To tithe or not to tithe? That is the question.

And how we answer leads to other questions:

Gross or net? 
What if in debt? 
Should we give 10% of everything, including Christmas and birthday gifts and tax refunds? 
If you cannot give with joy, should you just not give at all? 

Unfortunately, a simple answer won’t suffice.

In an attempt to answer this question, our new article, “Should Christians Tithe?” lays out relevant biblical principles to consider for those who have received the radical grace of the gospel.

Compelled by the love of Christ, Christians are called to give generously, cheerfully, sacrificially, spontaneously, regularly, secretly and thankfully to a local church, family, friends, neighbors, enemies, widows, orphans and the impoverished and oppressed.

The question of tithing goes well beyond a discussion of percentage. It plunges into the depths of our desires and dreams. Informed by the Scriptures and empowered by the Spirit, we follow Christ beyond the borders of our comforts and conveniences into the currents of costly grace.

Did you know the word “nice” used to mean foolish or stupid? Ironically, people started using it as a way to describe someone as “pleasant” or “decent,” unaware of its original meaning, and over time, “nice” completely lost its original meaning.

The phrase “separation of church and state” is the same way. It meant something to America’s founding fathers, but over time, it took on a new meaning. Today, the phrase means that if something is related to the state, then discussion of religion is forbidden.

History

What did the phrase “separation of church and state” originally mean in the Constitution? Let’s look at a few insights.

The first thing to note is that the phrase doesn’t occur anywhere in the Constitution. It is a phrase that people have inaccurately invented in an attempt to explain the First Amendment: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”

In its original context, this passage meant that the U.S. would not have an official “state Church” like England. The English government officially supported the Church of England, using taxes to support Anglicanism. The founding fathers, who promoted the Revolutionary War, did not want the same kind of church.

This is the extent of this passage from the First Amendment. There is nowhere in the Constitution that forbids individuals from mixing faith and politics or from sharing their faith in a state-related function or location.

Also, the following facts show that, historically, no one interpreted the First Amendment to exclude religion from the political sphere:

• The U.S. Congress used to hold Christian worship services at the Capitol on Sundays.
• The Supreme Court Building was used to house church services on Sundays.
• Twelve of the original 14 states required religious tests for those seeking public office.
• After the Civil War, the First Congregational Church of Washington used the House of Representatives as a worship building.
• In 1863, the U.S. Senate requested that Abraham Lincoln designate an official day of national prayer and humility.
• In 1944, Franklin D. Roosevelt (as well as many presidents before him) went on the radio and prayed nationally for our troops and our nation.
• When the First Amendment was implemented in 1791, it was intended to only limit the natural (federal) government and not the state government.

We have seriously misunderstood what “separation of church and state” means. To the founding fathers, the First Amendment existed to keep the state out of the church, not the church out of the state.

Application

There are two applications here for Christians today:

First, we as believers should use our rights and our freedom of religion to promote what is righteous. We are not allowed to be silenced in the public sphere by the government. We should use our rights to stand up, not only for our faith but also against issues such as abortion and the restriction of religious liberty.

Second, we must understand that good interpretation matters, whether we are interpreting the Bible, the Constitution or any other document. If we interpret someone’s words in a way that wouldn’t make sense to the original audience, we have developed an incorrect interpretation.

May we seek to be good students of interpretation, good students of history and good students of the rights we have as believers in our country.

I've been listening to Aaron Sorkin for a few years now. Sorkin is the screenwriter behind The Social Network, The West Wing, Sports Night and much more. If you've been listening with me, you know there is something forceful in his words, something that champions excellence and points to a deeper, truer beauty.

I've wrestled to put flesh to bone, but in hearing Sorkin articulate his writing aim, I finally have the vocabulary to describe why I’ve been so captivated by his words. In 2012 Sorkin appeared on NPR’s Fresh Air, plugging his latest work, The Newsroom:

Gross: So what about you? Why did you want to set a show in a newsroom?

Sorkin: I like writing idealistically and romantically, and if you can do that in a place that's usually looked at cynically, the way journalism is now, you can get something fun out of it.

Gross: Why do you like writing idealistically? Another example of that would be "The West Wing."

Sorkin: I like writing about heroes that don't wear capes or disguises. It's aspirational. You feel like, gee, it looks like the real world and feels like the real world. Why can't that be the real world?

Sorkin dares to write how he wishes the world would be. This idea reminds me of the  Puritan pastor and theologian Jonathan Edwards and his view on the power of the imagination and language. Edwards spoke extensively on the ability of words and phrases to illustrate ideas that are beyond tangible grasp, images of the everyday that point toward the image of the Divine.

This is why Sorkin's words ring true, because they are written to be heard, intended to leave you a bit unsettled, engaged at every comma and left wanting at every period. Edwards believed that the preacher's words are to take the everyday experience of the person in the pew and use it to point to the nature of God. The imagination discovers something it cannot create and continues to discover for eternity.

The puzzle for me then is why some words are so weak, our frame of reference so limited. We hear of the beauty of Christ, we know there is something deeper than the abstract, but words fail to make His beauty clear to our souls.

Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian NYC, says it this way:

If the people are materialistic and ungenerous, it means they have not truly understood how Jesus, though rich, became poor for them. It means they have not truly understood what it means that in Christ we have all riches and treasures. It means their 'affections' are clinging to material things—their souls are inclined toward riches as a source of spiritual security, hope, and beauty. They may have superficial intellectual grasp of Jesus' spiritual wealth, but they do not truly grasp it. Thus in preaching we must re-present Christ in the particular way that he replaces the place of material things in the affections. This takes not just intellectual argument, but the presentation of the beauty of Christ. Edwards believed that at the root of the heart's affections was the search for 'excellency'—that which is appreciated and rested in for its own sake. Edwards essentially defined a nominal Christian as one who finds Christ useful (to get those things the heart found 'excellent' or beautiful), while a true Christian is one who finds Christ for who he is in himself.

There is a reason that hearts swell when words stir affections, helping imaginations discover what they could not see before. This is the work of the preacher, to point to what is truly excellent. There is a particular work of the Spirit that gives this sight, and He has chosen to do it through preaching the Word.

We are speaking about the Hero who needs no cape, who entered into the real world that we might know true ideal and romance in His excellency.

We follow beauty, and Christ is most beautiful, so let us use every syllable of our words to paint the colors of His excellency in the minds of our hearers. It would be a shame to do otherwise.

The Monday evening started like any other. However, when my husband called his work to say he was running late, the response was unlike any other. His supervisor, who doesn’t work the same shift, answered. He requested that Jack arrive as soon as possible. So my husband hurried to get ready and jokingly said as he left, “I hope they aren’t closing us down.”

When Jack arrived that night around 11 p.m., there were several new faces: two vice presidents, a representative from human resources and the local ops manager. They came to communicate the company’s decision to close the Dallas operations. Their plan involved mostly severance packages and a few transfer positions.

Within a month, my husband was offered, and accepted, a relocation package to Atlanta. He packed his bags and headed east – alone. Our son is a senior in high school, so he and I stayed behind in Dallas to finish out the school year. Our small family was now divided by 800 miles.

Our lives changed on a dime that night. The company’s decision did not just affect our lives and the lives of my husband’s co-workers but also those of our families, friends, livelihoods and communities. My husband left his family to pursue work. Our son will leave either his friends or his family to pursue his college education. I will leave my job of a decade, my ministry and most importantly the people I love.

