The Next Story

I'm enjoying Wendy's series on Tim Challies' The Next Story - a book about our relationship with technology and cyber-communication - from her blog Musings (one of the best blogs around):

The Next Story

reading the Bible with kids - even the hard bits

The first chapter of Ezekiel (let’s be honest) is some kind of weird. A wind drives an immense storm cloud from the north; four glowing creatures emerge from the cloud, each with four different faces, with two wings covering their bodies and two spread out, darting to and fro with a sound like roaring waters; wheels within wheels, one for each creature, their rims covered in eyes, move in a straight line wherever the four creatures go; and above the creatures’ wings is an expanse like crystal, surmounted by a sapphire throne on which sits a human figure, glowing like metal in a furnace.

It’s a vivid, startling passage, and the kids’ faces are rapt. Mine too. We read Revelation a year or so ago, and the echoes and allusions are clearer than I’ve ever seen them, so much so that we all pick them up, even our eight year old.

It’s at times like this that I understand why the Puritans called the home a ‘little church’. As we sit here, the four kids and I, listening to my husband Steve read the Bible, it all falls into place. It’s completely casual, and I reckon just about anyone could do it, because all you have to do is to open a Bible, read a passage, and talk about it.

We use the same method my parents used with my brother and me after dinner, back in the day when their Presbyterian church, faithful to its Puritan heritage, taught them that it’s the parents’ responsibility to teach their kids about God. Here’s how we do it:

• We take it in turns to read a book of the Bible, which leads to some pretty random choices, most recently Revelation, 1 and 2 Samuel, Acts and Ezekiel.
  
• We read a chapter a night (the nights when we do it, that is). Mostly the adults read, but sometimes the older children.
• Each member of the family gets to choose whether to ask or answer a question, even our five year old, whose questions tend to be simple multiple choice: ‘Did Ezekiel see: a. a cloud, b. a mountain, c. a goose?’. If they ask a question, the rest of the family gets to answer it.
• We pray about what we read.1

See? I told you it was easy. So easy that it doesn't matter who's at our dinner table: we can invite them to join in.2 So easy - and yet so challenging - that it suits our whole family, with ages ranging from five to thirteen to forty-four.3

Of course, there’s a little more to it than that. When it comes to Ezekiel, it helps that Steve wrote some Bible studies on it a few years ago. When we’re confused, we ask him to explain, and he does, not in a preachy way, but just because we’re interested in what it all means. If this takes a little preparation, why shouldn’t parents put this kind of effort into teaching their children; or perhaps open a commentary and find the answers together? But mostly there’s no preparation, just us and the Bible.

We don’t read the Bible together every night. But it happens often enough for our kids to begin to realize that they can read and understand the Bible for themselves. Thomas, who’s eight, started out not really listening or concentrating (his questions were limited to the last verse of the passage or to the fascinating topic of death and destruction - ‘Why did so-and-so die/kill/maim so-and-so?’). These days, he takes in most of the passage and asks or answers intelligent questions.

As we chat about Ezekiel's vision, we nut out some of the weird imagery:

• the eyes - God sees everything
• the wheels, like the wheels of a chariot, moving in all directions - God can go anywhere
• the four faces, each ruler of a different sphere (the man over the creatures, the lion over wild animals, the ox over tame animals, and the eagle over the sky) - God rules everything


• the 'expanse' - eleven-year-old Ben chips in here and says it means ‘God is above them and better’ and his Dad says, ‘Yep’
• the glowing figure on the throne - eight-year-old Thomas exclaims, ‘It’s Jesus!’ (see, I told you we've been reading Revelation)4

Now we’re all getting it.

When Ezekiel sees this vision, he's with the exiles in Babylon. We know what that means, because we’re all familiar with the Boney M. song River of Babylon, one of the songs on the retro playlists Steve inflicts on us in the car. He asks what the vision means, and Ben answers, ‘That God is there and that he loves them.’ Spot on!5. God is all-powerful, he sees everything, and he's everywhere, even with the exiles in Babylon. What seemed a bizarre and unsettling vision is now full of comfort.

