The Christian and Common Grace

Excuse me, ma'am.

I didn't realize he was talking to me. I kept walking. Someone coming toward me directed my attention to the gentleman calling after me.

You left this. He held out a bag of groceries to me. In my haste to leave the store, I'd left it at the self-checkout station. A quick glance told me he most likely needed the food more than I.

There are still good people in the world, I thought.

Whether it's airline passengers subduing someone rushing the cockpit or someone handing us an item we forgot, sometimes it's easy to forget that people - even Christians - are not inherently good. Perhaps we are so bombarded with the bad news in our fallen world that long to see the good in people. We forget, as Steven J. Lawson writes, there is

...the ongoing ministry of the Holy Spirit, who strives with unconverted men in order to restrain them from being as sinful as their immoral imaginations would lead them to be. This is a general restraint upon their lives, impeding them from being fully engrossed in their sins. (The Problem of Good: When the World Seems Fine Without God, p.5).

I had heard of common grace, but did not have a good understanding of it until reading this primer on the topic. It was a much-needed reminder for me that we are all sinful creatures. If we don't accept this truth, if we only see the good in people, how will we be compelled to share the gospel with them? And how will people who live good, moral lives or have an abundance of blessings see their need for a savior? These question deserve much thought, and The Problem of Good explores them carefully and answers them wisely.

As much as I may, at times, be quick to think that people are basically good, I confess that there is another side of common grace that confounds me. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust (Matthew 5:45). I confess that there are days when I wonder at this verse. I see its truth evident all around me, and I'm frustrated by it. Why should Christians suffer while those who deny God's existence reap benefits seemingly beyond compare? What about having our best life, of being blessed if we do and give enough? They are hollow promises that fall woefully short of the Scriptural truth that in the world you will have tribulation (John 16:33).

Perhaps unbelievers living the American dream don't desire God  because Christians so often despair the way of the cross. Why would they choose the lot we bemoan? In The Problem of Good, Ruth Naomi Floyd quotes Charles Spurgeon,

I tell you again, if there be any pathway in which there be not fire, tremble, but if your lot be hard, thank God for it. If your sufferings be great, bless the Lord for them, and if the difficulties in your pathway be many, surmount them by faith, but let them not cast you down (p. 82).

Modern Christians seem to have strayed so far from those before us who, like Spurgeon and Samuel Rutherford, held firm to the belief that...it is better to be sick, providing Christ come to the bed-side, and draw aside the curtains, and say 'Courage, I am thy salvation,' than to enjoy health, being lusty and strong, and never to be visited of God. (source). In our estimation suffering should belong to other people, not to those who spend their lives serving God.

I wonder, what would happen if we blessed the Lord for our sufferings? What if, instead of begrudging others their good fortune, we fully grasped and accepted that, as John Leonard writes, ...instead of questioning God's fairness we should be praising him for his goodness...the goodness that we see all around us in the daily acts of men should lead us to worship God because it proves that he is good (The Problem of Good, p. 56-57)?

The truth is, as a believer in Christ, I should not be worried with fair. Regardless of what I consider my present sufferings to be, I have received much more than fair.

But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:4-6)

Temporal sufferings, like temporal blessings, are an opportunity to bring glory to God. If we who have Christ as our model don't believe that, a lost and dying world never will.

Solid Food for Little Ones

or A Short List of Theology Books for Preschoolers.

I’m interested in theology books for children for two reasons. First, I have preschool grandchildren and I want to be like Timothy’s grandmother Lois. I want to help pass on the faith to them.

Second, I’m the librarian for my church, so it’s my responsibility to see that the library has a well-rounded collection of Christian books for children. When I took over the library job, it was built around donated books, and the children’s section was long on fiction, short on Bible story books (because people hold on to those, I suppose), and completely empty when it came to anything that taught doctrine to children. So I’ve added a few Bible story and theology books, and any age-appropriate ones that impress me I order for my grandchildren, too.

Since many of you also have young children in your lives, I thought you might be able to use some recommendations for preschool books that teach good theology. Here’s my short list. (Please add your own recommendations in the comments.)

Big Thoughts For Little Thinkers: The Trinity

by Joey Allen. This is simple Biblical teaching on the Trinity without the use of analogies. (When it comes to the Trinity, analogies—shamrocks, eggs or ice, water, and steam, for instance—tend to confuse rather than clarify. There is nothing else like the Trinity.) For ages 4-6 or so. 

There’s a series of Big Thoughts for Little Thinkers books, including Big Thoughts For Little Thinkers: The Scripture and Big Thoughts for Little Thinkers: The Gospel. I’ve only seen the one on the Trinity, but since it's so excellent, I’d bet the others are good, too.

Update: In the comments below, the author links to another book in this series, Big Thoughts for Little Thinkers: The Mission. What's more, I've discovered that Westminster Bookstore sells all four Big Thoughts books as a set.