I have established roots in this place. My life intertwined with so many others. It happened innocently and over time. It happened while we were shopping and working. We got to know each other through studying the Bible and serving on mission trips. We enjoyed Saturday afternoons living next door to one another and watching our kids play baseball. We grew simply by seeing each other every day at the Chick-fil-A drive-thru.

These relationships aren’t a simple mix. They’re not easily unwound or undone. Our lives are forever marked by one another. We are changed because we have shared our innermost thoughts and emotions. We have worked alongside each other for a common purpose. We have exchanged lighthearted, free-spirited bursts of laughter and excitement. We have sat in shock and grief as we have mourned those we have loved and lost on this earth. We have shared sadness, transitions, marriages, births and tears. We have shared in the Lord’s Supper, tasting His goodness. We have worshiped Him mightily throughout it all. Our moments have been filled with the grace and presence of our Lord. It is that which strengthens our bond to the point it cannot be broken.

It struck me recently that I may never see many of these people again. When I drive down I-20 and head east for Georgia, it may be the last time our earthly lives cross. There is a sadness to this reality that leads me longing to do what is comfortable and seemingly secure. But I have been called to leave what I love.

When I consider this idea, I think of what Jesus might have felt or thought as He sat in the Garden of Gethsemane. He was preparing to leave behind the 12 men he had walked closely with, ministered to and with, cared for, knew personally and intimately and loved. He was leaving behind his relationships, submitting His will to the will of the Father. I am not comparing my leaving to our Lord’s, but I take solace in knowing that He knows what it’s like to leave.

I also know that there is hope – a hope that exists because He did leave. He left behind this earth in His death, but He defeated death in His resurrection. One day He will return, and we as fellow believers will see each other once again. We are stuck with each other. Our common faith in God, the bond that strengthens our relationship here on earth, binds us together for eternity. And in that place, our moments will not be spent in sadness or longing but in worship and praise of our King.

You never really leave those you love. Until I see you again, wherever that may be, may the Lord bless you and keep you; may He make His face shine upon thee and give thee peace.

Summer is fast approaching! For many of you, the next few months will be filled with travel, adventure and increased opportunities to spend time together as a family. As you begin to think about and plan how you will spend the next few months, we’d like to once again present you with the Summer Family Activity Book. This resource gives you ideas on how to be intentional with your time together as a family.

Whether you’re hanging out at home, traveling across the country or running errands around town, there is no shortage of opportunities to help your children see the things of the Lord. Our hope is to help you see and take advantage of these moments. We have divided the activities and devotionals in this resource into four sections:

• Set a Rhythm – Your family can do these activities repeatedly and consistently throughout the summer. Some of them will help you put things in place to establish a routine for your family. Others will help you think about ways to be missional – intentionally connecting with people in your community whom you interact with on a consistent basis.
• At Home – Many of these include a devotional at the end that will help your kids make a connection between the activity and a truth from Scripture.
• Out and About – This section provides ways to be intentional with outings around town you take as a family (shopping, going to the park, etc.).
• On the Way – These activities can be done as your family travels long distances or vacations – whether it’s by land, air or sea.

Many of the activities included in this year’s edition are the same. We updated the reading plan for beginning, intermediate and advanced elementary-age readers and expanded the list of resources.

Enjoy the next few months. We love you and are praying for a summer that draws your family closer together and closer to Jesus.

Blessings,

The Village Church Children’s Ministry Staff

Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her. “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.” Proverbs 31:28-29

These are some pretty big shoes to fill. Women throughout Christian history have aspired to emulate this woman’s behavior. And the character qualities beneath the behavior give us insight into how she was able to live such a significant life, particularly in how the text primarily describes her as “excellent.”

The word “excellent” (used in verses 10 and 29) comes from the Hebrew word chayil, which means (are you ready for this?) wealth, virtue, valor, strength, mighty power and substance. This term is actually used in the Old Testament to talk about strong armies and warhorses. Webster’s Dictionary defines excellent as “archaic, superior, very good of its kind.”

The kind of strength and virtue required to fulfill the call of a godly wife and mother hits a new level with this definition. I can do an “excellent” job with my tasks. People can tell me I keep a good house and my kids behave in public. But virtue and valor are character qualities that rise far beyond responsible behavior.

So how do I cultivate excellence in my life?

As a mother, I get tired. Really tired. When my family asks me what I want for Mother’s Day, I usually tell them I want a day off. But the Bible tells us the excellent wife is incredibly strong and prepared for many difficult tasks on a moment’s notice.

Where do I get that strength?

Ephesians 3:20-21 says, “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” The power that raised Christ from the dead lives inside us! We must draw from His strength in order to face the daily challenges of motherhood. This means we fall at His feet every day in submission to His will, begging Him for the daily bread of His power. It means we feed off Scripture to strengthen us.

This kind of strength is also unafraid in the face of trial. Verse 25 says, “Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.” When trouble comes, she remains steadfast and unmoved. I’ve watched over the past couple of months as godly women in my life stand unmoved in the face of horrific trials, and I’ve wondered if I could do the same. Here’s the truth, though: The foundation on which I stand cannot be shaken. Psalm 73:26 says, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” So even when my flesh fails (and it will), God remains strong. As mothers, we must continually fix our eyes on Jesus in the face of trials, knowing He sustains us with His grace.

Do you have what it takes to be an excellent mother? I sure don’t. That’s why I need my Savior. May we run into His arms this Mother’s Day and allow Him to clothe us with strength and dignity.

“What we thought was a cyst is actually a rare, locally aggressive but non-metastasizing, malignant tumor.”

It was a normal Friday afternoon, relaxing with my family, taking our kids on a public transit day and preparing for our move to Chicago when the call came. Hands shaking, heart pounding and sweat beads forming, the only words I heard were “malignant tumor.” It turned out to be a minor sweat gland tumor, but in that moment I didn’t know.

I began experiencing depths of fear and confusion I’d never known. In my head I kept repeating, “I want to grow old with my wife; I want to watch my kids grow up.”

Then came Sunday.

As I led communion at the morning worship services, I talked to a couple thousand people about the hope we have in Jesus, the life-transforming power of His death and resurrection, and how the power of death will one day be brought to its final resting place. I said it and tried to believe it.

Then came the 5 p.m. service.

The same words came out of my mouth, but this time it was different. I walked off the stage barely able to hold myself together, and as we began singing, I exploded into tears.

I just kept thinking, “I believe this, I believe this, I believe this.” I believe no matter how minor or how major this turns out to be, it cannot take Jesus away from me.

In the following weeks, the Lord rooted up idols and educated me in realities that I thought I knew but ultimately didn’t. 

I learned there is no such thing as “minor” when it’s in your own body.

I learned how much I love waking up next to my wife and saying to my kids, “I love being your daddy” every day.

I learned pastors need pastors.

I learned cash will never stand up to cancer, only Jesus does.

I learned the depth of relationships in my life, how much I need the Church, and how there is no safer place for my soul than with Jesus experienced in the community of Christ.

I learned that too much of my hope is still in this life and I need the Lord to purge me and draw me deeper into Jesus.

Most of all I learned that in the darkest nights, when the love of my wife, children and church are unable to soothe the anxiety of my soul, Romans 8 is still true. “All things” are making me like Jesus, and nothing, not “death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Tumors, minor and major, are pawns in the hand of God – using tragic results of a fallen world to redeem us from the tragedy of the Fall, to expose shallow temporary hopes and invite us into deeper rivers.