Steve sums it up with words that haunt me for days: ‘God is there even in the bad things.’

I go away more encouraged than after many church meetings I’ve been to. No, scrap that. This is a church meeting, a gathering of God's people – one that any family or bunch of people can have in their home. All you need is a Bible, and a willingness to open it and ask questions. As you do this, especially if you don't skip the hard bits, you realize that, yes, the Bible is understandable, and anyone can read it. You begin to see how it all fits together. You learn that it's exciting and life-changing. Best of all, you get to know Jesus.

Any family or household can do that!


1. If this method doesn't appeal to you, you'll find some excellent ideas and resources in Sandy Grant's article Bible reading with kids.
2. Although we don't necessarily ask our visitors to jump straight into Ezekiel: when our neighbours shared a meal the other day, we asked if they would mind joining in our after-dinner Bible reading, and read half a chapter of Mark with them. We didn't make them ask or answer questions, although their son volunteered better answers than ours did!
3. That said, our five year old is more in the learning-to-concentrate rather than the taking-everything-in category, so we read a children's Bible with the little ones at bedtime while the older kids and adults do their own Bible notes: not everything is age-transferable!
4. Actually, it's 'the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD' (Ezekiel 1:28); what Thomas is picking up on is how the description of Jesus in Revelation 1:12-16 draws on Old Testament visions of God's glory, such as Ezekiel chapters 1, 9 and 43 and Daniel chapters 7 and 10.
5. Although we're about to learn that God's presence in exile has as much to do with judgement as salvation as we read the first half of Ezekiel, something we could have guessed from the lightning cloud; we'll get to God's salvation in the second half of the book.

This post first appeared in The Briefing last Friday.

image is a detail of Michelangelo's Sistene Chapel ceiling

5 books that changed who I am (6) the one book

Here's where I add an extra book to my 5. Really, in the end, this is the one and only, in each and every season. If the other 5 books changed me at all, it's because they led me to this and opened it up to me.

(6) Always
The Bible, God's word to us all, feeds me, delights me, challenges me, surprises me, and works its way into my heart, where it changes me from the inside out.

Runners up: none.

Yep, that was 6. But I nearly made it. That's pretty good for me. :)

I'm supposed to pass this meme onto other bloggers I know, but they've received it already! If you're a blogger, feel free to do it and tell me about it. :)

two love stories - or three

'Every adult life is defined by two great love stories,' writes author and philosopher Alain de Botton. On the one hand, there is our well-charted quest for romantic love, and on the other, our quest for love from the world ('a more secret and shameful tale'). In his book Status Anxiety, de Botton argues this second love story 'is no less intense than the first...and its setbacks are no less painful.'

It's an intriguing idea, and one that has stuck in my head like a burr since I read it in a magazine article earlier this year. Because it's true, isn't it?

Our first quest is to be loved by someone, to be chosen by them above all others, and to choose them in return. With this love, we hope, will come all the trappings: family, security, home. In this small circle it matters supremely what others think of us.

Our second quest is to be loved or respected by others: by the whole crowd of anonymous strangers. We pass them in the street and wonder what impression we're making. We sit next to them on the train and hope they admire our choice of reading material. We push our trolley past them in the supermarket and stage a happy-family-performance just for them.

Perhaps we want fame, success, a name that's recognized. Perhaps we'd settle for the admiration of a smaller group: our co-workers at the office, the wider Christian community, the people in our church. If we win their respect, we've succeeded. If we fail in their eyes, we've failed indeed.

There is a third quest: another love story. It's not mentioned in the article I read, for when it comes to this love we are blind (2 Corinthians 4:4). In this story, we're not the ones who seek: we're the ones who are sought, pursued from heaven to earth by a lover who laid down his life to win his bride. Paradoxically, although we haven't sought this love, it alone can satisfy (Psalm 16:11).

