can be. More on that later.

All of this to say, authenticity is not a new idea, and as such, the concept comes loaded with all sorts of theological and philosophical baggage of which we would do well to be beware. For the most part, and at the risk of oversimplification, the quest by Christians to live authentically in our day follows two potential paths of thought.

On the one hand, the authenticity virtues of honesty, openness, and vulnerability are compelling.  In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis writes about how Christians often don a mask around other Christians to avoid judgment and humiliation, but it often results in hypocrisy and destructive perfectionism. Perhaps this is best argument for the side of authenticity. It has textual support that is quite convicting in the Gospel of Matthew when Jesus speaks about the Pharisees being whitewashed tombs, "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs which on the outside appear beautiful, but inside they are full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness” (NASB Mat 23:27). Not only did the Pharisees put on a facade out of fear of man, but it seems they were covering up their rottenness in order to hold onto their prosperous positions.

In our contemporary Christian churches, where many younger people have grown up in Christian subcultures rife with moralistic therapeutic deism, as Dr. Michael Horton calls it, no wonder the quest for authenticity has become a such a strong driving force.

But do these accepted virtues risk hiding a worse vice? For instance, an inward focus can take a selfish turn, when we say things like, “I just need to focus on me right now.” Too much authenticity can turn us into spiritual slackers.  We become comfortable with one another, soaking in our own muck, rather than being lifted out. Then we forget who we really are. 

In our huddles, are we saying sorry and being sorry, but perhaps never truly repenting? Are we confessing sins one to another, but perhaps never taking our petitions to the Lord and trusting in Him? Worst of all, if we pursue authenticity for authenticity’s sake, that can lead to a self-styled religion, where “I am that I am” is all about our very own comfortable, horizontally-oriented posture, rather than a vertically-oriented fear and awe of a holy God, who truly is the great “I am.”

We should beware of an inward search for truth and self, directed by finite, creaturely beings. It will ultimately lead to despair and isolation, even when we practice it together. Because our very identity and ontology comes from an external, transcendent creator, our ultimate reality -- our true selves and very nature -- are not inwardly determined. God tells us how we were created, what we were created for, and how we will find our greatest fulfillment both in this life and the life to come. Without Him and His Word speaking into our lives and our hearts, our endeavors to "be real" with one another will always fall short. Word-filled fellowship that lifts us up by the Spirit before the face of Christ will transform us into His likeness.

C.S. Lewis continues in Mere Christianity to discuss the metaphor of the mask in a positive way. While putting on a fake mask should be avoided, we can and should put on the mask of Christ. Even though we are not fully Christ-like right now, we are becoming more and more like Him. Lewis gives the illustration of a fairy tale in which a man is so unattractive that he can’t get any friends and is socially shunned. In order to change his appearance, he puts on a mask and wears it for a very long time. One day, he is forced to remove the mask and his face has actually been transformed into the image of the mask. Lewis’ point is that sometimes we have to start off by pretending to be what we are becoming. In future hope, we begin by putting off self and putting on Christ.

The second and better way Christians can conceive of authenticity is to consider the more technical -- and less philosophical -- definition of authenticity. If we view authenticity as "being of undisputed origin or authorship", "being faithful to the original", or "a reliable, accurate representation", we are in a much better position to see ourselves rightly. We were created in the image of God and we are being transformed into the image of Christ in our sanctification. This should embolden us to be honest and sincere with one another and free to approach the throne of grace. Let’s hold on to this reality and end the restless quest for our "true selves". Our author is the Lord Jesus Christ, and in Him we live and move and have our being.

In closing, I’m reminded of Augustine’s great example of what authentic Christianity actually might look like when we have the focus right. In his Confessions, he wrote this familiar quote, “Our heart is restless until it rests You.” So, let us rest in Christ, together.

“Let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (NASB, Heb. 12:1b-3)

References

Augustine. Confessions. Transl. Foley. Hackett Publishing, Second Edition. 2006.

Finnis, John. (as quoted in) Aquinas on Friendship, by Schwartz, Daniel. pg. 96.

Horton, Michael. On Moralist Therapeutic Deism. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBFqgEOCbEM

Lewis, C.S. Mere Christianity. Harper Classics. 2001.

Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/authenticity/

Shakespeare, William. Hamlet in The Penguin Shakespeare. Random House. 2016.

Taylor, Charles. Ethics of Authenticity. Harvard University Press. 1992.

A safe friend

Several years ago, I was at a small group meeting when one of the young children had about all she could take. She probably missed her nap. It was getting late. There was too much excitement, all of which was a perfect recipe for a meltdown. The adults were very sympathetic, though. I don't remember who said it, but someone stated that wouldn't it be nice if we were allowed to have our own meltdowns when we get overwhelmed, frustrated, or exhausted? I'm sure I laughed that evening at the thought of indulging in a nice cathartic tantrum, but I knew better. As adults, we learn what is socially accepted and expected. We have an idea of  how "good" Christians are supposed to behave, so we keep the frustration hidden inside. But as hard as we try, sometimes the pressure gets too great, and it all comes spilling out.

