Christ in the Commons

Today, a friend told of his recent visit to Amish country.  He discovered through various conversations with the locals that there is a general distress over the loss of the younger generation.  Their children are leaving.  And they’re asking themselves “why?”  What have we done?  How can we make amends? And, perhaps, at root, “Is what we’re doing valuable, i.e., worth saving?”

The answer, of course, depends on the agenda.  What exactly are the Amish doing?  All America would like to know.  I have the suspicion that many of them don’t exactly know.  Maybe they’ve got some vague idea of the value of community and relationships – things you cannot objectively measure or put on a spread sheet to determine their value.  And the irony is that while the Amish are at last losing their communities to modernity, post-modernity has become disillusioned with the its rootless lack of community. Empty-hearted America gazes longingly over its heaping armfuls of gadgets at the fertile Amish fields, dotted by community-constructed barns and homes, and wishes.  We wish we had their wisdom, their joy, their pace of life.  We wish we had the inter-dependence and even that we experienced the painstaking humanness of their earth-labors.  But not at the expense of our conveniences.

We want self-indulgent convenience as well as the joyful fruit of community.  But I suspect that the latter cannot have its deepest expression without the selfless investment of sacrifice.  Life only comes through dying.  The larger fruit of love in a community only comes from the smaller plantings of self-abnegation.  A relationship, like the soil, can only be cultivated when we choose to be “inconvenienced” by the digging.  And that means getting dirty.

And thus a community like that of Amish.

October 3rd, 2008 | Category: Agrarian meanderings | Leave a comment

As I’ve been re-reading Tolkien and reading about him (namely, Tom Shippey’s work), I’ve been struck with how his body of work grew out of nothing other than his pure delight and enjoyment as he engaged in his labors.  Sure, there were unsavory elements and lots of “sweat” that characterized much of bringing his writing into publishable form, but no matter how distasteful some of the process, it began and continued in joy.

I think Tolkien lived and practiced a version of Christ-humanity that many of us never even think about, but that Shcaeffer and Kuyper would have delighted in and our pre-Enlightenment fathers would have taken for granted.  He never separated his life into strata.  He never thought of his myth-making as “work.”  But of all his publications, it is certainly this particular body of literature that has born the most fruit and had the broadest and deepest influence upon both literature and society.  Whatever can be said of his more “scholarly” publications or of his labors in teaching, it was his myth-making that most comprehensively exercised and employed and exercised his gifts.  And it was a pleasure to him.  God is gracious this way.

I think Tolkien demonstrates in his own life what mankind in Christ, i.e., the redeemed Adamic humanity, is meant to be.  We are the restored image-bearers.  And when we look at pre-lapsarian Man, we see that he was a pro-creator, i.e., he was to create “alongside of” God.  It was Adam’s cultivating and keeping of the Garden in which he most “looked like” God.  He was to take God’s creation and beautifying it, and even gloryfying it.  This is part of what it means to be human, to be God’s image-bearer.  It is an excercise in spreading God’s dominion insofar as it is the spreading of His glory via His image.     Tolkien knew this about Man’s sub-creative urge, and he also knew that fulfilling this urge, i.e., simply being a human as God intended, is a pleasure.  Re: John Piper.

This shows two things, among others:  First, work is part of what it means to be human, properly speaking, and is therefore not part of the curse.  Second, even though sin and its ramifications have entered into the story of man so that his work is not as fruitful and satisfying as it might have been, joy is the foundation of all reality, not sorrow and destruction.  Perhaps Tolkien, who loved his work and who mourned the evil marring of man’s holy attempts at cultivation, was shaky in this latter point – at least emotionally speaking.

Work is part of what it means to be human.  God put man in the garden and said, “Cultivate and keep,” before sin came into the picture.  When sin came, God cursed the ground, which would more readily bear thorns than fruit.  Thus Man’s work (and life) would become arduous and painful and less productive (and therefore less satisfying) than it might have been.  But Christ wore a crown of thorns, thus bearing on his own brow the sweat, blood, pain, and woody spikes that were the curse of Adam.  Thus, Christ saved not only man’s soul, but man’s work and labor, too, on the cross.  It’s why Paul is able to conclude at the very end of 1 Corinthians 15, after a discussion about the resurrection of the true Man, “therefore, work…”  That is, the resurrection assures us that our labors will not be in vain no matter how ephemeral and short-lived they may seem, but that Christ will save us in the totality of our humanity so that everything that we put our hands to will be dragged through death into His resurrection.  Our whole beings, including everything we “put our back into” is redeemed.

