Robert Jones wrote today about the feelings of guilt that moms often seem to feel.
"The guilt you feel may be distorted guilt. We may wrongly place
ourselves under a law we erect: 'Good mothers should do X, Y, or Z,'
even though X, Y, or Z may go beyond what God’s Word commands. I think
of my friend—a good mom by any fair standard—who believed that all good
moms should take their kids to the library three times a week. Sometimes
those false standards come from outside of us—the ideals of your church
or small group, your mother’s model, your mother-in-law’s advice, or
the latest book or blog from your favorite Christian counselor."
Read the whole thing here.
08 March 2012
07 March 2012
Book Review: Scripture as Communication
The pain of "selective reduction"
A couple of days ago, there was an article on American Thinker, written by an anonymous author, the husband of a woman who chose to selective abort two of her three babies. He had no choice in the matter. She told him she would abort them all or keep only one.
He writes,
"Before the procedure, my wife's eyes teared up; she asked the doctor over and over if they would feel pain, and was assured they would not. I asked again if my wife was sure about this because once done, it could not be undone. She said she was sure, but her tears and her looking away from the screen, deliberately, and her wanting me to not look either, told me the truth: she knew as well that this was wrong. I wanted to insist that she look, but I think that her mind -- already fractured by the news of triplets -- would have snapped permanently had she seen the images onscreen. And to save the one, and for the sake of the one we already had, I needed my wife sane.
"My wife didn't look, but I had to. I had to know what would happen to my children. I had to know how they would die.
"Each retreated, pushing away, as the needle entered the amniotic sac. They did not inject into the placenta, but directly into each child's torso. Each one crumpled as the needle pierced the body. I saw the heart stop in the first, and mine almost did, too. The other's heart fought, but ten minutes later they looked again, and it too had ceased.
"The doctors had the gall to call the potassium chloride, the chemical that stopped children's hearts, "medicine." I wanted to ask what they were trying cure -- life? But bitter words would not undo what had happened. I swallowed anything I might have said."
He writes,
"Before the procedure, my wife's eyes teared up; she asked the doctor over and over if they would feel pain, and was assured they would not. I asked again if my wife was sure about this because once done, it could not be undone. She said she was sure, but her tears and her looking away from the screen, deliberately, and her wanting me to not look either, told me the truth: she knew as well that this was wrong. I wanted to insist that she look, but I think that her mind -- already fractured by the news of triplets -- would have snapped permanently had she seen the images onscreen. And to save the one, and for the sake of the one we already had, I needed my wife sane.
"My wife didn't look, but I had to. I had to know what would happen to my children. I had to know how they would die.
"Each retreated, pushing away, as the needle entered the amniotic sac. They did not inject into the placenta, but directly into each child's torso. Each one crumpled as the needle pierced the body. I saw the heart stop in the first, and mine almost did, too. The other's heart fought, but ten minutes later they looked again, and it too had ceased.
"The doctors had the gall to call the potassium chloride, the chemical that stopped children's hearts, "medicine." I wanted to ask what they were trying cure -- life? But bitter words would not undo what had happened. I swallowed anything I might have said."
Who told you that you were naked?
I enjoy Jon Acuff's Stuff Christians Like, but I particularly like serious Wednesdays. Today, he discusses Genesis 3:11, where God is speaking with Adam and Eve, asking the question "who told you that you were naked?"
He writes,
To me, this is one of the saddest and most profoundly beautiful verses in the entire Bible. Adam and Eve have fallen. The apple is a core. The snake has spoken. The dream appears crushed. As they hide from God under clothes they’ve hastily sewn together, He appears and asks them a simple question:
“Who told you that you were naked?”
There is hurt in God’s voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.
Who told you that you were not enough?
Who told you that I didn’t love you?
Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?
Who told you that you were ugly?
Who told you that your dream was foolish?
Who told you that you would never have a child?
Who told you that you would never be a father?
Who told you that you weren’t a good mother?
Who told you that without a job you aren’t worth anything?