If you remember the tale of the "Little Red Hen," the main character goes about asking for help from the various barnyard animals. They all refuse her for one reason or other, so her response is "Then I'll do it myself." That's great for a storybook chicken, but the feeling that it is all up to you isn't very comforting. It's also not very comforting when you get the idea that you shouldn't ask for or need help in the first place. Well I had a recent "Little Red Hen" moment. I was overwhelmed with a pile of work. I was stuck in traffic. I was tired and didn't know where I would find the wherewithal to "do it myself," but I couldn't see any other way out. It may not have been a full blown meltdown, but I vented my frustration. Initially, there was some relief, but that feeling was quickly replaced with shame. I should have known better. I should have done better. I shouldn't be feeling this way as a Christian. But here I was, and even though I knew the truth in my head, my emotions weren't lining up as quickly as I would like. Hence more shame.

Thankfully, God came to the rescue in the form of a friend - a friend who asked me how I was feeling and listened to me. She didn't berate me for not getting with the program already, but she gently corrected me. She told me directly that I was leaving God out of the equation as though my work and the traffic were outside of His control. She also reminded me that I didn't have to "do it myself" because God doesn't turn away our prayers when we come to Him in need.

In Unashamed, Heather Nelson writes:

For times such as this, when you are feeling your most vulnerable, it is important to have someone "safe" to confide in. Safe does not mean perfect (since none of us are that). A safe confidant is someone who has proven over time his or her commitment to you, someone you can trust to be both honest and gentle with you and who allows you to similarly speak into his or her life. Such friends give you space for your feelings and thoughts, and they share theirs with you, too.¹

And this is exactly what my friend was to me in my time of need. It was humbling because she saw me warts and all in that moment, but those warts were no surprise. True and safe friends have no illusions because they have no illusions about themselves. They know and remind us of the gospel. They point us to the fact that we needed Jesus before we were saved, and we will never stop needing Him. They remind us of God's forgiveness, our acceptance in Christ, and the Holy Spirit's on-going work that is changing us from glory to glory. And this is why we need one another in the body of Christ. We weren't meant to "do it myself" or go it alone with no one to walk beside us.

So I'm thankful for my safe friend. I pray I would likewise be as true of a friend to her.

Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.  Col. 3:12-14

1. Unashamed: Healing Our Brokenness and Finding Freedom from Shame, Heather Davis Nelson, Crossway, 2016, pg. 46.

Review - Unashamed: Healing Our Brokenness and Finding Freedom from Shame

Unashamed: Healing Our Brokenness and Finding Freedom from Shame by Heather Davis Nelson, Crossway, 2016, 192 pages.

Shame: the feeling of "not good enough," acccording to our own standard or our perception of someone else's standard for us. It's what keeps us from being honest about our own struggles, sins, and less-than-perfect moments. Fear of shame drives us to perfectionism in all areas of our lives, so there would be no imperfection for others to notice and judge. (pp. 57-58)

The word "shame" conjures up many memories for me - all unpleasant:

- Wondering if God could possibly forgive me again after committing the same sin yet again.
- Being mocked for looking different or dressing out of style.
- Being scolded for normal human failings like forgetting something or not making the wisest choice.

But the ones that haunt me the most are where I have been the one doling out the shame, and I long to lay these feelings to rest once and for all. But where do I go for help and healing from the shame that seems to be so pervasive?

In Unashamed, Heather Nelson brings the gospel to bear on the shame which we all know far too well. She begins by first making the crucial distinction between guilt and shame. Guilt relates to what I have done. In the case of sin, the Holy Spirit convicts, and the resulting godly grief produces repentance. Our response should then be to cling to the promise that God is faithful and just to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness because Christ died for those sins. Amen? Amen!

But what about shame? Shame is more complex because it relates to who I am more than what I have done. Yes, it can arise from condemnation over sin that has been confessed and repented of, but often I experience shame because the fall has taken its toll. In this case, "brokenness" is very apt and not just a politically correct way to avoid the word "sin." I may forget. I may be socially awkward and physically clumsy. I can guarantee you that I will make mistakes. While I may not have necessarily broken God's moral law, I may be looked down upon and treat others likewise. The author addresses this rejection specifically in the areas of body shaming, social shaming, and the trap of performance/perfectionism. Yet the gospel still applies.

In the case of sin, Christ paid the penalty that we could not. In the case of shame, Christ lived the perfect life on our behalf thus securing our standing before a holy God. We are now loved and accepted for Christ's sake and united to Him no matter what others may think of us or what we may think of ourselves. This may be easier said than done, which is why Nelson emphasizes the necessity of Christian community for healing from shame. We can't do this alone. We need one another to be listening ears as we confess the shame we feel. We need patient friends who will support us as we learn to walk in freedom rather than fear. We need those who will speak the truth in love as we unlearn the lies of shame. She also discusses how the foundation of the gospel enables us to fight shame in our marriages, families, and the local church.

On a personal note, Unashamed was very timely for me as I have had recent conversations with family members about shame, specifically shame-based parenting. My guess is that ever since the fall, parenting has not been shame-free. Rather shame has been the modus operandi from generation to generation, and I've been cut to the heart that I have done my part in perpetuating the cycle. But this book has encouraged me that the way forward isn't trying to gear up my performance, but to confess, repent, and believe that the gospel is sufficient even for me. I am also encouraged that the cycle of shame is not a given and can be broken.

I highly recommend Unashamed.