And Christ’s resurrection also means joy, not pain, is the underlying reality of all we see and of all our labors.  Even though sin is with us, and death and sorrow and sweat, it does not have the first or final word.  In fact, life begins in pleasure and can be lived in thanksgiving in the very face of sin’s destruction precisely because it ends in joy.  God means for our work to be pleasurable to us.  He means for us to delight in it as redeemed human beings.  He gives us commandments and He makes our fulfilling them a joy.  He commands Adam to multiply and He makes the means of multiplying a pleasure.  He commands us to cultivate our lives (the corollary of the sixth commandment) and He has made the most forthright means to this, i.e., eating, pleasurable. The beginning of every work, every fulfillment of God’s commands, is a pleasure to us.  And though it involve arduous and even unsatisfying toil, its beginning and end teach us the nature of reality.  There is an elvish sort of light underneath all the shade.

September 30th, 2008 | Category: Politics, Uncategorized | Comments (2)

Be forewarned: After looking more closely through this book, I’ve discovered that there are many pictures of nude paintings and, unfortunately, even some nude photographs. I wish I’d known this before purchasing it. ‘Cause it was an expensive book.

Aside from the soft porn, this work is an impressive endeavor. Besides being edited by one of the most “nimble” contemporary minds, it is itself a beautiful book with the quality of pictures you find on a art geek’s coffee table. I look forward to meandering my way through it. I also picked up his more recent, On Ugliness, which despite the name, looks to be just as well-crafted.

I’m sure he’ll develop his argument persuasively, but already I’m finding my understanding of beauty conflicting with his as he lays out his premises. Eco distinguishes something that is “good” from something that is “beautiful” by pointing out that a good thing may be desired by us, but a beautiful thing can be enjoyed without necessarily possessing it. I agree with this as far as it goes. But I would want to say that there is something about a beautiful thing that we desire. It is not necessarily a desire to possess, but perhaps a desire to be made a part of it. This manifests itself in various ways. One way, I believe, is that it inspires in us a desire to create something beautiful ourselves – almost channeling the beauty that has inspired us and, therein, being identified with it. We do desire to possess beauty, just not as an addendum to be enjoyed, rather, we want to consume it, to drink it in, to become it somehow. It’s why we write poetry about sunsets – we see God’s created beauty and we are moved to sub-create/pro-create/create-alongside-of.

This said, I appreciate the potential of his argument for making a case for objective beauty, not limiting it to some “eye of the beholder” sense.

Thoughts?

September 19th, 2008 | Category: A Christian Aesthetic | Leave a comment

Space, the final frontier. Space, the first three dimensions. Space, elbow room for America’s school house rockers. Space is something to fill up. It’s empty, but it needs something in it. The idea of an empty space makes us feel lonely. It’s sort of frightening. Even thinking about the vast “emptiness” of outer space gives me the willies. We can hardly imagine there being nothing but planetary rocks and gigantic fireballs with vast amounts of nothing in between – especially when we look up at the stars and see a great conglomeration of lights. It’s even harder to imagine that all those giant candles exist with earth as their focal point – for light, seasons and signs to the inhabitants of earth. And when you think that they’re out there to, perhaps, lead the way in the Creator’s musical praise (Cf., Kepler), suddenly all that emptiness doesn’t seem so empty any more. Now you realize that it’s filled with the “music of the spheres.”

Music fills the air. The hills are alive with it. It fills what would otherwise be the vast emptiness of outer space. It may not be music we have ears for yet, but it’s there nonetheless. The shouts of God’s praise are from one end to the earth to the other. Of course, just because the stars “praise” their Maker (Psa. 148:3) doesn’t necessarily mean they’re singing. It could be that they are praising Him by doing what they are made to do – blazing forth amazing heat and light with power no human can comprehend. Either way, God gets praised. Either way, the vast emptiness of space is being filled up – perhaps with light, perhaps with song, perhaps with both, either way, with praise.