If you are in the middle of a season like this, take comfort and know Romans 8 is for you. God is doing whatever necessary to flourish the gospel in your life today.

God is preparing you for your eternal years. He is purging you of fleeting pleasures that minimize joy and is drawing you into deeper pleasure in Jesus.

Death is not our friend: It is the last enemy that will be conquered. Until Christ returns to put death to death, it has a role to play. Its role is to remind us of the temporality of our lives, the uselessness of trivial pleasures and to anchor our hearts in Jesus.

I knew this before, but I know it now.

What is the difference between condemnation and conviction? I have seen a tremendous amount of confusion within the body of Christ on this question. This misunderstanding can have dangerous implications for believers when it comes to repentance of sin, mortification of sin and freedom from sin.

Romans 8:1 says, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Paul references what Christ absorbed through His life, death and resurrection. We, as believers, are no longer under the penalty of death and are reconciled to God because of Christ’s atoning work.

Christ bore our sins so that we might have life (1 Pet. 2:24), and it pleased the Lord to crush Him (Isa. 53:5-10). We have a great hope and assurance because the fatalistic nature of the flesh no longer determines us. Grace is extended to the elect through the condemnation put on Christ.

In knowing this reality, we tend to resent the Spirit’s convicting of sin because we wrongly mistake it for condemnation. The enemy, who comes to kill, steal and destroy, bends and contorts the truth to bring about shame, hiding and a resistance to repentance in our lives.

This is unfortunate because, while condemnation has been absorbed by Christ, conviction leads us toward life and intimacy with the Father. It is a gift from the Lord, shedding light on the dark places of our hearts where sin remains and beckoning us to respond in repentance.

Yet how do we discern between the loving, graceful conviction of the Holy Spirit and the contorted, deceitful distortions of condemnation from the enemy and our flesh?

Here are some ways to distinguish between the two:

1. Conviction might taste bitter to the tongue, but is sweet to the soul. God leads us toward life in Him even if it stings (Ps. 30:5).
2. Condemnation includes a stench of death and hopelessness (Rom. 8:2).
3. Conviction, though pointed at times, lightens the heart and soul of a person (Rom. 2:4).
4. Condemnation is overbearing and heavy upon the soul. It crushes because hope released from that burden falls square on the shoulders of something or someone other than the atoning work of Christ (Rom. 5:9).
5. In conviction, God’s love is seen very clearly. This means it is utterly inspired by love.
6. Condemnation turns everything inward toward self. So, rather than looking to the Lord for covering, provision and redemption, we look to self early and often in our shame and self-pity.

Those in Christ have been given the Holy Spirit to lead us into more and more holiness. Conviction is one of God’s sweetest gifts to His children. Rest in His grace and walk in His glorious light! Through conviction by the Holy Spirit, God both saves and sanctifies His children.

You’d be hard pressed to find someone who hasn’t heard about the Newtown shooting. On December 14, 2012, 20-year-old Adam Lanza entered Sandy Hook Elementary School and shot and killed 20 children and six teachers before taking his own life. It is a gruesome tale that has induced grief and outrage on a national level.

You may be less familiar with the Kermit Gosnell murders. Gosnell, a long-time abortion provider, was arrested in 2011 on eight counts of murder. The charges include an adult female patient who died in his clinic and seven infants whom, born alive after botched abortions, he killed by severing their spinal cords with a pair of rusty scissors. As the trial continues, we’ve heard testimonies of his practice that are so horrific they’ll here pass without mention.

These atrocities are alike in their gruesome, senseless slaughter of vulnerable children and potential to provoke policy change, but compared to Newtown, Gosnell has received little national media coverage. Where Newtown has quickly gotten the gears of political machines moving, Gosnell has yet to gain social traction. Still, whether the media cares or not and whether the cases receive the same level of cultural scrutiny, the Church can’t shirk the opportunity to be reverently vocal about where we stand on life and liberty.

What Gosnell and Newtown Have in Common

While both of these stories are horrific beyond measure, we can acknowledge that they are not identical. They do, however, have some very interesting commonalities worthy of discussion.

Both events strike a chord in a politically volatile arena where two polarized and exceedingly entrenched viewpoints have had their battle lines clearly drawn for years – Newtown in the gun rights dispute and Gosnell in the abortion debate. In each of these cases, the opposing perspectives are so thoroughly dug in that it would take a profoundly unnerving event to unsettle them enough to reconsider their objectivity – events like those of Newtown and Gosnell.

Both cases originated in legality. Lanza used guns that were obtained legally by his mother, and Gosnell was legally licensed to perform abortions. In both cases, what began legally ended horrifically. Incidents this brutal can call into question whether the allowances our nation granted, the right to bear arms and the right to an abortion, should be reconsidered.

What Gosnell and Newtown Do Not Have in Common

On the one hand, given the visible devastation in Newtown, there has been significant political push to readdress gun rights and the process by which people obtain guns. Merited or not, Lanza’s crime pushed the debate to a bigger national stage than it’s had in years.

On the other hand, since the Gosnell case is one of faceless, nameless victims, there has been a lack of national consciousness and no significant sway of public opinion on abortion. There’s no new perceivable outcry to see if the murders that Gosnell committed outside the womb equal those absolved inside the womb.

The Response of the Church

I wish that it could be said of the Gosnell case and not just Newtown that these crimes were so heinous that they got the American people, and therefore their representatives, spurred into rethinking our legislation in a concerted effort to make sure something this atrocious could never happen again. Yet it’s simply not the case.

And what does this say about our culture? How far have we gone wrong? What level of depravity have we reached when such a grotesque event can affect us so little?

As bleak as the situation may seem, we as the Church of the living Christ must not wane. We can never shy away from an opportunity to enter into a conversation about abortion with loving tenacity, whether it be with neighbors, strangers or policymakers. The people of God need to speak up on behalf of the unnamed, unwanted unborn. The Gosnell trial affords us the opportunity to have a valuable dialogue right now.

My wife and I just told our 9-year-old daughter, Katherine, that all her hair is going to fall out. She has been growing it out since she was 3, and it has been a source of joy for her over the years. I held her hand and stroked her head as she cried and told her how sorry I was. Watching her weep, my wife and I then broke down in tears ourselves.

As I knelt beside my daughter’s hospital bed, I dropped my head into her lap, and my heart broke. The tears flowed quickly as I thought of how badly I wanted to make this situation go away. After a few moments, I felt her small hand rest on the back of my head.

“It’s okay Daddy. We can trust God with this.”

“I know baby girl, I just hate this and I wish I could take it away from you.”

“It’s for God’s glory, Daddy.”

My daughter preached the gospel to me, and I needed to hear it. My sinful heart is prone to wander, and the Lord graciously used my daughter to remind me that He is sovereign and trustworthy. What a sweet gift.

In contemplating the events and circumstances of the last week, my mind continually returns to the same thing: sin. Death exists because of it. Wars and crime persist because of it. Marriages break because of it. My daughter has a cancer because of it.

I am not saying that Katherine’s cancer is God’s punitive response to her sin. She is indeed a sinner, but she hasn’t been given a tumor for her sins. Her cancer is a result of the fall – Adam’s sin in the Garden broke the world and fractured every aspect of it.

Adam and Eve were created in perfection and deemed by God to be very good. They were created to glorify God by enjoying Him forever, and they rebelled against that purpose, trying to put themselves in God’s place. This sin passed on to all humanity, excluding Christ, and spreads from one generation to the next.