We do not live for the approval or condemnation of others, but our audience is God himself - the one who calls us his beloved because of Jesus. Therefore, we move out freely into relationships without fearing or needing others' accolades or judgment. We practice our freedom at every turn - refusing to live according to shame's lies and awakening our souls to truth that sets us free.  (pg. 174)

Purchase Unashamed from Westminster Bookstore (affiliate link) and Amazon.

Two ways

Last Friday on my way to a women's retreat I drove through a small town and passed two young men standing on a street corner, each man holding a placard with a Bible verse written across. I don't recall the exact Scripture references but one sign referenced the sure destiny awaiting the wicked, the other the righteous.

Two placards, two ways, two destinies. This sort of polarity is throughout the Bible. In Matthew 7:13-14, Jesus warns of two gates:

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Later in that same chapter Jesus tells the parable of the two houses:

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it. (Matt. 7:24-27)

In John 15:4-6, we see the contrast of the two kinds of branches:

Abide in me and I in you. As the branch cannot bear bruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine you are the branches. Who ever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gather, thrown in the fire, and burned.

This same polarity is evident in the Old Testament as well. Psalm 1, for instance, contrasts the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked. After describing the blessedness of the man who delights in the law of the Lord and who meditates on it day and night, the psalmist compares the righteous to a tree planted by streams of water and the wicked to chaff blowing in the wind. Finally, he concludes,

the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish (Ps. 1:6)

Two ways to live, two destinies. Like the signs the two young men were holding on the street corner, there is the way of the righteous and there is the way of the wicked. There is no middle road. There are true disciples and untrue disciples. There is the true vine and there are fruitless branches, the wide gate and the narrow gate. The house on the sand and the house on the rock. The tree and the chaff.

Which are you? Which am I?

If I'm honest, I have to admit I like this sort of dichotomy when we speak of others. But when it comes to me and my own self-examination and I am forced to think soberly about whether or not I abide in Christ and bear fruit vine like the vine of John 15 or if I delight in the Word of God and meditate on it day and night as does the righteous of Psalm 1, I have to confess that sometimes I do, maybe, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I do just as Psalm 1 warns: I walk in the way of the wicked and maybe I even sit in the seat of scoffers.

What then? How do I reconcile my compromise with the demands of true discipleship?

The answer is, always, Jesus. He is all my righteousness. He completely and perfectly fulfilled all obligations of life and godliness and He bore the wrath of God for sin in my place. Because He died and rose again, He took my sin and I get His righteousness. The true blessedness (Ps. 1:1) that marks the true believer is this unmerited favor, the amazing grace, of God. There is therefore no condemnation for those of us in Christ Jesus!

So to abide, then, as a true disciple doesn't mean I follow Him perfectly but rather faithfully. It means I persevere and in my perseverance I fail but I confess and I repent and I seek and I follow, again and again and again and again, in the strength and sufficiency of the Spirit. This is the way of the righteous and it ends with glory.

The warnings to the wicked are real and true. If you do not know Christ, please, heed them. Turn to the Lord, acknowledging your sin and your rebellion against Him, believe His promise to save you and forgive you and give you life in Him, and you will be saved. You will be righteous and the sure hope of glory with Him is yours forever.

When Christians Disagree

Growing up, I was very compliant for the most part. I did not make waves, and I did not ask questions, unlike Question Quigley. It may have been part of my ethnic culture or just my personality, but I never doubted what I was taught, whether it was in the classroom or from the pulpit. It also made life easier. In school, I was a model student who dutifully regurgitated the material for the sake of the grade. (Whether that was really learning is another matter.) In the church, I was a model sheep who went along with the rest of the herd, so there were no awkward conversations over doctrinal disagreements.

But the time came when I had to ask some hard questions. Circumstances forced me to examine what I believed and why I believed it, and my belief system was found wanting. This resulted in a shift from my previous theological position, and for the first time in my life, I found myself at odds with other believers.

This was extremely uncomfortable. I was so used to accepting pretty much everything from any authority figure in my life that it almost felt like treason to disagree with people who I had looked to as spiritual mentors. But like Martin Luther, my conscience was bound by the Word of God, so several awkward and difficult conversations followed. Some of my friends were glad I had not abandoned the faith and was part of a local church even with the differences in doctrine. But for others, the disagreements were deal-breakers. Fellowship was broken, and this hurt.

This led me to wonder, is it possible to disagree and still be in fellowship?

Well, I learned this is possible through the church I began attending. One of the first Sunday school topics was eschatology. I was only familiar with one view come to find out there were four?! And each view was represented in this little church?! How could this be? The teacher was upfront about his personal conviction, but his goal was not to sway us to his side. He took great pains to use primary sources and let each position speak for itself. We were encouraged to examine the views in the light of Scripture, but our teacher would not tell us what to believe, which was a huge eyeopener for me. There was spirited discussion between the opposing views, but when class was over, we were still one, just not necessarily in our eschatology. Even a few weeks ago, after a lively debate about the meaning of a verse in 1 Peter 3, our Sunday school teacher mentioned that we were going to celebrate the Lord's supper in the service to follow. He encouraged us to remember that our unity isn't based on the translation of a particular Greek word, but in the Gospel and what Christ has done on our behalf.