We know that at first, there wasn’t anything up there in all that emptiness. There was darkness and there was light. On the second day, there was firmament above and firmament below. Then, sea and land, with all its vegetation, waiting to house and nourish wildlife. Three days, three sets of spaces to be filled – six rooms in His house in which He would place the “furniture” of creation. Then, on the fourth, fifth, and sixth days, God went about filling up these rooms of His house (Isa. 66:1) with living things. I’m not sure we’d consider the sun, moon, and stars “living” really. But maybe our definition needs to be stretched a bit. Still, those are the created things of the fourth day that fill the vastness of that which was made on the first day. Then, He filled the two firmaments with beings that fly and swim. Finally, He filled the land with things that crawl and walk, including man. All of His “fillings” added to His praise so that His house was full of His praise and glory. He made a space, and then He filled it.

We make spaces, too. We “cultivate” spaces so that things which glorify God will have a place to grow. Adam cultivated the garden, ordering it so that it could bear fruit to God’s glory. This is what it meant for him to be God’s image-bearer. He created alongside God, or pro(with)-created. In essence, that continues to be what it means to be human. We make spaces to cultivate and fill.

September 9th, 2008 | Category: A Christian Aesthetic, Theologos | Leave a comment

Glory be to you, O Lord our God, who in our extreme need of a redeemer, made such gracious provision for our souls by sending your Son to die for our sins and to save us when we were lost. Blessed be your name, for he who offered himself upon the cross for us is pleased to offer himself to us at his table. There I have been tasting the fruits of his love and receiving my share among the redeemed of the Lord. O blessed be God for so great a mercy!

I bless you, my God, for your mercy in sending us a Savior. Without him, all other mercies would be of no avail and would do me no good. I bless you that you did not withhold your son, your only Son from us, but made him atone for our sins and become the life and food of our souls.

I sat down in his presence and it was a delight to me. I have been entertained at the table of the Lord who spread his love over me. It was love that gave me the Savior who I have been receiving and the opportunity to rest and feast my soul upon him.

Return to your rest, O my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. You received life at the hands of him who forgives all your sins and heals your diseases. He not only saves you from destruction but crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies. He fills your mouth with tender utterances, with pardon and peace, with the riches of his grace and the pledges of his glory.

Blessed be my God for the Bread which came down from heaven to give life to the world. Blessed be your name, O gracious Lord, for my share in this highest expression of your wonderful love and bounty.

Eternal thanks and praise be to you, O blessed God, my Savior, for all your glorious achievements in laying a sure foundation for our hope and everlasting comfort.

You have loved us and redeemed us and washed us from our sins in your own blood. O how infinitely indebted I am to your mercy that you should call me to such a heavenly state which you purchased and provided for us at so great a price!

O make me more aware of your love and more thankful for all its blessed effects. Let me now find the happy fruits of strength and refreshment for my soul. Let it be strength against all the temptations which would draw me away from you, and refreshment which would render all the pleasures of sin distasteful to me, and make it my primary joy to do the will of my heavenly Father.

After I have experienced the pleasures of my Father’s house, O do not let me feed upon what is useless. Let nothing destroy the sweet desire I have for heavnly things nor let the owrld come between me and the blessed Savior of the world.

Let me not depart from the Lord who has been so good and kind to my soul. O let me never rebel against my heavenly Sovereign to whom I once again have vowed allegiance.

O blessed Jesus, to whom shall I go? You have the words and the gift of eternal life. All is in your hands. You are the best of all lords for you rule us only that you may bless us. You have commanded us to obey your laws only that you may keep us from ruining ourselves. You secure for us the highest happiness.

I will admire and love and praise my Lord. I will believe and trust in his unfailing mercy. I will rejoice and glory in his great salvation. Who shall pluck me out of his hands? What shall separate me from his love? My beloved is mine and I am his. I am yours, O Lord, and yours I will be while I live.

Yet, Lord of all power and love, I beseech you to keep your servant from falling and preserve me during every occasion of danger. O do not allow me to destroy myself but pity my frailty and relieve my weakness and infirmity. In your hands let me be safe and never perish but attain everlasting life through Jesus Christ, my great Redeemer and only Savior. Amen.