My daughter’s cancer is a clear picture of this perversion and brokenness. God created a cell in the muscle tissue of Katherine’s eye to help it move, but the tissue rebelled and struck out on its own, forsaking the purpose for which it was created. It passed on its rebellion to subsequent generations of muscle cells, growing into a tumor that has now pushed its way into the place that is supposed to be occupied by the very thing it was created to serve.

The good news is that these problems have a solution. While we are separated from God because of Adam’s sin, Jesus Christ has made a way for us to be reconciled to the Father through His life, death and resurrection. He alone defeated sin and death and promised to bring restoration to all the brokenness of this world, including cancer, when He returns.

My daughter’s hope is built on this good news. The Spirit of God has revealed Himself to her, and because she believes on Jesus and calls him Lord and Savior, Katherine can rest in the reality that she has not been given a tumor for her sins – Jesus truly paid it all. Her hair will fall out, and her body will be weary, but her cancer will never overshadow the beauty, wonder and power of the cross.

This weekend is Family Worship Weekend at The Village. It is a time for children in 1st grade and older to join us as we worship the Lord together.

There is something powerful about togetherness. Doing things with other people disarms the fear and inherent vulnerability that comes from being on our own.

Most of our favorite memories involve other people. The pictures framed and on display in our homes include the family and friends God has given us to share in the sweetest and most bitter moments of life.

We are hard-wired for relationship, and there is a distinct togetherness that marks the Christian community because our fellowship is intended to image the triune God. And as simple as it sounds, an essential part of togetherness is simply doing things…together. Shared experiences knit our hearts together, and through them we create a history with one another.

But we often find ourselves drifting away from the power of togetherness.

It isn’t uncommon, even within families, for a group of individuals to sit in the same room for hours without interacting. Instead of engaging in meaningful conversations that help us learn from one another and grow together, our hearts and minds are often transported to an independent world of screens and apps and online “friendships.”

Likewise, within our church gatherings, we often focus so much on our individual relationship and experience with the Lord that we lose sight of our corporate identity.

We need to rediscover the beauty and power of togetherness, both within our families and church, and Family Worship Weekend gives us a special time to do just that.

Worshiping together is one way we create a common history as the people of God, and this weekend we will be joined by some of the youngest in our church body. Family Worship Weekend creates an opportunity for us to train our children to value this shared history, both as members of our immediate families and the family of God.

As we gather together this weekend to sing songs of affection to the Lord, hear the excellencies of Jesus proclaimed from the Scriptures and remember the sufficiency of His sacrifice through communion, let’s pay particular attention to the fact that as we do all these things, we are putting on display the unique togetherness of Christian community.

We’ve identified the theme of opposition in our recent study of Nehemiah, leading me to dust off an old story about this very theme. The novel is Witch Wood, a classic about two kingdoms at war: the kingdom of God and the kingdom of darkness.

Written by Scottish author James Buchan, Witch Wood is a story about fighting the good fight and standing on the promises of God amid hostility and conflict. It helps us see the nuances of opposition through a gospel lense.

Set in the 1600s, Witch Wood centers on David Sempill, a young, idealistic pastor who arrives in the rural Scottish town of Woodilee to assume his first pastorate. He has great expectations for ministry. He sings as he first approaches his parish and weeps with worshipful joy when he first sits down in his study closet.

Yet a foreshadowing comes to David in the words of one of the townspeople: “You see the ills of the land and make haste to redd (bring order to) them, but you have no great notion of what [evil] is possible.”

What follows is a minister’s journey from naiveté to experience. David‘s sermons and calls for repentance go unheeded by his congregation. He struggles constantly against his own sin, questioning the promises of God. His ministry dreams dashed upon the rock of reality, he considers fleeing the church. David becomes a fully formed character with virtues propelled by God and vices that he knows must be constantly surrendered to God.

David then learns that some in his congregation are stealing away into the nearby woods to revel in pagan rituals. Their identities remain a mystery, but David knows they sit among the worship services and elder board. His righteous anger rages against the wickedness and hypocrisy.

In his fight against this pagan worship, David leans into the promise of God that his fight is not of flesh and blood, but of the principalities and powers in this dark world. Even in his weaknesses, David fights to surrender himself to God and to persevere despite physical and spiritual opposition. He believes in his Father’s power to overcome evil and the call on his life to “hate what is evil and love what is good.”

David’s fight for the promises of God leads to a myriad of ministry disappointments: He is shunned, attacked, censured, neglected and blamed. As one reviewer states, “making a clear allusion to the ministry of Jesus Christ, the narrator avers that although [David] had the ‘publican and sinners’ on his side, ‘the Pharisees and scribes were against him.’”

This leads to a climactic encounter with the head elder who has been practicing the pagan rituals. David drags him into the wood, pleading with him to make a final choice between God and the devil.

Eventually, David’s anger turns to meekness as he is stripped of all his worldly gain. He comes to embody the cost of Christian ministry and stands as example to us all as he shines light in the darkness of the wood by displaying Christ’s love and fervor in sacrificing himself for the ungodly, certain of God’s promises.

Then the Lord rained on Sodom and Gomorrah sulfur and fire from the Lord out of heaven. And he overthrew those cities, and all the valley, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground. But Lot's wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt. Genesis 19: 24-26

Everyone has a past. Some have logged spectacular moral failures, while others have managed to confine sins to less horrifying categories. The longer we know Christ, the more we come to realize that all sin is spectacular when measured against the plumb line of God’s holiness. All sin is a spectacular exercise in self-focus and self-worship.

Saving faith frees us from sin’s power – it enables us to choose what God wants over what we want, and over time it aligns our wants with His. Instead of wanting to make much of ourselves, we learn to want to make much of our Maker. But if we are honest, we still harbor places of self-worship in our heart of hearts. As we get better at setting aside one area of sin, we often get better at concealing another. As much as we long to move forward in grace, we find that our past still pulls at us. But it is not enough to recognize and regret our sin: To leave it behind, we must learn to hate it.

And this is where I begin to think about Lot’s wife. You remember her – raised a family in a city known for its sexual depravity, had to be physically dragged out of her hometown to avoid its imminent destruction, checked her rear-view mirror and, presto-change-o, turned into your favorite popcorn flavoring. Pretty high up there on the “Weird Stories of the Bible” list.

But when we look at it closer, her brief story has much to teach. The sense of the phrase, “But Lot’s wife…looked back,” is that she regarded, considered, paid attention to. In other words, dragged free of her life of self-focus and set well on her way to freedom, Lot’s wife looked longingly and lingeringly on her past. Even as it was being consumed by the fiery wrath of God.

I think that a clue to understanding her demise lies in what she was turned into. God could have ended her life in any way, converted her to or covered her in any substance. But Genesis tells us specifically that she became a pillar of salt. To the modern ear, salt is a reference to a popular seasoning, but that’s because we enjoy the benefits of refrigeration. For thousands of years, the primary function of salt was not to season but to preserve – an apt metaphor for Mrs. Lot.

What if God had shown mercy to Lot’s wife? What if she had been allowed to flee the wickedness of Sodom to a better place, all the time harboring in her heart a love for her past? The virus of Sodom’s wickedness would have gone with her to her new home, preserved deep within her, waiting its chance to emerge and infect other lives. But rather than allowing her to preserve the cherished memory of Sodom in a new place, God preserved her as a pillar of salt. She became a memorial for the preservation of evil, a warning to all who might see her frozen in her half-turned gaze of longing.