When I devote my life to the first two love stories - to the quest for romantic love and the love of the world - I'm left empty, for human love is fallible and fading, and the world's opinion shifts and changes. Worse, I'm an adulterer, turning to other lovers to give me what only God can give, giving them the devotion and service that belong to him. (Jeremiah 2:12-13; James 4:4-5)

To people-pleasers like me, so quick to seek the glory of the world rather than the glory that comes from God (John 12:43), Jesus says,

I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more that they can do. But I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him! (Luke 12:4-5)

There's only one whose opinion matters, and that's the God whose Son died in my place. It's before his judgement seat that I stand or fall. And he is able to make me stand, for Jesus rose from the dead, speaks for me before his throne, and will one day gather me - and all who live for him - to himself (Romans 14:4; 1 John 2:1; Rev 19:6-9).

Who cares what others think of me? It's God I seek to please. It's his praise I long for, not the praise of men (Romans 2:29). It's from him I want to hear the words, 'Well done, good and faithful servant' (Matthew 25:23).

I have to remind myself of this a dozen times a day, people-pleaser that I am.


1. From Candice Chung's article Finding success later in life in Sunday Life magazine, July 10th, 2011.

This article first appeared in The Briefing today.

image is by kelsey_lovefusionphoto
from flickr

forming godly habits

Since I haven't had time to post anything this week (I'm working hard on a writing/editing job and it's school holidays) I thought I'd point you in the direction of this helpful article by Lionel Windsor about forming godly habits:

Creatures of Habit

Happy reading!

5 books that changed who I am (5) late 30s

As I continue with this meme about books that have changed me, it seems appropriate to mention a book about change...

(5) late 30s - change and grace
Thirty-five, still battling perfectionism, and still struggling to obey God from a legalistic heart. Increasingly, I felt fearful and on edge; I was battling mild depression; I was struggling with people-pleasing and ambition; and my anxious busyness had driven me to the edge of burnout. So many books helped me through this time; but one (besides the Bible) stands head and shoulders above the rest. Yep, you guessed it...

Tim Chester's You Can Change brought me to the foot of the cross, giving me a new joy in God's grace and a new motivation to change. He showed me my heart - the idols of people-pleasing and perfection, and the false beliefs that caused my anxiety and discouragement - and helped me to turn to God's glory and grace. So much heart-change in one book! You may remember that I blogged through it here.

Runners up: Martyn Lloyd Jones Spiritual Depression, Tim Chester The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness (which I blogged through here), John Piper When I Don't Desire God, Elyse Fitzpatrick Overcoming Fear, Worry and Anxiety, Paul Tripp Lost in the Middle, and anything and everything by Ed Welch, particularly Lost in the Middle: Midlife and the Grace of God, which I'd recommend to anyone of any age.

Which books have helped you to change? Tell us here.

are holidays Christian?

You might remember a post I wrote some time ago about Tim Chester's argument that holidays aren't biblical. Here's some further thoughts I wrote for The Briefing.

There's a certain amount of discomfort in Christian circles when it comes to annual leave and long service leave - or any kind of extended holiday, for that matter. The workaholics and type-A personalities amongst us (I'm putting my hand up now) can be even more uncomfortable about taking holidays. Perhaps they're right.

Aren't these the last days, when our task - to tell the world about Jesus - is a matter of desperate urgency? Shouldn't we be spending our time and money on gospel ministry, not on luxurious holidays-for-self? Haven't most people, across the world and until the fairly recent past, had to do without annual leave? Doesn't the Bible, as some argue, give us a pattern of six days' work and one day's rest, not overwork for most of the year and 'binge resting' during one's annual leave?1

Yes, yes, yes, and...well, a qualified yes. While I agree that laziness and overwork are thoroughly unbiblical, and 'binge resting' doesn't sound much better, my husband and I are convinced that extended leave and holidays can be very, very good things. So much so, that we've just celebrated Steve's long service leave with a seven week driving trip from Melbourne to Cairns. Not very luxurious, and perhaps not even particularly restful (picture 7000 kms in a car with four children), but a great break all the same!