[by Benjamin Jenks, from Prayers for Families]

September 7th, 2008 | Category: Prayers | Leave a comment

Sinner (Si): What black, what ugly crawling thing are you?

Spider (Sp): I am a spider.

Si: A spider, aye, also a filthy creature.

Sp: Nor filthy as yourself in name or feature.
My name entailed is to my creation,
My features from the God of your salvation.

Si: I am a man, and in God’s image made,
I have a soul shall neither die nor fade,
God has endowed me with human reason.
Speak not against me less you speak treason.
For if I am the image of my Maker,
Of slanders laid on me He is partaker.

Sp: I know you are a creature far above me,
Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee.
But though your God has made you such a creature,
Traitor to Him is your saddest feature.
Your sin has fetched you down at a great cost;
Nature you have defiled, God’s image lost.
Yea, you yourself a very beast have made,
And are become like grass, which soon does fade.
Your soul, your reason, yea, your spotless state,
Sin has subjected to the most dreadful fate.
But I retain my primitive condition,
I’ve all but what I lost by thy ambition.

Si: You venomed thing, I know not what to call thee,
The dregs of nature surely did befall thee,
You were made of the dross and scum of all,
Man hates you; does, in scorn, you spider call.

Sp: My venom’s good for something, ˜cause God made it,
Of human virtues, therefore, though I fear thee,
I will not, though I might, despise and jeer thee.
You say I am the very dregs of nature,
Your sin’s from Satan, not any creature.
You say man hates me ˜cause I am a spider,
Poor man, you at your God area derider;
My venom tends to my preservation,
You pleasing follies work out your damnation.
Poor man, I keep the rules of my creation,
Your sin has cast you headlong from your station.
I hurt no one willingly, unlike you,
Self-murder you commit as fools will do.
Evil, not in good, do you now revel,
Defy God and adhere to the devil.

Si: Ill-shaped creature, there’s no great big tie
˜Twixt man and spiders, ˜tis in vain to lie;
I hate thee, stand off, if you do come nigh me,
I’ll crush you with my foot; I do defy thee.

Sp: They are ill-shaped, who warped are by sin,
A strong dislike in you has long time been
To God; no marvel then if me, his creature,
You do defy, pretending name and feature.
But why stand off? My presence shall not throng thee,
˜Tis not my venom, but your sin does wrong thee.
Come, I will teach you wisdom, do but hear me.
I was made for your profit, do not fear me.
But if your God you will not hearken to,
What can the swallow, ant, or spider do?
Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected,
Sometimes great things by small means are effected.
Hark, then, though man is noble by creation,
He’s lapsed now to such degeneration,
Is so besotted and so careless grown,
As not to grieve though he has overthrown
Himself, and brought to bondage everything
Created, from the spider to the king.
This we poor sensitives to feel and see;
For subject to the curse you made us be.
Tread not upon me, neither from me go;
˜Tis man which has brought all the world to woe.
The law of my creation bids me teach thee;
I will not for your pride to God impeach thee.
I spin, I weave, and all to let you see,
Your best performances but cobwebs be.
Your glory now is brought to such an ebb,
It does not much excel the spider’s web;
My webs becoming snares and traps for flies,
Do set the wiles of hell before your eyes;
Their tangling nature is to let you see,
Your sins too of a tangling nature be.
My den, or hole, for that ˜tis bottomless,
Does of damnation show the lastingness.
My lying quiet the fly is catch’d,
Shows secretly hell has your ruin hatch’d.
In that I on her seize, when she is taken,
I show who gather whom God has forsaken.
The fly lies buzzing in my web to tell
You how the sinners roar and how in hell.
These mysteries exposed before your eyes,
How can you hate me, or still scandalize?

Si: Well, well; I no more will be a derider,
I did not look for such things from a spider.

Sp: Come, hold thy peace; what I have yet to say,
If heeded, may help you another day.
Since I an ugly venomous creature be,
There is some semblance ˜twixt vile man and me.
My wild and heedless runnings are like those
Whose ways to ruin do their souls expose.
Daylight is not my time, I work at night,
To show they are like me who hate the light.
The maid sweeps one web down, I make another,
To show how heedless ones convictions smother;
My web is no defence at all to me,
Nor will false hopes at judgment be to thee.