God Knows My Name

by Debby Anderson. This book teaches little ones aged 1-4 about God's omniscience—and a few more attributes, too. This one has been a favorite of my grandchildren, who love knowing that God sees them and knows everything about them, including their name.

I also recommend I Love My Bible! and Jesus Is Coming Back!, the two other Debby Anderson picture books in the church library.

Everything a Child Should Know About God

by Kenneth N. Taylor.  I received my copy in the mail yesterday and have already read through it. I wish I’d known about this little gem when my own children were little.

 “The purpose of this colourful book,” Ken Taylor wrote in the introduction, “is to teach young children about God.” Since some teaching on most of the Bible's major doctrines is included, I'd call this a pint-sized systematic theology. There are a only couple of places in 187 pages where I would have phrased things differently—and when it comes to book of theology, that much agreement is a rare thing.

I often give Bible story books as baby shower gifts, especially for second or later babies, but I’ve decided that as soon as my current supply of Bible story books runs out, I’ll be giving this book instead. It’d be perfect for a new baby’s 2-5 year old brothers or sisters.

[This book is not stocked by Amazon, and Westminster Bookstore (linked above) is sold out until May. I ordered from Book Depository, but it looks like they’re out of stock now, too.]

Are there any preschool theology books you would add to this list?

Let's be real

You can generally spot an old timer blogger by the title of her blog, her url, her twitter handle, or all three. Here's the key: none of them will contain her real name, certainly not her real first and last name. Hence "lisa_writes" on the Twitter and "lisa-writes" on my first blogspot address.

Back then anonymity was heralded as the blogging best practice. We were warned against, and in response we feared, that nebulous bad guy out there intent on nefarious action regarding our real name. And don't even think about posting pictures of your kids!

It's funny in hindsight, what with the explosion of mommy blogging whose single most identifying characteristic, at least in my unofficial and unscientific observation, is beautiful, professional quality photography of the children.

Which I love by the way. Though they hold up a standard I could never ever hope to aspire to, I do love cute kids in a great pic. Just so you know.

Some habits die hard though. I rarely if ever refer to my kids or even my husband by name on my blog. Not so much because I think you the reader want to do them harm but more because I respect their privacy and want them to be the arbiter of their online presence when and if they choose. Same deal over on Twitter. Two of my children have Twitter accounts but I always hesitate just a moment before I retweet or mention. Maybe I'm hearkening back to those overly cautious early days of blogging but, whatever the reason, I've decided to err on the side of too careful rather than too careless.

Speaking of old timers, any of you who blogged way-back-when remember the meme "I am more than my blog"? The point of the meme was, as is no doubt obvious, that not all of my life is represented on the blog. What you see is merely a sliver of my real life, which incidentally is only the sliver I allow you to see.

I think about that meme when I am tempted to make the following PSA: "Dear Twitter friends, what you see here is not the sum of what I think, believe, appreciate, or esteem." I leave you to determine my tone of voice. There may or may not be a certain level of snark involved. Shocking, I know. Just keepin' it real.

The blog posts and the Twitter feed and the Facebook timeline, while I strive to be as authentic as possible, they are not the sum of who I am. Neither are yours. The virtual life is the virtual life, important, perhaps, edifying, to be sure, fun, of course.

But it is not real life.

My real life has real people in it, a real family that is my privilege to love and serve. There's a real church too where I learn to worship the Lord in accountability and fellowship with other believers. There are real women I meet on Wednesdays at the pregnancy center with real problems that break my heart. They need the real gospel--and here's a news flash: my blog posts or Twitter updates, no matter how wise or witty or well written, will not give that to them. There are real women in the Bible study I teach, real women hungry to know the realness of the Word to infect their real lives with real power and real passion as they grow to know and love a real God.

I am not abandoning the virtual life, not at all. I both enjoy and learn from my online friendships and the interactions I find there. I am the better for the friendships I've made with women from around the world. How else but the Internet? Who else but our God?

What I am saying is this: let's not pursue the virtual at the expense of the real. Serve your online audience and serve them well but do not do so to the neglect of the real people that the Lord has placed in your immediate, real context. And let's remember we are all real people and, as such, more than our blogs, our feeds, and our timelines.

The Comparison Trap

In Monday's post, Melissa accurately described the stress of "keeping up with the Joneses." Based on the reader response, many of us could relate to the notion that we would be better Christian women if we did [fill in subject] or copied [fill in name]. Given the overabundance of information at our fingertips, it's no wonder that the pressure to do it all, do it well, and photograph it tastefully seems to have grown with the size of our bandwidth. The number of global Joneses has far exceeded the neighbors down the street.

But this comparison trap is a rather artful device that may ensnare us in a different way. On the one hand, we compare ourselves to others and feel inadequate because we don't measure up. But on the flip side, we may compare ourselves to others and look askance at those who don't measure up to us. 