I am Lot’s wife. I preserve deep within me a memory of sin savored in years past. I see my sin, but I do not hate it. I linger on the idea of re-engaging it, even in my new-found freedom. And I risk spreading it to the lives of those around me. God have mercy.

If your spiritual gaze were frozen at this instant, on what would it be fixed? Every day is a choice to look forward toward life-giving grace or backward toward a sin-saturated death. Will you choose self-focus or God-focus? How will you be memorialized? As someone who preserved the pleasures of sin or the profit of sanctification?

My prayer is that the memory of our past sins would be laced with the pungent odor of the fires of Sodom – the reek of God’s wrath exterminating the godlessness of our former days, the aroma of God’s grace pointing us toward new life, eyes fixed on our Savior.

Remember Lot's wife. Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will keep it. Luke 17:32-33

In celebration of our new album, Raging Strong, we gathered on March 22 for a night of worship at The Door in Deep Ellum.

God, as triune Three-in-One, created humans in His image as persons-in-relation – forever confronted with differences among them. Sameness, the failure to recognize differences, therefore does not capture God’s heart for creation and His communitarian nature.

Diversity is at the core of a relational creation that glorifies God. Differences honor God in that they make for better relationships – and better humans.

Better at Relationships

Of course, not all relationships honor God as they could – some not at all. According to Romans 1, those with darkened hearts serve unrelational gods and create idols of homogeneity. Practicing homosexuals do away with valuable differences, instead worshiping the sameness of self. The robust diversity in gender is purposeful. If friendship sharpens dull iron, the differences in gender make us razor-like. The work is the value – better relationships make better humans. 

The institution of marriage thus becomes the arena for that opposite-gendered relationship to develop, while same-sex marriage negates the opportunity to develop relationally – humanly.

Better at Beauty

As humans create culture, filling, subduing and ruling the world according to God’s Genesis mandate, they form social groups around cultural commonalities. Like the value-laden work involved in male-female relationships, crossing cultural barriers not only sharpens but also beautifies.

God’s creativity explodes in and through cultural expression. Diversity, in all its forms, not only makes people more like God in developing relationships but also opens up a life of joy and worship.

Kingdom Diversity

If the cosmos were perfectly created to glorify God, then its original form gives us clues to an ideal order. Before sin, the first couple flourished relationally. A future form, then, in the consummated kingdom’s recreated cosmos must also flourish relationally.

The multitude before the throne in Revelation 7:9 gives us a taste of that future multicultural celebration. We can only imagine the beauty of a thousand ethnicities showing their colors. Isaiah describes a stately procession from across the globe, kings bringing not just their wealth but also their cultural accomplishments into the kingdom (Isa. 60:1-22). John saw, “by its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it…they will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations” (Rev. 21:24, 26). Perhaps it will be something like the opening ceremonies of the Olympics that crescendos with a choreographed falling-on-faces before Christ.

Salad Bowls Not Melting Pots

While much has been accomplished since MLK famously said, “The most segregated hour of Christian America is eleven o'clock on Sunday morning,” in many places, sameness still rules. There are evangelicals answering the call. Hundreds of churches are opening their doors out into their diverse neighborhoods, and in doing so they are finding the complexities of cultural accommodation. Should a multicultural church merely reflect the demographics of the local context? Is overreaching necessary until some balance is met? Can a church be all things to all cultures?

One thing is clear: Cultures are not to be demolished. If diversity makes better people, both in their ability to love and to enjoy creaturely reality, then encouraging diversity in order to grow one super-culture is not reflective of God’s purposes. Because cultural distinction will remain in the future kingdom, any present attempt to strip away or assimilate the unique elements of minority cultures will be less glorious.

Sociologists, aware of the potential damage, have begun to speak of multiculturalism rather than assimilation, “salad bowls” rather than “melting pots.” The national conversation includes those of a dual citizenry that gives primacy to national allegiance while continuing to practice indigenous traditions. Christians are familiar with dual citizenry, so perhaps our churches should follow a similar pattern. Followers of Christ have an identity and allegiance. Kingdom principles are given priority without forgoing cultural distinctions of tribe, tongue and nation.

Heaven is not a melting pot. Ingredients can and should be added to the bowl without melting away or forming one new ingredient. Churches should reflect heaven’s inclusion without demolition and seek to be diverse for the sake of better relationships and for the enjoyment of cultural beauty. Christians, of all people, should be better humans.

Though it is hard to believe, the current elder board has now been together for five years. We have been blessed with unity, accountability, balance and a sincere love for one another. Additions within the last few years include Lee Lewis, our Fort Worth campus pastor, and Wes Searcy, a member of the Flower Mound campus.

As you may or may not know, there are guidelines within the constitution that require some changes that you will begin to see and hear about, so I wanted to give you some advance notice regarding why these changes are coming.

1. Our constitution/bylaws require us to maintain a majority of non-staff elders as compared to elders who are paid employees and part of our executive staff. With the addition of Fort Worth, we are in need of two additional non-staff elders.
2. Elders of The Village are asked to serve terms from 5 to 8 years. To ensure there is not a wholesale change of the board composition, original board members will begin rotating off this year. Rik Massengale and Richard McFarland have both volunteered to step down from the board this year, requiring two replacements positions. Their roles will most likely end in the fall, once their replacements have been affirmed and begun serving.

So, if you are keeping track, there will be four new elders, and two current elders will be leaving the board. At the end of the year, the elder room will include seven staff elders and eight non-staff elders.

In the last six months, the elders have been engaged in vetting several men who are being considered for eldership. It is by design a long and slow process that will afford candidates and current elders time to ensure the calling, competency and character of these men are compatible with the culture of the elder room.

In the next few months, you will begin to be introduced to those men who have successfully completed the process and agreed to be considered for this role. Consistent with our constitution, these men will be presented to the body for consideration, and you will be asked to communicate to any of our existing elders any reason any of these men should not be considered for eldership. If after 30 days there are no objections raised regarding any of the men, they will be appointed to the role of elder. No one will be accepted into the new role until any matter raised has been fully investigated and resolved.

We would appreciate your prayers for the men being considered and for those continuing to serve. Also, if you know Rik or Dr. McFarland, please thank them for the years of service.

Thanks for your prayers and support!

According to Christian tradition, Jesus died on Good Friday around 3 p.m. – the ninth hour of the day (Matt. 27:45-46; Mark 15:33-34; Luke 23:44). He was buried at about 6 p.m. (Luke 23:54), and then on Sunday, at dawn, Jesus rose from the dead. Yet, according to Matthew 12:40, Jesus said, “For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.”

How then can it be said that Jesus was in the tomb for three days and three nights when the tradition accounts for about 36 hours?

How do we get three days and three nights out of one day and two nights?

To answer these questions, some have argued for a crucifixion on Wednesday or Thursday. But neither yields three complete 24-hour days as Jesus died around 3 p.m. and rose around 6 a.m. The only way to get an exact 24-hour period is to have Jesus die and rise at the exact same time, yet the biblical witness does not support this theory.

Does this seeming contradiction dismiss the validity and authority of Scripture? Does it put the nail in the coffin for the inerrancy of Scripture? Or does a resolution surface upon further study? And how can we make sure not to miss Jesus’ point in the sign of Jonah?