Si: O spider, I have heard you, and do wonder
A spider should thus lighten and thus thunder!

Sp: Do but hold still, and I will let you see
Yet in my ways more mysteries there be.
Shall not I do you good, if I you tell,
For, since I set my web in sundry places,
I show men go to hell in divers traces.
One I set in the window, that I might
Show some go down to hell with gospel light.
One I set in a corner, as you see,
To show how some in secret snared be.
Gross webs great store I set in darksome places,
To show how many sin with brazen faces;
Another web I set aloft on high,
To show there’s some professing men must die.
Thus in my ways God wisdom does conceal,
And by my ways that wisdom does reveal.
I hide myself when I for flies do wait,
So does the devil when he lays his bait;
If I do fear the losing of my prey,
I stir me, and more snares upon her lay:
This way and that her wings and legs I tie,
That, sure as she is caught, so she must die.
But if I see she’s like to get away,
Then with my venom I her journey stay.
All which my ways the devil imitates
To catch men, ˜cause he their salvation hates.

Si: O spider, you delight me with your skill!
I pray the spit this venom at me still.

Sp: I am a spider, yet I can possess
The palace of a king, where happiness
So much abounds. Nor when I do go thither,
Do they ask what, or whence I come, or whither
I make my hasty travels; no, not they;
They let me pass, and I go on my way.
I seize the palace, do with hands take hold
Of doors, of lock, or bolts; yea, I am bold,
When in, I clamber up unto the throne,
And to possess it, as if ˜twere my mine own.
Nor is there any law forbidding me
Here to abide, or in this palace be.
Yea, if I please, I do the highest stories
Ascend, there sit, and so behold the glories
Myself is compassed with, as if I were
One of the chiefest courtiers that be there.
Here lords and ladies do come round about me,
With grave demeanor, nor do any flout me
For this, my brave adventure, no, not they;
They come, they go, but leave me there to stay.
Now, my reproacher, I do by all this
Show how you may possess yourself of bliss:
You are worse than a spider, but take hold
On Christ the door, you shall not be controlled.
By Him do you the heavenly palace enter;
None will chide you for this your brave adventure;
Approach you then unto the very throne,
There speak your mind, fear not, the day’s your own;
Nor saint, nor angel, will stop you or stay,
But rather tumble blocks out of the way.
My venom stops not me; let not your vice
Stop you; possess yourself of paradise.
Go on, I say, although you be a sinner,
Learn to be bold in faith, of me a spinner.
This is the way the glories to possess,
And to enjoy what no man can express.
Sometimes I find the palace door unlocked,
And so my entrance thither has unblocked.
But am I daunted? No, I here and there
Do feel and search; so if I anywhere,
At any chink or crevice, find my way,
I crowd, I press for passage, make no stay.
And so through difficulty I attain
The palace; yea, the throne where princes reign.
I crowd sometimes, as if I’d burst in sunder;
And are you crushed with striving, do not wonder.
Some scarce get in, and yet indeed they enter;
Knock, for they nothing have, that nothing venture.
Nor will the King himself throw dirt on thee,
As you have cast reproaches upon me.
He will not hate you, O you foul backslider!
As you did me, because I am a spider.
Now, to conclude: since I such doctrine bring,
Slight me no more, call me not ugly thing.
God’s wisdom has unto the ant been given,
And spiders may teach men the way to heaven.

Si: Well, my good spider, I my errors see,
I was a fool for railing upon thee.
Thy nature, venom, and thy fearful hue,
Both show what sinners are, and what they do.
Your way and works do also darkly tell,
How some men go to heaven, and som to hell.
You are my monitor, I am a fool;
I have now learned that to spiders go to school.

[by John Bunyan: from Lessons From Nature: Poems for Boys and Girls]

September 6th, 2008 | Category: Child rearing, Poema | Leave a comment

Everything said here has been said before, and better than I can say it. But for the sake of our varied readership, I thought it might be nice to offer a different perspective on the sacraments, specifically the Lord’s Supper and how it relates to the Intercession of Christ and the intercessory prayers of the saints.