Who told you that you’ll never know love again?
Who told you that this was all there is?
Who told you that you were naked?
I don’t know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were people who might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don’t know what lies you’ve been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.
But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, “Who told you that you were naked?”
And He’s still asking us that question because we are not.
In Christ, we are not worthless.
In Christ, we are not hopeless.
In Christ, we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.
In Christ, we are not naked.
Isaiah 61:10 says:
“For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.”
The world may try to tell you a thousand different things today. You might close this post and hear a million declarations of who you are or who you’ll always be, but know this:
As unbelievable as it sounds, and as much as I never expected to type this sentence on this blog:
You are not naked.
He writes,
To me, this is one of the saddest and most profoundly beautiful verses in the entire Bible. Adam and Eve have fallen. The apple is a core. The snake has spoken. The dream appears crushed. As they hide from God under clothes they’ve hastily sewn together, He appears and asks them a simple question:
“Who told you that you were naked?”
There is hurt in God’s voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.
Who told you that you were not enough?
Who told you that I didn’t love you?
Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?
Who told you that you were ugly?
Who told you that your dream was foolish?
Who told you that you would never have a child?
Who told you that you would never be a father?
Who told you that you weren’t a good mother?
Who told you that without a job you aren’t worth anything?
Who told you that you’ll never know love again?
Who told you that this was all there is?
Who told you that you were naked?
I don’t know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were people who might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don’t know what lies you’ve been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.
But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, “Who told you that you were naked?”
And He’s still asking us that question because we are not.
In Christ, we are not worthless.
In Christ, we are not hopeless.
In Christ, we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.
In Christ, we are not naked.
Isaiah 61:10 says:
“For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.”
The world may try to tell you a thousand different things today. You might close this post and hear a million declarations of who you are or who you’ll always be, but know this:
As unbelievable as it sounds, and as much as I never expected to type this sentence on this blog:
You are not naked.
06 March 2012
Book review: For Calvinism
So, having stated that, from what I could see, Horton seems to depend upon scripture to a greater degree than Olson did to establish his arguments for Calvinism. While Olson found Calvinism logically inconceivable and morally reprehensible, Horton tries to describe what Scripture says. I find this to be true of most Calvinists (e.g., John Piper, Charles Spurgeon)--they try to account for all of Scripture. Further, although Olson dealt almost exclusively with TULIP (a term Horton doesn't care for), Horton moves beyond to consider more broadly Reformed beliefs and doctrine. As a general defense of TULIP, I prefer Sproul's Chosen by God, yet this is a fine volume in that regard as well.
A drawback of the book, and of reformed theology in general, seems to be an overreliance upon the creeds and confessions. Although I generally agree with early creeds and much of reformed confessions (Heidelberg, Westminster), they are not to be the grounding for our belief. God's word is.
On the whole, I would commend these two volumes. Although I still think Calvinism is the best explanation for all of Scripture, Olson argues his point well. Horton, as always, is a humble, wise, and articulate defender of confessional Calvinism. 4 stars.
Dealing with sexual sin
Desiring God features an article by Harry Schaumberg about Sexual sin in the ministry. He writes,
"Several years ago a seminary professor told me: 'We no longer ask our entering students if they struggling with pornography, we assume every student is struggling. The question we ask: ‘How serious is the struggle?’”"
Sexual sin is a huge issue in the church as it is throughout the world at large. Schaumberg points to many of the issues at hand.
I was particularly struck by this passage, "When one is held in the grip of sexual sin, there is no hope of self-reform or self-efforts, for those living according to the “passions of their flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and mind” (Ephesians 2:3). To put it bluntly, those living in habitual sexual sin are “dead in their trespasses and sin” (verse 1). Dead, in a loss of spiritual life. Dead to finding satisfaction with God. Dead to living for his purpose. Holiness is dead. Wisdom is dead. Purity is dead. Love is dead. Like David, the sexual sinner has sinned “against the Lord” (2 Samuel 12:13), and in so doing has “utterly scorned the Lord” (verse 14). The horrible fact is they are “by nature children of wrath” (Ephesians 2:3)."