Why do I think holidays and extended leave are biblical? Here are six reasons, ranging from anecdotal to theological.

1. If you're anything like us, after working hard for many months or years, extended rest is a very welcome gift of God.
   Yes, I know that most people throughout history and across the world have had to do without annual and long service leave. They are not necessities of life, any more than owning a car or living near a local park; but this doesn't make them bad things. A year ago, my husband was looking wilted after eleven years in an exhausting ministry job, and I was worn out after eleven years of raising young children. Long service leave has done us a world of good, and we thank God for his timely gift (1 Timothy 4:1-5).



2. Rest is biblical.
   Rest shows that I believe I'm not the God and Savior of the universe: God is, and I can trust him to run the world and continue his work while I rest. Rest shows that I live in God's grace, rather than needing to prove myself, meet others' expectations or give my life meaning through work. Rest shows that I acknowledge my humanness, my dependence and my need: that while God doesn't need rest, I'm a creature, and I do (Psalm 121:4; 127:2). Rest shows that I know life isn't about work, but about glorifying God in all I do, while I work and while I rest.2



3. Extended times of rest are biblical.
   It's sometimes argued that, while we're not under the Old Testament law, the wise biblical pattern expressed in Genesis 2:1-2 and the Sabbath commandment is six days of work and one day of rest. I agree. But there were also extended times of rest in the Old Testament calendar: regular annual celebrations in which workers downed tools and traveled to the temple, and (seldom observed) seventh year rests and forty-ninth year Jubilees, when the land and its people rested from their labor.3 I'm not arguing that we need to keep special days any more (Galatians 4:8-11; Colossians 2:16-17; Hebrews 10:1) but if the Sabbath gives us a wise principle for weekly rest, why not the Old Testament pattern of longer rests as well?4



4. Rest (including more extended periods of rest) helps us to avoid burnout and stay in for the long haul.
   I have to admit that I don't like the term 'self care'. But, in the end, rest is not about self care: it's about other-person care.5 If it's true, for example, that up to 50% of pastors leave pastoral ministry within the first five years, many due to burnout, then it's important to take steps to prevent this. My husband is no workaholic - he's much better than me at regular weekly rest - but after more than ten years' work as a ministry leader who spares others the extra load, he badly needed time to refuel and revive so he can keep serving for the next ten years.



5. Rest helps our relationships.
   During times of rest, marriages can be built and family life strengthened in a way that's not always possible during the busyness of life. My friend Heather encouraged me (and our experience on our recent holiday confirmed it):
   
   

   In the long run Steve & the kids (and eventually the grandkids) will always be your primary ministry so take some time out to ensure that those relationships develop a strength and solidity that will last through the teen years and into adulthood. Our LSL time was always a precious memory for our kids, and many of the experiences laid down during this period were foundational in holding together the open communication with our kids we enjoyed into the teen years and even now.

6. Rest helps us to pour ourselves out in God's service.
   There are times of life when we give out (hopefully most of life!) and times of life when we take in so we can serve, such as during theological study, conferences, study leave or holidays. During such times we regroup, reflect, renew ('the three Rs') as we prepare prayerfully for the future. Rest doesn't necessarily show a failure to 'pour ourselves out' for the gospel; used wisely, it fills us so that we can 'pour out' all the more, working hard in God's service to the end (Philippians 2:17 cf. Romans 12:11; 1 Corinthians 15:58; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13).

Are holidays Christian? Well, it depends. If we spend too much on self-indulgent, luxurious vacations, then no (James 5:5). If we overwork all year to save up for a few weeks' leave, then no. If we live for leisure as if it were the goal of life, then no. But if we work hard in God's service and rest wisely and regularly, then yes, holidays can be a very good gift of God. Like all gifts of God received with thanksgiving and used for his glory, they become truly 'holy' days, not in the old sense of special religious days, but in the sense of a creation gift 'made holy' by the word and prayer (1 Timothy 4:1-5).

What do you think?