Brief bibliography: There are two authors that made some important points on this subject: Max Thurian, a French Huguenot, and Hugh Martin, a Scottish Presbyterian. Also, I had a mentor of sorts who has an unpublished book that looks to make a huge impact in this area. I’ve received almost all my understanding in this area from him. Thurian is out there, but he’s Reformed and he’s an adventuresome thinker. I appreciated his thoughts on anamnesis (memorial).

And now, to it: At the Supper, Christ says, “Do this as my memorial (anamnesis),” which, at first blush, makes us think of Zwingli and other memorialists. But that’s not the direction Thurian takes it. This issue is not Christ’s presence (or absence, if you’re a “memorialist”) in the Supper, but rather, in what ‘direction’ does the Supper point?

A Biblical memorial functions as a powerful, visual prayer to God. It has a Godward direction. When we talk about the sacraments, the whole conversation is in the context of their manward direction/emphasis and what benefit man derives from them. But if we consider the Godward direction of Biblical memorials, the ground of the conversation shifts from that of “what does this do for us?” to “what does this do to God?”

At first, this seems awkward, even questionable, unless we consider other Godward acts, like prayer. What does prayer do to God? Regardless of the answer, if we think it does anything at all (contra C.S. Lewis), then it still has a Godward direction, i.e., God actually hears our prayers. We’re not just praying to ourselves. And that’s the issue with the sacrament. It’s a New Covenant memorial. It’s a sign, but it’s not merely a sign to us. It’s a sign to God! It is a memorializing of Christ’s cross right in God’s face.

That being the case, we simply cannot imagine the effect this memorial has on God. He is moved by it to action. Consider Psalm 2:8. There, the risen Christ, haven accomplished the Intercession of Atonement, is told to ask of God for the nations as His inheritance. Thus, Christ’s intercession for the nations is based upon His meritorious death, i.e., the death which qualifies Him to ask God for the entire world – including every elect yet to hear the gospel. When we “declare Christ’s death” at the Lord’s supper, we are participating in the very intercession of Christ that we see here in Psalm 2. We are participating in the power of the cross to conquer the world for Jesus. We are memorializing that very death to which Christ Himself points when He asks God for the world as His inheritance.

Think for a moment about the Old covenant sign of the rainbow. Read that section and see the direction that sign takes. Although we see rainbows and they remind us of God’s promise to Noah, the Scripture says that the rainbow functions to remind God (not us) of His promise (Gen 9.14,15) . I believe all the covenant signs function this way (at least).

But why would God need reminding, since He’s omniscient and that includes a perfect memory? That’s a philosophical issue. It’s the same issue as prayer. It doesn’t really matter how we explain what is actually happening. The point is its Godward direction.

Consider also Exodus 28. In v9, two onyx stones had the names of the 12 trives of Israel engraven upon them and placed upon the priest’s shoulders. They served to “bear their names before Jehovah… for a memorial” (v12). And v29, these names of the tribes of Israel are upon Aaron’s heart as he goes before the Lord into the holy place. And they serve as a memorial before God.

Translate that to the New Testament: Christ is our high priest. He goes into the holy place before God. The memorial He bears is His scars. Among other things, metaphorically speaking, these scars are our own names written upon His hands. He holds his scars before God – visible reminders that He chose to keep which memorialize His atonement – and He asks God for that for which He died. Thus, His atonement IS intercession and His intercession IS the cross/atonement (Hugh Martin’s point).

I believe the Supper has this same memorial function. By it, we join in Christ’s own intercession by memorializing His atonement before God. “Do this as My memorial” and “proclaim Christ’s death till He comes” (I Cor 11:26, Paul on the Supper). To Whom do we proclaim Christ’s death by the Supper? To God. We proclaim Christ’s death to God.

Yes, we pray intercessory prayers. Yes, I think Christ prays verbal prayers on our behalf. Certainly His Spirit prays on our behalf in an extra-memorial fashion (Rom 8:26). Yes, the Supper as a sacrament is a “means of grace.” But it’s only a means of grace because it’s a memorial to God of Christ’s death. And, like I said, this shifts the ground of the conversation over the nature of the Supper. We get to keep what’s Reformed and we get to add some other good stuff, too. And we even attain some common ground on which we can talk with Zwinglian and Baptist memorialists (who still haven’t considered the Godward direction of the memorial, as if all that mattered were our individual, rationalistic reflections on Christ’s death – what matters is what GOD thinks about Christ’s death!)