I need to take the example of these brothers to heart. They encouraged give-and-take and acknowledged differences in interpretation, but they did not lose sight of the source of our oneness. I am more than likely to jump into the fray, make waves, and ask questions than in former days. There are doctrines and issues that I hold dear, so it is tempting to look for oneness in agreement on these specifics. But I need to remember that unity with fellow believers flows first and foremost from our union with Christ. A day is coming when all will be made clear, and there will be no disagreements. But until then and even amidst the healthy process of iron sharpening iron, I want to hold fast to the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

In essentials unity, in nonessentials liberty, in all things charity. - Rupertus Meldenius

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. Eph. 4:1-5

Update: For further reading - Polemic Theology: How to Deal with Those Who Differ from Us by Roger Nicole

Love God & Love Others - Part I

My first quarter of reading well is coming to a close. As it does, I find myself wondering why it never occurred to me to read in this manner before. I can't tell you the benefits I have reaped by slow, concentrated reading on a chosen topic and including my Bible study in the plan. I've been able to make connections between my reading and Scripture, and learned more than I thought possible. I'm still working out some kinks, but overall this method of reading has proven to be a great success.

For the past three months, I've been reading about loving others and gospel living. I've come to the conclusion that it all comes down to this:

Jesus himself tells us the same in Matthew 22:36-40: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment.And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets."

Too simplistic? Not really. While the thought is simple, the practice is anything but easy. Over and over again these past months, I've seen that loving others well requires that we first love God. But, to summarize D.A. Carson, the hardest place to love God is in our hearts. He writes,

Here is our first duty, our fundamental privilege, our basic worship: to love God with heart and soul and mind and strength, and our neighbor as ourselves. In the midst of suffering, persecution, disability, disappointment, infirmity, tiredness, duty, discipline, work, witness, discernment - in short, in the midst of everything - that love remains our first duty, our fundamental privilege, our basic worship still. When we grown old and calamitously weak, we must love God still; when we look after the chronically ill and think that our horizons are shriveling up, we must love God still; when we are bereaved, we must love God still; when we study and work and build and witness, we must love God still; when we exercise theological discernment, we must love God still.

As I've been reading 1 John, I can't help but feeling that it's been an exposition of Matthew 22:26-40. John demonstrates that the strands of loving God and loving others must be carefully woven together in order to create a faith that is evident to the world. He repeatedly calls his audience to examine their love of God - their theology - and their love for others. The two are inextricably linked.

Again from Carson:

So far as the greatest command is concerned, we are not simply to love, to love in the abstract, but to love God. Nor does this mean that we are to love any god or the god of our choosing, but the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. To love this God means, among many other things, that we will be hungry to get to know him better; conversely, in learning his words and ways, his attributes and glory, what he loves and what he hates, we will find that our understanding of what it means to love God, what it means to love enemies, what it means to love brothers and sisters in Christ, will all be progressively modified and enriched...we will be firmly led to think robustly about what he is like, how he views evil, what rights and responsibilities he gives to the state in a fallen world, his role both in making peace and in judgment, and, above all, his commitment to own glory as God. (author's emphasis)

We cannot love God unless we rightly know him. John encourages us not only that the Gospel is true, but that we must stick to the true Gospel by abiding in it so that we will be equipped to discern theological error. As Richard Yarbrough states, John "writes to commend a higher road: liberation from the compulsion to believe, behave, and love in ways that fall short of God's glorious and transforming light. he writes to commend a full, satisfying and efficacious knowledge of God." (source)

Part of that transformed behavior is loving others Biblically. More on that next time...

Confessions of a World-Lover

Now, therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts: consider your ways. You have sown much and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes...You looked for much, and behold it came to little. And when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why? declares the Lord of hosts. Because of my house that lies in ruins,
while each of you busies himself with his own house.

~Haggai 1:5-6, 9

 Haggai's words pierce my heart as I think of the toiling and spinning I've done in this life. I have pursued the American dream and come up wanting. I've known the emptiness of too many possessions and too much debt, of being overwhelmed yet still not having enough. I have stored up my treasures on earth. I have tried to live my best life now.

I have loved the world and paid the price.

There are many pitfalls to loving the world. Puritan William Greenhill outlines them thoughtfully in a sermon later published as the book, Stop Loving the World. His argument that most convicted me is that loving the world is unreasonable. Loving the world "will direct you to things that are merely probable and make you leave things that are certain." Greenhill directs us to Haggai 1, where "the Lord asks his hearers to consider whether their prosperity, such as it is, brings about the intended satisfaction" (source). The Israelites were so busy pursuing their own gain that they ignored the Lord's house. It's easy enough to look at the prosperity gospel that's so rampant today and point fingers, but I am also guilty. How many times have I overlooked the church - both the building and the people - in favor of my own pleasures? The trappings of this world are uncertain. As Greenhill states, "The promises of the world and the devil are seldom made good." We don't have to look any further than Genesis 3 to know he is right. As believers, we have full assurance that God's promises are certain. Psalm 18:30 tells us, This God—his way is perfect; the word of the LORD proves true; he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.