1. See Tim Chester, The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness, pages 29-30. I must add that I agree with most of what he says here, and this is probably the only bit of this excellent book that I have any disagreement with!
2. See the book just mentioned and my series busyness and burnout.
3. See my post Sunday School: The Law and Sacrifices - Special Days for a more detailed overview.
4. The hole in my argument is that the Sabbath is established in Genesis 2:2-3 as a creation principle while the annual religious festivals aren't; but both are spoken of in the same breath in Colossians 2:16-17, and both show that regular breaks from work are neither a modern phenomenon nor an unbiblical one.
5. Thanks, Honoria Lau, for pointing this out to me.
6. See Grant Bickerton's article Stressors of pastors and leaders.

image is by andrewmalone from flickr

5 books that changed who I am (4) early 30s

Marriage, motherhood, and the books that changed me...

(4) early 30s - godly womanhood
Looking back on the early years of marriage and motherhood, I was almost completely clueless! I got married when I was 21, and became a mum when I was one month off 30. In my late teens I'd become convinced that God gives men and women complementary roles (thanks largely to Piper and Grudem's Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood), but I had little idea of how to live this out in our home.

As a new mum, I gradually realised that my focus needed to shift from formal ministries outside the home (which I had to lay aside for a few years) to loving my husband, teaching and training our children, and caring for our home. The book that helped me most with this was Carolyn Mahaney's Feminine Appeal (the first book I blogged through). She introduced me to Titus 2:3-5 and God's call to love husband and children, care for our home, serve people in our church and community, and teach and encourage younger women.

Runners up: Elizabeth George's A Woman After God's Own Heart (not because it's the best but because it was the first book like this I read, so it had an enormous impact on me) and Sharon James God's Design for Women (because it's perhaps the best).

household management - a helpful reminder

As we think about all those handy household tips, here's a helpful hint from Deb about how not to get overwhelmed by them all.

I think the biggest help to me has been building routines. Slowly. When I've attempted to become wonderful at housekeeping overnight, I've fallen in a heap because I can't mantain the level of energy all the time. But adding one extra thing in at a time over a long period of time has been good. I now always put on a load of washing every morning while the kids are doing the last minute scramble to get out the door to school. Done and waiting for me to hang out mid-morning. I now always wipe down the stove top after I wash the dishes. I used to leave it until it really needed doing (and long after sometimes!). Now I do it without thinking and it's not a chore because I'm used to it. I think good home managers have probably learnt to build certain tasks into habits so that it no longer feels so burdensome - it's just what they do. I have a lot more routines I need to get going though!

image is by Aunty Cookie from flickr

unlovely

Sometimes I feel so unlovely.

Sometimes it rises up and sickens me: the horror of my lovelessness, the ugliness of my self-absorption, the scandal of my greed. How God hates my impurity and despises my pride and abhors my complaining (Psalm 26:5; Proverbs 6:16-19; 1 Cor 10:10; Ephesians 5:5).

I’m left gasping for breath, as if the possibility of God's love has been sucked from the air. My sudden self-awareness squeezes out any sense of God's grace. Stripped of my defences, I'm naked, ashamed, exposed.

The fact that I'm so stunned by this view of myself shows how seldom I see the truth. How, at some level, I believe God loves me because he finds my personality winsome and my potential impressive. Because he rates my performance at least above a pass mark. Because I'm, well, lovable.

This is, to put it mildly, an entire tip-full of garbage.

When I see my unloveliness, I see more clearly than I usually do. The rose-colored glasses are shattered, the make-up scrubbed off, the mirror wiped clean.

I am unlovely. That’s precisely the point.

God loves the unlovable. Jesus died for the unlovely. It's the blind who see, the leprous who are healed, the lost who are found. It's the guilty who are forgiven. (Matthew 11:2-6, Mark 2:13-17, Luke 15:1-32, 18:9-14) Full of the illusion of my loveliness, I'm bereft of grace. Emptied of myself, I'm ready to be filled.

Unlovely, I am loved.


This article first appeared at The Briefing yesterday.

image is by gogoloopie at flickr