So, there’s the short of it. Happy to hear any thoughts or offer any clarification.

September 5th, 2008 | Category: Theologos | Comments (2)

To all our interested readers, here’s the latest update on hurricane recovery.

Looks like most of our folks faired pretty well. We do have one family still without power, but they have a generator and have no real damage to their home. There’s another family, however, who has some major trees fallen all about their house. They will probably have the insurance/resources to recover quickly. Another family, however, has major water damage to their walls. They’ve just gotten power, but have learned the unfortunate news that, though they have been paying double on their insurance since Lily, their insurance no longer covers many of the things it once did and their deductible is now $7000, when before it was only $500. This is far beyond their financial means. Also, they no longer have coverage for the food they lost or maybe even the water damage! And, since they’ve been without air conditioning in the Louisiana heat, they now have the makings of a major mold problem. The son and the mother are both very sensitive to mold and are already struggling with sickness from it. Their insurance will almost certainly not pay for mold-remediation and, since this is an ongoing struggle in their older home, it is likely to get out of hand. So, for this family and for one other in our church, who is also having insurance-coverage problems, we want them to be able to rely upon financial assistance from the church.

If you are inclined to help with this, we’re happy for hands-on help. Or you can send financial help to Oaklawn Avenue Church, 1515 W. University Ave., Lafayette, LA 70506. Make checks payable to the church.

Any and all extra funds will be used by the church to help other families in the area who have needs and are trying to recover from the hurricane. (And from all appearances, it looks like more hurricanes are on the way).

Every blessing

September 4th, 2008 | Category: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Perhaps you’ve been keeping up with our nation’s pre-polls political haranque. During Fred Thompson’s speech at the RepNat’lConv, I was very affected by John McCain’s courage and perseverance during his military service, especially while a POW. Whatever other character flaws he may have, no one can deny his courage. Of course, that was the agenda of the speech, but agenda aside – and I’m certainly not one to pull a party line (as anyone who knows me knows well) – there’s no doubt that such genuine manliness is becoming less common in our panzified nation. With Ann Douglas, and as a pastor myself, I blame it on the pulpits. She approves. Of course, I don’t. That said, no one can remain unimpressed when they see a genuine picture of a man’s courage…. or a woman’s for that matter.

During the speech, the camera turned a few times to McCain’s ninety-six year old mother. She looks like she’s still in good health and strong. And if she’s anything like Thompson hinted at, who can wonder whether she’s the major source of her son’s character and courage? There are likely very few great men throughout human history who have been great apart from the shaping influence of their mothers. Sure, God can change a life. He can turn a misled childhood into a story of victory. He is the true source of character. And I would wager that the list of Christian men who have had astounding character and courage far outnumbers any list from among unbelievers. But God’s ordinary and consistent work is accomplished through the family. And when it comes to making boys into men, it seems His favorite instrument has been those boys’ mothers.

I think, first of the OT women, namely Sarah, Rachel and Bathsheba. As they claimed God’s covenant promises, what men they shaped! I think of the godliest and most blessed woman of all – Mary, mother of God. That God would commit His own eternal Son into the bosom of a woman to have His character shaped as He grew in stature, wisdom and favor with God and men is an astounding thought. And there’s no Man more courageous than He. And godly women have continued in Mary’s train. Besides Jesus and Paul, I think of the mother of that man who’s influence on our world is unparalleled – Augustine and his mother, Monica. He attributed God’s conversion of him to her prayers. Again, God loves the prayers of a woman who claims His covenant promises. The list goes on and on.

You know many of the women of the Faith. And, although I can’t claim to be a great man of history myself, I can certainly add my own mother to this list. Even though my father has always been an inspiring example of persevering courage in my eyes, it is also her words and en-courage-ment of me during some of my more challenging hours that have been so impressionable.

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How we fathers and mothers rear our boys in the covenant, humanly speaking, determines our future and the relative cultural impact that our Christian faith will have.