A Jewish Idiom

The key to resolving the issue lies in an understanding of Jewish idioms. The Jewish idiomatic phrase, “three days and three nights” includes enough linguistic flexibility to cover a period of time from Friday evening to Sunday morning. Historically, the phrase was used to distinguish the daytime (dawn to dusk) sense of the word “day” from the 24-hour cycle sense of the word “day.” So if a writer wanted to refer to parts of a 24-hour period and not just the daytime aspect of the term “day,” that person would use the Jewish idiom, “a day and a night.”

In Jewish thought, a day referred to the whole 24-hour period or a part of the day (1 Sam. 30:12-13; 2 Chron. 10:5, 12; Esther 4:1; 5:1). So, as D.A. Carson points out in the Expositors Bible Commentary, the phrase “three days and three nights” cannot mean more than three full days, but it can refer to a combination of any part of three separate days. And since Christ remained dead for a portion of three 24-hour days – Friday, Saturday and Sunday – it would be correct to express the account by saying, “three days and three nights.”

To understand this passage, we have to think about the concept of time in the Jewish sense, not in our 21^st century Western sense.

A Heart Problem

And more than a problem of understanding Jewish idioms, we often have a heart problem that Jesus addresses in Matthew 12:40. Jesus was dealing with people who had already made up their minds and hearts about Him. He was a threat to their status and power. The intellectuals and the religious demanded a sign from Jesus under the false pretense of a desire to believe.

In principle, there is nothing wrong with a desire for a sign from God. Given the right motive of faith, a desire to learn and grow, the Lord can use a sign to stir up belief. When we request a sign out of this motivation, we are content to wait on the Lord for His answer. But when we request or demand a sign out of a heart settled on unbelief, we still won’t be convinced by a sign because of our stubbornness.

A mere sign cannot overcome committed unbelief, especially since the Lord has given an adequate sign for us to believe, namely the resurrection of His Son. In the case of a committed hardened heart, it is unlikely that any sign would be sufficient to cause change.

Jesus knew even in Matthew 12 that the climax of His life on earth would come with His death, burial and resurrection. Because He was delivered from death, we can trust what He said.

So are you coming to the “problematic” Scriptures with faith seeking to understand or are you coming to these texts with a heart bent toward unbelief? Those listening to Jesus that day missed the point, and, tragically, many today search the Scriptures to find errors instead of searching the Scriptures to find Jesus, who alone is able to calm the ever searching heart.

Why do I love Teddy Roosevelt? Wait. Let me rephrase the question. Why wouldn’t I love Teddy Roosevelt? His biography reads like a Greek epic. Stories of self-sacrifice and manhood with mythical proportions fill each page. Like a 19th-century Odysseus, he towered as an American hero: muscle, clenched teeth and grit.

As a volunteer sheriff, he once ventured five weeks in the harsh winter to run down a group of bandits. He stormed the hills of Cuba by horse on the front lines of an invasion. He hunted elephants, bears and tigers. A mountain lion once attacked his dog in Colorado, and he killed it with his son’s pocketknife. He had a tumor removed from his leg and, refusing anesthetics, he asked only for a glass of water.

He was once shot in front of a hotel on his way to a campaign speech. The bullet lodged between his ribs, and after finding no blood in his mouth, he assumed his lungs weren’t bleeding. He walked to the podium and exclaimed, “I have just been shot, but it takes more than that to kill a bull moose!” The bullet stayed lodged in his chest for the rest of his life.

Teddy did all this while reading multiple books a day and becoming fluent in several languages.

All these stories have chiseled Teddy’s face into the hard stone of Mount Rushmore. History remembers and loves this Teddy. So do I. But there is something that I didn’t learn from Teddy. He never taught me how to grieve.

Teddy’s Sorrow

At age 26, Roosevelt sat on the night train between Albany and New York City where the darkness of the fog foreshadowed the tragedy that waited. His wife and mother were both gravely ill in New York. Only two days removed from giving birth to their first child, his 23-year-old wife, Alice, was dying of liver failure. Within 36 hours, Teddy lost both his wife and mother.

Although he faithfully kept a journal every day, this day’s entry was simply marked by an “X.” It reads, “The light has gone out of my life.” For the rest of his life, he refused to discuss his wife or mention her name again. She was not referenced in his journal or even remembered in his autobiography. His grief was so suppressed that he would not even speak to his daughter about the memory of her mother. He internalized the pain of her memory until his death.

He could handle well the pain of a bullet, but not a broken heart. For a man who despised cowardice, his inability or unwillingness to grapple with grief was his tragic flaw. He thought manly courage and vulnerability were mutually exclusive, that bravery never publicly acknowledges pain or invites others into sorrow.

But what I didn’t learn from Teddy, I learned from Jesus.

Jesus in the Garden

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus agonized over the impending pain of the cross. Mark describes Him as “greatly distressed and troubled” (Mark 14:33). Jesus told the disciples candidly, “My soul is very sorrowful.” Jesus Christ acknowledged grief to His disciples and us – His children.

In agony He sought the help of another, His perfect Father. As the perfectly heroic, perfectly courageous Son of God, He asked for help. Jesus readily acknowledged vulnerability. For Him, strength came by depending on His Father, publicly acknowledging pain and entrusting Himself to His Father’s care. In the presence of His closest friends, He was heard and cared for, as the Father sent angels to minister to Him.

Are you missing the courage of dependence? Do you, like Teddy, avoid acknowledging pain, hoping to forever internalize that sorrow which Jesus Himself acknowledged? Internalized sorrow over a lifetime will do far more damage than a bullet. Remember Jesus. The same Father He depended on offers Himself to you. Remember that He became weak so that we in Him could become strong.

“Mom, Dad, I really need a cellphone.” If you haven’t heard this statement, it’s coming. Recent stats reveal that 75% of teens (12-17) have cellphones. The teenage years seem to be the prime age that parents give `their children a phone.

When will you give your child a cellphone or another mobile device? Have you thought about this question? Have you considered how you will answer and parent through it?

Here are three tips to consider as you navigate through the process:

1. Adopt family technology guidelines.

As parents, decide on guidelines and boundaries for how technology will be used in your home. Think, pray and talk about your expectations before handing your child a cellphone or mobile device. Communicate the guidelines from the beginning. This will help everyone walk forward with a clear understanding of the shared values, expectations and consequences.

It’s also vital that you not only set clear guidelines but that you model the behavior you expect. If you check your phone at every red light, you are saying that it’s okay to fill every empty moment by consuming something from the online world. If you don’t want your child on their cellphone during dinner or other quality family time, you must be willing to put your phone away, as well.

One great thing that can come from the responsibility of a cellphone is a rite of passage. You can use the moment as a milestone and teaching opportunity, a significant step toward maturity and adulthood. Make it a special moment by taking your child out to dinner and talking through the expectations that come with the new device.

Just a quick Google search will bring up dozens of great cellphone rules and guidelines that you can adapt and fashion into your own.

2. Be the first word on everything.

Access to the Internet opens doors to many things, especially sex and relationships. Don’t take the risk of your child being introduced to something for the first time because you haven’t already discussed or introduced the topic. There is a unique authority that accompanies the person who first introduces and educates someone on a given topic. Don’t wait for someone else to be that person. Be the first word to your child.

If you unlock the door to the Internet and social media, consider what your child might purposefully or accidentally be exposed to and warn them of it. Open the door to conversation and confession by telling your child to come to you and tell you if they come across anything explicit, pornographic or questionable. Share that your hope is not to punish but, instead, to provide a safe place to run to when temptation or danger comes.