I would strongly recommend this article, particularly to the men. And then find someone to whom you can be accountable.
"Several years ago a seminary professor told me: 'We no longer ask our entering students if they struggling with pornography, we assume every student is struggling. The question we ask: ‘How serious is the struggle?’”"
Sexual sin is a huge issue in the church as it is throughout the world at large. Schaumberg points to many of the issues at hand.
I was particularly struck by this passage, "When one is held in the grip of sexual sin, there is no hope of self-reform or self-efforts, for those living according to the “passions of their flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and mind” (Ephesians 2:3). To put it bluntly, those living in habitual sexual sin are “dead in their trespasses and sin” (verse 1). Dead, in a loss of spiritual life. Dead to finding satisfaction with God. Dead to living for his purpose. Holiness is dead. Wisdom is dead. Purity is dead. Love is dead. Like David, the sexual sinner has sinned “against the Lord” (2 Samuel 12:13), and in so doing has “utterly scorned the Lord” (verse 14). The horrible fact is they are “by nature children of wrath” (Ephesians 2:3)."
I would strongly recommend this article, particularly to the men. And then find someone to whom you can be accountable.
05 March 2012
Sharpen your swords
Jeremy Walker at Reformation 21 writes of the difficulty of hiding God's word in our heart in our modern age.
He writes, "You have one primary offensive weapon with which to do battle against sin: 'the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God' (Eph 6.17). Can you afford to have that potent blade wrapped up in the electronic cobwebs of some computer programme when you need it for the fight? Do you not know from bitter experience that you do not have time to draw the sword from the depths of your electronic device when Satan comes roaring in against you? You need it sitting in your hand, you need it stored up in your heart ready for immediate deployment when the enemy comes upon you unawares. To use a more modern metaphor, you cannot afford to wander this battlefield with all your ammunition stored at the bottom of your backpack; you need your weapon locked and loaded at all times.
I would commend the whole thing to you here.
He writes, "You have one primary offensive weapon with which to do battle against sin: 'the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God' (Eph 6.17). Can you afford to have that potent blade wrapped up in the electronic cobwebs of some computer programme when you need it for the fight? Do you not know from bitter experience that you do not have time to draw the sword from the depths of your electronic device when Satan comes roaring in against you? You need it sitting in your hand, you need it stored up in your heart ready for immediate deployment when the enemy comes upon you unawares. To use a more modern metaphor, you cannot afford to wander this battlefield with all your ammunition stored at the bottom of your backpack; you need your weapon locked and loaded at all times.
I would commend the whole thing to you here.
04 March 2012
What, you don't agree with me?
Michael Patton writes a good, humble essay on disagreement between believers. He points to what we commonly want to assume is the reason for disagreement and it typically falls on our assumptions about deficiencies in the other person of a sort (e.g., lack of wisdom). However, he also points to other, very real possibilities. For example, they may be right and I may be wrong.
Read the whole thing here.
Read the whole thing here.
02 March 2012
NO condemnation
However deep and wide you think the freedom offered to sinners in the gospel is–it’s more, not less. This is how Tullian Tchvidjian begins today's essay. The whole thing is worth the read.
Are there benefits to ebooks?
I have come down on the paper side of the e-book/traditional book debate, though I read in both formats. Zach Nielsen has linked to an article from Eric McKiddie about some benefits of e-books that is worth reading through.
Number 2 is a definite benefit as far as I am concerned. The Evernote connection. It’s easy to import your Kindle highlights into Evernote, making them easily and speedily searchable. This is a huge time saver when it comes to sermon prep. Michael Hyatt shows you how.
Read the rest here.
Number 2 is a definite benefit as far as I am concerned. The Evernote connection. It’s easy to import your Kindle highlights into Evernote, making them easily and speedily searchable. This is a huge time saver when it comes to sermon prep. Michael Hyatt shows you how.
Read the rest here.
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