Greenhill also cautions that even if "we do get the world with our endeavors, we cannot keep it without fear of losing it."  Again, he points to Scripture, Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? for riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away as an eagle toward heaven. (Proverbs 23:5, KJV). Hebrews 12:28 tells us we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken. It is secure. Greenhill points out, "if we get grace, that will continue with us. If we get peace and joy, none can take them from us. If we get an interest in Christ, none can pluck us out of His hand."

Finally, Greenhill explains that "Loving the world directs us toward the worst things. There is excellency in grace; there is excellency in the knowledge of Christ. To let these things go and choose the others is unreasonable." 

Although I have been guilty of treasuring the material, it is more often the non-material that my sinful heart craves. As Jay Collier writes in the Preface of Stop Loving the World,

We cherish the good opinion of others, desiring honor among men. And we love to be in control, influencing the way things happen in this world and having our will be done. Each of these things has its proper place, yet we so easily expect them to be our source of joy.

 D.A. Carson posits that our hearts and lives are the hardest place to love God (source). To fight against our natural tendencies "demands of every believer who can read...devoted, reverent, disciplined reading and rereading of the Word of God, a reading discharged with an attitude of eager attentiveness."

Could it be that the key to loving the world less and loving God more is to adjust the attention I give to each? Pouring over the Word with more intensity than I pour over social media. Being more eager to read my Bible than my library book. Giving more thought to the Scripture than what someone said to hurt my feelings. Looking at the life of Christ as intently as I judge the lives of those around me. And most importantly, point others to Christ instead of the rotting decay of this world. Greenhill states, "when we relish and savor the world in our conversations, this shows we are glued to the world and love it." My love for the world must be glaringly evident to those around me.

Greenhill is absolutely right. It is unreasonable to exchange the glories of God for the trappings of this world. Yet I have done so, over and over again. In typical Puritan bluntness, Greenhill offers directions to stop loving the world: mortify your lusts, look on Christ, submit to God's will, and a few others. Armed with these remedies and with the grace of God, I hope to break off my love affair with the world.

Sanctification in the Walmart Line

It's clear from the Scriptures that sinless perfection is impossible in this life. (1 John 1:8-10, 2:1-2) We will battle indwelling sin until we die or Jesus returns, which is why Christians need the gospel just as much as those who have yet to enter the Kingdom of God. But what about mistakes? What about those silly, careless things that crop up now and then?

Life would be easier if I would always get it right. Life would be even easier if everyone else would get it right, too. For example, can you imagine how this would transform shopping at Walmart? What would it be like if there were always enough cashiers? And cashiers who were efficient? What if everyone counted their purchases so no one had too many items in the express lane? Think of how pleasant that experience would be. But I will not always get it right no matter how hard I try and neither will you or the folks at Walmart.

The fall has taken its toll, and no one is exempt. My physical body has failed me at times where I've dropped dishes due to butter fingers. My mind has gotten distracted so I've lost count when measuring an ingredient for a recipe. Although breaking a glass and miscounting cups of flour are not sins in themselves, what has been my response? What attitude comes to the surface when I'm at Walmart with 20 other people waiting for a single cashier when there are six vacant registers?

There have been times when these irritations didn't bother me, praise God, but my responses have not always been sinless. I've been impatient with others and unkind thoughts have flitted across my mind even though I kept my mouth shut. I've been frustrated when I didn't live up to my high expectations of myself. This is sobering especially when I consider what sort of person I may be in 10 or 20 years. As the saying goes, practice makes perfect, and these little instances of pride and impatience can add up to create quite a curmudgeonly woman. But it doesn't have to be this way.

"For this is the will of God, your sanctification." (1 Thes. 4:3) I can rest in this truth and the fact that the Holy Spirit hasn't stopped convicting me of sin and granting me repentance. I do not have to finish the race on my own or in my own strength. And I have hope knowing that He will renew me, turning potential irritations into sanctification lessons. Occasions for impatience and pride can be transformed into opportunities to grow in kindness and humility. Even at the checkout line at Walmart.

Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience Col. 3:12

Confessions of a Cymbal-Clanger

"I am deeply persuaded that the foundation for people-transforming ministry is not sound theology; it is love."  At first I wanted to close the book. The club-wielding Pharisee inside of me was quick to decry Paul Tripp's words.

One of the benefits of reading well this year is time to think on what I'm reading, to wrestle it out. And I have wrestled hard with Tripp's premise. Uncomfortably so. After all,  I've read, taken notes, studied long, written much and talked much about theology. Shouldn't theology be the basis for all we do? Tripp points to 1 Corinthians 13:1-2:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains,but have not love, I am nothing.

Notice that the Apostle Paul doesn't deny the importance of prophetic powers, understanding, knowledge, and faith, but he goes on to say that they will pass away (1 Cor. 13:8). Wisdom, discernment, and faith are critical components of our lives as believers, but they are useless without love.

So I've continued to ponder Tripp's claim and how to offer hope to those around me who are hurting. And I've wrestled with another of his statements:  

The hope of every sinner does not rest in theological answers but in the love of Christ for his own...This love is not a band-aid attempting to cope with a cancerous world. It is effective and persevering...It faces the facts of who we are and how we need to change and simply goes to work.