3. Be in your child’s world.

Know what your child is doing, saying and experiencing online. Be clear and firm about your intentions to monitor online and cellphone activity. This takes time and work. I recently spoke to a parent who spends nearly 30 minutes every night going through her child’s cellphone activity. Yes, it’s time consuming, but she has her child present during the entire process and sees it as an opportunity to strengthen their relationship. They talk through each text and post, and the mom has a window into the heart of her child that she might not have otherwise.

A common objection that children give their parents to this rule is that they feel their privacy is threatened. To be honest, it’s not really an issue of privacy because there is nothing private about social media and the Internet. They are really just trying to have a place where they are outside of your authority and supervision. If they honestly want a venue or opportunity for privacy, give them an old-fashioned journal or diary. Be firm about your intentions to monitor everything they do online.

Walk in wisdom towards outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. Colossians 4: 5-6

Throughout Lent and Easter, I often reminiscence about one of our family transitions into a new neighborhood cul-de-sac. When we moved in, the neighbors were welcoming, kind and yet noticeably divided in beliefs and allegiances. A fragmented history unraveled as the family on our left expressed their stony Christian concern toward our unbelieving neighbors across the street. The problem was clear: There was opposition. Our small cul-de-sac lacked compassion, wisdom and unity that only the gospel could bring to rebuild that which was broken.

As sojourners in this fallen world, we’ll experience disagreement in a range of colorful emotions, intellectual jeering and questionable accusations. Like Nehemiah faced opposition from Sanballat and Tobiah in rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem (Neh. 4:1), Scripture affirms that we will experience the enemy’s ambition to pester, taunt, mock and insult us as he did toward Christ.

Although our neighborhood experienced relational conflict and opposition, our hope was to follow Nehemiah and be intentional with our prayer, our time and the relationships surrounding us.

As neighbors do, we talked of work, travel and weekend commitments while raking leaves or through a game of basketball with our sons. On walks or while running, my husband and I prayed for God’s providential hand to stir in all the hearts and homes. When needed, we invited our unbelieving neighbors over for help with different projects, cultivating genuine friendships.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. James 3:17

By grace, this couple who originally took offense to our beliefs grew in a sincere thirst for the heart and character of God.

On one occasion, our two families joined together on their back porch before Easter weekend. Our conversation circled around to the reflection of Lent, the cross and resurrection of Christ. In a direct, confrontational tone, our friend stated, “Well, I would have died on the cross if I had been asked, knowing the great need of mankind.”

After moments of silence and a quick prayer, we turned to the Spirit’s gentle counsel, and I responded: “Jesus Christ was the only perfect, spotless sacrifice for our sins and for all mankind. Scripture speaks about a call within our responsibilities and response to the gospel (Mark 8:34-35). Every day holds a choice for us to deny ‘self,’ take up our cross and follow Christ. To die to pride, selfish gain and live life according to the flesh involves our attention toward the call that ‘whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel will save it.’ This leads to a lifestyle that is described as walking “according to the Spirit.”

By God’s grace, the conversation continued from that point on. We began to meet regularly, reviewing the prophecies and fulfillment of Christ, sharing our personal testimonies and listening to their authentic questions, fears and misunderstandings toward the gospel.

These were sweet years of discipleship in our cul-de-sac as we struggled to navigate through relational conflict and life experiences in celebration, loss, struggles and eventually our transfer out of state.

2 Timothy 2:23-26 provides wisdom for us as ambassadors of Christ as we face resistance: Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will.

Out of opposition, the Lord brings opportunity. He did for His servant Nehemiah, and He will for us as we trust in Him.

Scuba diving and snorkeling are close cousins but have a fundamental difference: depth. And depth defines the experience. Snorkelers enjoy the views as they skim the surface of the water. The colors and sea-life are visible but at a distance. The surface seems safe and natural.

Scuba divers plunge below the surface and experience the life of the sea from a different vantage point. The fish are within an arms length and dart past as others slowly tunnel through the water. They get caught up in the rhythm of the ocean in a new way.

Depth invites one to be immersed in the life of the sea while those who skim the surface only watch vicariously.

I often think about the contrast between skimming the surface of life and daring to go deep. Many times I choose to stay at a safe distance rather than immerse myself in the environment. Sadly, I routinely trade the superficial and shallow for the significant. My lazy heart is the clear culprit in this exchange as I settle for that which is easy and comfortable instead of that which requires effort and intentionality. Over time, the net result is a shallow soul.

One of the challenges before all of us in striving to live in gospel-centered community is certainly our natural proclivity to stay in safe waters. So often we look like a group of snorkelers who are bunched up together peering into the deeper waters but hesitant to dive below.

Our hearts generate a myriad of justifications for why we stay on the surface. It feels more comfortable. Deeper waters present unpredictable challenges. We can’t breathe down there on our own. Control seems like something we possess as we float on top of the water.

But tradeoffs abound. Those of us who voyeuristically hang out on the surface can only hope to see from a distance what is happening in the deep waters below. We don’t experience deeper realities for ourselves; rather, we watch and observe. We are not immersed in the experience but are removed from it.

And don’t confuse depth with complexity. Walking more deeply with the Lord and more deeply with the people of God is not for a certain set of Christian elites. Depth usually has to do more with courageously opening up your heart in vulnerable trust. It means confessing weaknesses. It means bearing one another’s burdens. It means daring to know and be known at a deeper level.

The interesting thing about scuba diving is that it takes some intentional steps, specifically to stay below the surface. Our bodies are naturally buoyant and keep us on the surface. So, scuba divers wear a weight belt to force them down. They override what is natural and comfortable to force themselves below the water.

All of us will have to fight for the deeper waters of faith and community with great intentionality. It doesn’t simply happen. It happens through purposeful intention and grace-driven effort. But the tradeoff is a deeper life.

On the last full day of my teaching career, as my students studied for their finals, I overheard a conversation between two freshman girls that still haunts me. One asked the other, “How many different guys do you think you can have kids with before it’s weird? Like 3 or 4?”

Heartbroken, I asked these girls if they wouldn’t rather wait to have kids until marrying a man who would help raise the children. They scoffed at me and politely informed me that things just aren’t done like that anymore. According to them, they will be fortunate to have a child with a man the courts will force to help pay for the kids. These young women have little or no hope of a marriage or parenting partnership.

I’d like to say they’re wrong. I’d love to write off their opinions as ignorant or naive. I’d love to, but I can’t. According to the U.S. Census, 43% of American children don’t live with their father. That’s over 30,000,000 children. Of babies born last year, 41% were born to unwed mothers. That number climbs to 72% in the African-American community. Those numbers have been climbing, revealing a growing epidemic of fatherlessness in America.

How Fatherlessness Affects Our Society

According to various government agencies and research journals, fatherless children account for:

• 90% of homeless and runaway children
• 71% of pregnant teenagers
• 63% of youth suicides
• 85% of kids who display behavior disorders
• 71% of high school dropouts
• 75% of adolescents undergoing drug treatment
• 85% of youth now in prison

A 2009 study on women with children who choose to abort their newest pregnancy found that the main reason for those abortions was the lack of a father willing to assist in taking care of the new baby. It also stands to reason that if something were to stop the torrent of fathers abandoning their families, many of society’s other plights would be addressed.