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One of our church members likes to say, “The boy is the father of the man.” I’ve heard him encourage many young boys with these words. And I’ve seen their eyes focused as they tried to comprehend these profound words. I’ve seen their consequent efforts to begin their practice of heroism on the baseball field – facing the dangers of a hard ball – as they began their attempts to become courageous men. And I can’t help but think that it was words like these and more that made McCain “man enough” to endure his own trials.

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And that brings me to some more particular thoughts, like, “just how do we instill characteristics like ‘courage’ in our boys?” What is courage? Does it mean having no fear? Perhaps the greatest men have so much courage that it overwhelms their feelings of fear so that they even forget their fear. Surely there are many men throughout history who have been truly “fearless.” But, reflecting on the Garden of Gethsemane, I’m not sure that Jesus falls into that category. Yet, he rose from His posture of prayerful dependence and tread the path to His cross with determined and unfaltering steps. It was His duty.

And courage is just this – heartily taking up your duty, undetered by very real and present fear, and inspite of consequent personal danger. We should all want to be like Jesus in this.

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There are many shaping influences in the lives of our young men. And most of those influences, I assert, are from the women in their lives. Of course, I’m not downplaying the importance of male role models and fatherly input. I’m just not overlooking what some might miss.

For example, the young men in our nation’s schools, whether government or private or homeschools, are all being shaped by women teachers, with a few exceptions. What does that look like? That depends, of course, on the women. If a woman understands the importance of courage for a man and she knows what courage is, then she’ll see the opportunities to teach that courage when they arise. And for boys, those opportunities arise all the time. Young boys are very attuned to the quality of courage in men and in their comrades. They sense weakness and they admire strength – especially when they see a small boy taking up for himself against a bully. They admire that smaller, weaker fellow, the underdog so-to-speak, who always comes up fighting. And that truly is admirable. We love the saying, “Dynamite comes in small packages.”

But being able or willing to fight does not necessarily make the small boy any more courageous than the bigger bully. It may just mean he’s hot-headed and easily pushed passed the point of sanity into rage. We certainly don’t want to foster that characteristic. That’s precisely why it takes a wise woman to shape a boy into a man. She’s got to be able to see the fine distinctions. She’s got to love courage herself and want that in her pupils/sons. She’s got to despise bloodlust and rage rather desire that those boys become men of peace. But she’s also got to know when it’s time for the boy to face his fear and take up his duty inspite of personal danger.

There are two instances when that opportunity most often arises in a boy’s life – when a bully’s trying to push him around, and when someone’s picking on his sister (or friend). At these times, it’s right for a boy to fight. A discerning woman will recognize the opportunity when it arises. Rather than let her natural womanly urges to provide safety for all her children, she’ll provide a safe environment for those young men to practice and prove their courage.

I’ve got a friend who coached a soccer team. There was a bully on the team who incessantly picked on one of the other players. It was obvious that the bully would not let up, but the boy on the receiving end was not a hot-head and was not itching for the fight, and perhaps didn’t even feel it would be right to defend himself by fighting in such an environment. But when the coach recognized the situation for what it was, he wisely went to the bully’s father, told him the situation, and together they brought the two boys together and gave them the chance to duke it out. It ended up that the bully wasn’t so prepared to fight after all. And that was that. But it took real wisdom (and courage!) on the part of the parents to be able to provide such a “safe” arena for those young men’s courage to be put to the test and, thereby, fostered.

Fred Thompson incidentally compared Sarah Palin to Teddy Roosevelt. The comparison had to do with which elected officials could dress a moose. But it made me think of a story I’ve read from Doug Wilson’s preface to his book, Future Men. He tells of how Teddy Roosevelt took a boy in his Sunday school class aside, who had been fighting with another boy, to discern the situation. When the young boy revealed that he was taking up for his sister, Roosevelt gave him a dollar.

I wonder if Sarah Palin, in the same situation, would have compared as favorably to Roosevelt and had the wisdom to reward the young man’s courage to do his duty in the face of personal danger. I don’t mean to imply she wouldn’t. In fact, she strikes me as the kind who would. If so, kudos. We need women who will be wise enough to know themselves and the situations young boys often face, so that they can overcome their own default drive urges to protect and rather let those young boys practice becoming men who can face terrors like McCain faced, and become heroes.

September 4th, 2008 | Category: Child rearing | Leave a comment