I remember the ministry of Amy Carmichael, the lives changed because she loved Christ and He loved others through her. She preached the Gospel to them, but she loved them first. I consider the words of Martin Luther, "This should be the sign by which they should know whether they are true Christians or not...He makes him humble, gentle, and ready to help his neighbor in any need." (source) The great theologian knew that love, not theology, was the fruit of the Spirit.

I've realized that having a solid biblical theology is absolutely necessary. But I've also realized that offering a dose of good theology to someone in pain can be like offering a starving woman a lift to the grocery store. I may have shown her what will fix the problem, but I haven't helped her fix it.  I haven't loved. Oh! that I would learn the value of shutting my mouth and loving! Job's friends sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great. (Job 2:13) Once they started speaking, they became clanging cymbals. I see myself in their words - fumbling for answers, giving terrible advice, pushing my ideas, drowning out the message of grace while I clanged on and on.

Several months ago I stood beside my closest friend as she mourned the loss of her father. Ten days later, I stood beside her again as we watched the medical examiner take both of her husband's parents. The depths of grief and despair were unimaginable to me. I wanted to offer comfort, make sense of the senseless, give her some deep theological truth to carry her through. It was God's grace that I was completely unable. He kept me silent, as Job's friends were. I held her, I prayed for her, I cared for her children. I watched her church family do the same. Words would have sounded as clanging cymbals, loud and discordant. They needed people to silently sit alongside them in the mud of suffering. They needed love.

Theology and a right understanding of God is essential to live the Christian life in a fallen world. Persis recently challenged us: "So please don't be afraid of theology. Please don't be afraid to open the Bible and stretch your understanding." I couldn't agree more. As I learn more, I trust more. I gain more peace in the chaos of this temporary home. I live more wisely and bring more glory to Him. My friend Becky said it well,

Studying big books about the Bible like commentaries, systematic theology, and other very important titles like The Institutes of Calvin, etc. is absolutely important; but we should never forget that the ultimate goal of knowing more is to love more. Love God more, love our neighbor more, love our family more, love the Word more, love to meditate on the Word more.

 It's time to lay my cymbal down.

When they come to take my car keys away

Curmudgeon: a person (especially an old man) who is easily annoyed or angered and who often complains. 

If you are familiar with Twitter, one of my favorite accounts is the Church Curmudgeon.  He is the quintessential grumpy old man, able to blend wit and complaint in 140 characters or less. As a parody, the Church Curmudgeon is very funny, but if this was real life? I think the humor would be quickly lost.

As I contemplate growing older, I often wonder, what will I be like in 20 or 30 years should the Lord tarry and He allows me to live that long? How will I respond to changes down the road? When they come to take my car keys away? When I have to turn my checkbook over to my daughter because I forget to pay the bills? When I can no longer live on my own? These are ordinary activities that I've taken for granted for decades, but when they are gone, I suspect it will hit hard. "I used to be able to do XYZ, and now it seems I can only sit and do nothing.", would be a natural response. It would also be very natural to take out my frustration at my lot on those around me, but is this inevitable as well? Am I destined to become a curmudgeoness? I don't think it has to be that way.

Now I want to be clear that sanctification is the work of the Holy Spirit in the life of the believer. I am not implying that aging well is something I must do to earn or keep my standing before God. I am accepted on the basis of Jesus Christ's substitutionary death for my sins and imputed righteousness alone. But as the Holy Spirit works, I believe He is able to change me and my desires. Even the desire to honor the Lord in the face of old age is His doing. So having said all that, here are three truths to gird my mind:

Remember who God is - I am changeable. God is unchanging. I do not know the future. He knows all things. I am weak. He is almighty. I am dependent on Him for every breath and heart beat. He holds all things together by the Word of His power. Nothing can thwart His purposes from being fulfilled, and my times are in His hands.

Remember where my identity lies - God has equipped His children with different strengths and abilities, but I cannot forget where my true identity lies. My being is not ultimately found in what I do or the gifts God has given. My being is found in who God has declared me to be - His image bearer, a redeemed sinner who has been made His child by grace. I may lose my skills. I may be less competent as time goes on, but I can never lose my identity in Christ.

Remember my final destination - We are on this side of eternity and reaping the effects of the fall, but it won't be like this forever. The new heaven and new earth are coming, and we will be forever with the Lord.

I don't think aging will be easy. Life hasn't been easy to this point. But God hasn't left me to finish my days on my own. The truth of who He is, what He has done, and the final consummation of His purpose lifts my eyes away from my finite existence to see the bigger picture. I believe the truth of the gospel has the power to change everything - right now and even when they come to take my car keys away.

Using the Sword as a Club

Just two weeks into my 2016 reading plan and I'm already reaping the benefit of reading less and thinking more. The slower pace gives me space to tie my reading together and apply it. Though beneficial, I can't say it's entirely fun. In fact, this extended pondering has led to conviction and brokeness.

The Lord has been using Amy Carmichael: Beauty For Ashes to reveal my pride and self-centeredness. He's also been showing me how often I focus on the trivial. For Amy, trying to rescue and minister to as many children as possible in India, "[t]hree things mattered: the verbal inspiration of Scripture, the power of God to deal with His enemy, and loyalty to one another." (p. 88) These were her requirements for those who would partner in ministry with her. She stood firm upon the Word and solid doctrine, but those were the only issues that divided her from others in ministry. When she parted ways with some co-laborers who did not believe in the total inerrancy of Scripture, she did so privately and remained quiet about it.