For example, I started going gray when I crossed the half-century mark. I've chosen not to color my hair mainly because I don't want to spend the money or the time. But I've fallen into the comparison trap as soon as I attach a sense of moral superiority to my decision, as though a woman's vanity can be judged by whether or not she has kissed Miss Clairol™ goodbye.

This snare seems to spring into action over issues that are not as clear-cut in Scripture, areas of practice and preference rather than principle. So what should fall under the heading of Christian liberty often becomes a measuring stick with which we assess others. I remember when toting one's television to the curb was a sure sign of piety a few decades ago, and woe to those who did not follow suit. Sound familiar?

Now don't get me wrong. I firmly believe that our choices about time, money, leisure, and everything that affects us should be a direct result of Who we belong to. But sometimes we forget that we are in various stages of sanctification. Our struggles with sin aren't identical. You may be strong where I am weak and vice versa. The Holy Spirit may be focusing His lens on an area in your life that is different from mine. The means may be different and the day-to-day outworking as well. But this is His work. Not mine. Not yours. It's His prerogative to prune and produce fruit as He pleases for which none of us can take the credit.

So when I fall into the comparison trap...
When I'm tempted to pat myself on the back and think others should do as I have done...
When I think I was wise enough to make a right decision or take even the tiniest step in the Christian walk on my own...

May I repent of my pride and remember these words:

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 1:26-31 (ESV)

The Gospel According to Pinterest

It seems I’m always one step away from being completely overwhelmed by social media. I’ve purged my Twitter and Instagram feeds and I’ve radically altered my Facebook settings. These changes have made social media more enjoyable for me. I can better process what I see. I don’t feel as if I’m dodging a barrage of words and images being hurled at me at lightning speed.

 Pinterest is another story.

When I first created my account, I thought Pinterest was a wonderful idea. All those recipes, craft projects, and tips conveniently saved for later perusal. But “later” hardly ever came, until last week. 500+ pins, all testifying to my insatiable need to be better.

  A better cook.

  A better decorator.

  A better homemaker.

  A better reader.

  A better student of the Bible.

Projects I will never tackle, recipes I will never cook, and homemade cleaning solutions I will never try - they all mocked me horrendously. Staring at all the amazing things other women are doing, I felt ashamed.

Ashamed that I’m not making my own lotion and keeping my husband from the numerous toxins lurking inside the store-bought bottle on our bathroom counter.

Ashamed that I’m not making everything from scratch and protecting my family from the myriad dangers of harmful pesticides and GMOs. Not to mention the money I could be saving.

Ashamed that I’m not making my own gifts or wrapping paper to show my friends how much I truly care about them.

 Ashamed that I’m not reading more books or participating in the latest revolutionary Bible study methods.

If I subscribe to the gospel according to my Pinterest feed, I will feel compelled to do these things in order to save myself and my family. I will, as Michael Horton writes in his book Ordinary: Sustainable Faith in a Radical, Restless World, be "driven by more a desire for self-justification and self-acclaim than by being secure in Christ enough to tend now to the actual needs of others." (36)

Paul's opening chapter in his letter to the church at Ephesus is a much-needed reminder of the basis for my justification.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ, just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love, having predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the Beloved.

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace which He made to abound toward us in all wisdom and prudence, having made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His good pleasure which He purposed in Himself that in the dispensation of the fullness of the times He might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth— in Him. In Him also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestined according to the purpose of Him who works all things according to the counsel of His will, that we who first trusted in Christ should be to the praise of His glory.

In Him you also trusted, after you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation; in whom also, having believed, you were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, to the praise of His glory.

(Eph. 1:3-14 NKJV, emphasis mine) 

My salvation does not rest on whether I feed my family a gluten-free, paleo, vegan, organic diet.

My salvation is not found in making my own laundry and dishwasher detergent.

My salvation is not earned by decking the halls of my home for every season.

Pinterest has given me some wonderful recipes and household tips that have blessed my family. Yet I must remember that my salvation is in Christ, and in Him alone. My salvation is not the result of my own efforts; it is because I was chosen in Him (v. 4) and accepted in Him (v. 6), because I have been redeemed in Him (v. 7) and have obtained an inheritance in Him (v. 11), because I have trusted in Him, and have been sealed with the Holy Spirit as a guarantee of that inheritance (vv.13-14).

Believers have comfort to live upon that the world knows nothing about. We have the comfort of God’s promises. And what do you think is best, to live upon earthly pleasures, or upon the promises of God? The earthly are yes and no, but the promises are yes and amen. The earthly are deceitful, but the promises are sure and faithful. The earthly feed the sense, but the promises fill the soul. He that lives upon the promises, lives by faith, and the life of faith is the only safe and true life in the world.

- Matthew Mead (source)

 I am in Christ. I have been given the right to live upon the promises of God rather than the hollow promises of the world. I have been set free from the gospel according to Pinterest.

Yes and amen.