Of course, Amy Carmichael didn't have the technology of today. No world-wide audience at her fingertips. (Her books were published only because her mother championed them in Amy's native England.) No up-to-the second news feeds. She wasn't concerned with site hits or the number of people who liked her latest pithy tweet.  She was too busy working long, hard days for the sake of the Gospel and the broken children she had rescued from temple slavery and prostitution.

Amy Carmichael had an effective Biblical ministry, which Paul Tripp defines well:

...truly effective ministry of the Word must confront our self-focus and self-absorption at its roots, opening us up to the vastness of a God-defined, God-centered world. Unless this happens, we will use the promises, principles, and commands of the Word to serve the thing we really love: ourselves. This may be why many people read and hear God's Word regularly while their lives remain unchanged. Only when the rain of the Word penetrates the roots of the problem does lasting change occur.

(Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands, p. 24-25)

His words unwrap my sin and lay it bare before my blinded eyes. I have wielded the Word of God has a sword against the wrong enemy: the people around me. When I first came to Reformed theology nearly a decade ago, I jumped in feet first and then proceeded to stomp on those who didn't agree with me. Publicly, via social media. Privately, with friends. Alone, in my own thoughts. I have used the Word to serve myself, to make myself feel superior, to call attention to myself. I have been running for the prize of being right, instead of the true prize Paul exhorts us to pursue (1 Cor. 9:24-25).

I know I am not alone. There are weekly - sometimes daily - internet debates that bear out this truth. At times it seems as if believers are intent on throwing each other into the lion's den. We're not satisfied until we've caused a feeding frenzy.  I fear we've become defined by issues, rather than Scripture. Even if we're not the ones hurling the stones, we stand by like Saul and nod our approval (Acts 8:1).

The Lord has opened my eyes to the hurt inflicted by my misguided zeal. I've wounded others as well as myself, damaged my personal ministry and wept many bitter tears in recent years. Thankfully the Lord's grace is greater than my sin and is powerful enough to soften even this hardest of hearts.

As I continue to think about Gospel living and loving others, I find great encouragement from Amy Carmichael: "Let nothing be said about anyone unless it passes through the three sieves: Is it true? kind? necessary?" (p. 58). These are three questions worth asking before I speak, write or think about someone, or to them.

Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

-Colossians 3:12-17

A prayer for the New Year

A prayer for the New Year, from The Valley of Vision...

O LOVE BEYOND COMPARE, 

Thou are good when thou givest,
when thou takest away,
when the sun shines upon me,
when night gathers over me. 

Thou has loved me before the foundation of the world,
and in love didst redeem my soul; 

Thou dost love me still,
in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust. 

Thy goodness has been with me during another year,
leading me through a twisting wilderness,
in retreat helping me to advance,
when beaten back making sure headway. 

Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead; 

I hoist sail and draw up anchor,
with thee as the blessed Pilot of my future as of my past. 

I bless thee that thou has veiled my eyes to the waters ahead. 

If thou has appointed storms of tribulation,
thou wilt be with me in them; 

If I have to pass through tempests of persecution and temptation,
I shall not drown; 

If I am to die,
I shall see thy face the sooner; 

If a painful end is to be my lot,
grant me grace that my faith fail not; 

If I am to be cast aside from the service I love,
I can make no stipulation; 

Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial,
as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use.

Happy New Year, friends! We here at Out of the Ordinary are grateful for you, our readers, and for your continued support and ongoing conversation. May the Lord be glorified in 2016 and always!

 

Surprise and Joy

When the boys were little, they would wake in the wee hours of Christmas morning. Giggling with excited anticipation they would wait at the top of the stairs until my husband gave the all clear—meaning the lights had been turned on, the coffee pot set to brew, and the video camera poised at the ready—at which point they would descend in a great flurry of laughter and shoving and exclamation and hurry to the gifts and surprises that awaited.

It is not so any longer. Now Christmas morning finds my husband and I drinking cup after cup of coffee wondering when—or if—our young men will finally wake up. Instead of toys arranged in front of the fireplace there are wrapped gifts under the tree, gifts that have already been shaken and prodded and guessed at, gifts like clothes and shoes and books and video games, gifts expressly requested and expressly purchased. No real surprises here.

I miss the surprise and the anticipation and the frenzied fun of Christmas mornings long ago. Don’t get me wrong; it is indeed its own kind of joy to celebrate with grown children. Big joy. Good joy. Contented joy.

Ah, but who can forget the sheer unbridled delight of the two year old seeing his very own “Thinking Chair” (a la Blues Clues) in front of the tree on Christmas morning?

I miss it. There are so few surprises anymore. Just this week my friend and I discussed how gift giving has morphed into me giving you exactly what you ask for and vice versa. I understand the desire to give a gift that is wanted and appreciated but I tend to feel a little ridiculous. I mean, I could just buy my own gift and you yours and save ourselves the trouble of wrapping.

I know, I know. My Grinch-iness is showing.

It’s the thought that counts, of course it does. And as much of a Scrooge as I may be, I am happy to help potential gift givers with lists and links.

This past Wednesday at church we discussed the Incarnation, the mysterious surprise of God becoming man. Letting our imaginations take flight we pondered such questions as Jesus learning to walk and talk. Did He get in trouble at school? What about potty training? Can you imagine raising a sinless child? Or being His younger brother?

The Bible tells us that Jesus was ordinary enough that when He began His ministry in His hometown the residents were amazed. “Where did this man get this wisdom? Isn’t he the carpenter’s son?” They were astonished. They had no clue. (Matt. 13:53-57) They had seen Him, they knew Him, but yet they hadn't and they didn't. 

Here is the great astonishment, the great delight, the cosmic surprise of Christmas: the Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14) The heart of the Christmas story is the astounding truth of the gospel: we need saving and God came to save us.

What mystery is this, God as man. What surprise, that God would condescend to empty Himself, take the form of a servant, and be born in the likeness of man. And what joy! Forgiveness, redemption, mercy, grace, all ours because of Jesus, because of Christmas.

And we who belong to Christ know the hope of our real life beyond this one, that fullness of joy in the presence of our God forever. We too anticipate a glorious morning when the light will break forth like the dawn and our hope finally becomes reality. Imagine our surprise then!

My Christmas may lack some of the frenetic fun we’ve enjoyed in years past. For some of you Christmas brings more grief than joy. I understand. But there is joy, good news of great joy—good news! great joy!—for unto us is born a Savior, Christ the Lord. Let us ponder Jesus this Christmas. Let us consider the mystery of the Incarnation. Let us wonder over the grace that goes to such measures to save to the uttermost. Let us be astonished and surprised by the joy of Christmas. 

Pondering Christmas

The reason one does not rejoice in the incarnation is for lack of holy meditation upon the subject, its miraculous nature, the promises, the Person, the fruits and this great salvation brought about by His suffering and death. What reason for rejoicing would he who does not attentively reflect upon this have?

- Wilhelmus à Brakel, as quoted by Joel Beeke

Why Christ Came: 31 Meditations on the Incarnation

We must both read and meditate upon the nativity.  If the meditation does not reach the heart, we shall sense no sweetness, nor shall we know what solace for humankind lies in this contemplation.  The heart will not laugh nor be merry.  As spray does not touch the deep, so mere meditation will not quiet the heart.  There is such richness and goodness in this nativity that if we should see and deeply understand, we should be dissolved in perpetual joy.

- Martin Luther, as quoted by Nancy Guthrie

Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus: Experiencing the Peace and Promise of Christmas

These words slay me. They convict me of what I should be should be doing this Advent season. Meditating upon the glory of the incarnation. Pondering these things in my heart, as Mary did. I may celebrate the babe in the manger, but I don't fully consider the impact of his coming.

This doesn't mean I shouldn't watch White Christmas and sappy Hallmark movies. Or shop for Christmas gifts and bake cookies. Or even set out the ceramic Santas my mom painted years ago. I can celebrate Christmas because Christ has set me free. But in the midst of Christmas carols, holiday specials, and halls sufficiently decked there is a miracle to be considered. Every day, Jesus rescues me from my pit of sin. Every single day. And that deserves more than a cursory glance of my Bible, a fleeting thought as I sing along with "O Holy Night", and a quick prayer as I light the Advent candles. I cannot fully meditate upon the nativity, as à Brakel and Luther intended, in one month or even a year.

Persis wrote, "We can meditate on the incarnation and have our minds blown away by the mystery of the hypostatic union in December as well as the rest of the year." Her words remind me that the miracle of Christmas isn't confined to a season. Nor should our celebration of it be. Long after the nativity sets are nestled away for another year, may we, like Ebenezer Scrooge, keep Christmas well.

To Christmas or not to Christmas - that is the question

I don't remember where I saw it on Facebook, but at the beginning of November, someone posted that Christians get a month off before we can start arguing again about whether or not we should celebrate Christmas. Funny but true, and I have been on both sides of this issue.

My family celebrated Christmas when I was young, but we stopped based on a change in my parents' convictions. Even though I missed getting the presents, I didn't feel deprived of what really mattered. I don't think my psyche has been permanently damaged either.

I did not celebrate Christmas for many years as an adult because it was very natural to adopt my parents' view. But there were other reasons for non-celebration. During an especially rough time, the thought of pasting on a happy holiday face so I wouldn't be a downer was more than I could bear. It would have been the height of hypocrisy given the current circumstances. But time has passed, and I have changed. Now my daughter and I have our own rather low-key Christmas celebration.

I'm not suggesting we abstain from civil discourse about the pros and cons of celebrating Christmas. Dialogue about differing ideas can be profitable. But there is more to being a Christian than what we do or don't do on December 25.

In the fullness of time, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. (Gal. 4:4-5) 

We can rejoice that the Seed of the woman came and crushed the head of the serpent even if we don't agree on the month Jesus was born. We can meditate on the incarnation and have our minds blown away by the mystery of the hypostatic union in December as well as the rest of the year. We can be thankful that God has saved us from every tribe, tongue, and nation which includes those who celebrate Christmas and those who don't.

The good new of Jesus Christ far outweighs what we may disagree on regarding a single day of the year. May we hold fast to the gospel, our unity in Christ, and the blessing of Christian liberty. May we give thanks to the Lord for all His wondrous deeds. And we can do this no matter what we do or don't do on December 25.