If we vigorously surround single moms with love and support, if we gladly become foster and adoptive parents, if we start treating adolescents less like helpless boys and girls and more like soon-to-be-responsible dads and moms, if we become a role model for a fatherless child through Champions of Hope or Big Brothers Big Sisters or The Mentoring Project or Mercy Street or our church’s NextGen department, if we labor for marriage reconciliation and marital health, if we teach our children about the worthwhile strenuous beauty of marriage and we model it, if fathers who aren’t absent shed passivity and commit to fulfilling God’s role for them, if we start to intervene on behalf of the fatherless and prevent future fathers from abandoning their families, then we can positively impact crime, poverty, homelessness, education, suicide, abortion and divorce.

If you’re yearning to be part of something that would unquestionably revolutionize your community, get involved in counteracting and ending fatherlessness.

Scripture’s Compelling Words for Fathers

In the final verses of the last Old Testament book, just before hundreds of years of scriptural silence preceding the birth of Christ, the prophet Malachi gives us this last old testament prophecy:

Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the LORD comes. And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children. Malachi 4:5-6

In the first chronological events of the New Testament, an angel tells Zechariah to expect his wife to give birth to a son. About that son, John the Baptist, the angel issues this proclamation:

He will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children. Luke 1:16-17

How marvelous of God to make the renewal of family relationships a sign of the impending arrival of Christ and the nearness of the kingdom of God. That same turning is exactly what we crave again in our time. Let’s join in praying that God would make himself and His kingdom known among us with a great and marvelous “turning,” both of people’s hearts to the Lord their God and of fathers’ hearts back to their children.

My favorite episode of the classic show Twilight Zone is “The Obsolete Man.” Burgess Meredith plays Romney Wordsworth, a lifelong librarian, reader and believer in God. The totalitarian state under which Mr. Wordsworth lives has eliminated books and claims proof that God doesn’t exist. Thus, he is declared “obsolete” by the state and sentenced to “liquidation.”

In light of the cultural conversation today, I’ve found myself feeling a bit like Mr. Wordsworth. As a belief in God and His decrees in Scripture are increasingly marginalized, even ridiculed, in the public square of discussion, I’ve found myself more than a little discouraged and angsty in the face of opposition.

But God.

He, by His grace, led me to reconsider the first letter of Peter. The apostle aptly calls his audience “elect exiles” (1 Pet. 1:1). This is a theological distinction, not a social one. As spiritual “sojourners” and resident “aliens,” they are called to no longer practice the self-indulgent lifestyle of the surrounding culture but, instead, to actively seek personal holiness and the welfare of the society in which they live (1 Pet. 2:11).

Indeed, we have testament in the Bible and other literature of the period that even as Christians received growing hostility from government and culture, they took part in everything as citizens in order to bless their society through service and love.

The Epistle to Diognetus, a letter from that time, speaks of Christians as benefactors of the city:

They reside in their respective countries, but only as aliens they take part in everything as citizens and put up with everything as foreigners. Every foreign land is their home and every home a foreign land. They find themselves in the flesh, but do not live according to the flesh.

Our first-century brothers and sisters were also perplexed by a culture increasingly hostile to a Christian worldview:

Beloved, do not be surprised by the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. 1 Peter 4:12-14

This call is now ours to accept and live out loud.

Serving a culture that increasingly opposes only works when the people of God “abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Pet. 2:11). We are to wage war not against culture but against personal sin. Only then will we have our separatist tendencies to withdraw from culture confronted and be strengthened to display to all what Francis Schaeffer called “the mark of the Christian,” which is “love and the unity it attests to.”

So the place we find ourselves is not new. As stated by the narrator of that old episode of Twilight Zone, “This is not a new world. It is simply an extension of what began in the old one.” The Fall of Genesis 3 continues to bring suffering and ridicule to all, whether they acknowledge the crumbling of their souls or not. This is where Peter encourages us to “make a [response] to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.”

Fellow sojourners, let us keep loving and finding fullness in the joy of our salvation in Christ. Let the love and unity among us elicit questions and opportunity to respond with the hope of Christ who, despite commentators to the contrary, will never be “the obsolete man.”

If we read the book of Acts and see how Christianity spread across the globe, we see that God has primarily used the creation of churches to spread the gospel. Join us on the weekend of March 9 and 10 as we focus on church planting at The Village and what it means for us to be a church that plants churches that plant churches.

In Genesis 29 we meet the girl nobody wants. Jacob chooses Rachel over Leah because Rachel is beautiful in appearance, and Leah is less than desirable. Laban then looks for an opportunity to pawn off his eldest daughter so that he is not stuck taking care of her. He masterminds a con to get rid of Leah by deceiving the deceiver Jacob, exploiting and transferring his daughter from one man to another.

Leah’s suspicions are confirmed by Jacob and Laban, and her self-image forms: She is unwanted, unloved, undesirable, ugly, hated, worthless. The weight of this verdict presses down on Leah, as she longs to have her husband love her. Though he shows her no affection, Leah looks to Jacob and childbearing to find her identity, meaning, value and purpose.

Amid her affliction the Lord gives Leah a son and she names him Reuben, which sounds like the Hebrew word for “see,” hoping that Jacob might notice her. But her hopes fail, and she names her second son, Simeon, which sounds like the Hebrew word for "hear." She believes the Lord heard that she was hated, and she longs for Jacob to hear her. Nothing changes for Leah, and she gives birth to her third son, Levi, a name that sounds like the Hebrew word for “attach” or “join.” Leah hopes that Jacob will be drawn to her.

Leah should have looked to the Lord for acceptance, heard words of love to her and be drawn to who speaks a better word over children.

Leah turns her focus off Jacob and on the Lord and with her fourth son, Judah. She praises the Lord simply for the provision and gift of a son. Her identity is no longer found in her acceptance by Jacob but in worshiping the LORD. Leah, the unloved wife, finds rest in her identity as a beloved daughter of the LORD. She is finally consoled. Judah’s name sounds like the Hebrew word for “praise.” Leah says, “This time I will praise the Lord.”

Leah finally finds her identity and worth not in physical beauty, a husband or in being a mother, but in the LORD. C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” Leah finally finds her true worth in the Lord.

Though Leah sees herself as insignificant, the Lord uses her for cataclysmic significance. Judah, the son of praise, is the patriarch of the tribe from whom Jesus Christ is eventually born (Matt. 1:3).

Like Leah, many men and women struggle with self-image. We either believe the lie that we are insignificant or the lie that we matter most. These are both expressions of pride. Throughout life we accumulate verdicts that combine to form our self-image.

The English word verdict comes from the Latin term veredictum, which literally means “to say the truth.” A verdict boasts the power to change states of affairs and bring freedom or imprisonment. Our self-image is informed by these perceived truths, and they form a complicated web of affirmations and condemnations, achievements and failures, positives and negatives.

Though we don’t often think about our self-image in terms of verdicts, every time a judgment is passed on us or we accept as truth something about ourselves, we add another layer to our self-image: type A, overachiever, lazy, beautiful, stupid, athletic, intelligent, funny, dumb, incompetent, compassionate, fat, witty, quiet, successful, failure – the list goes on.

But in Christ we become new creations. Because of Christ, a new verdict is passed down on us from God: beloved, significant, son, daughter, forgiven, adopted, redeemed, His. Believers have a new verdict spoken in love from a glorious God, which, by the nature of its weight, should displace all other competing verdicts.

The problem is that we are resistant to change our self-image even when a new beautiful image awaits us. Jesus went on the cross to become worthless so that we might become worthy. Christ became ugly so we could become beautiful. He became insignificant so we could be significant. He became a failure so we could be successful. Jesus became nobody so that we might become somebody.

Church, may we reject all other false verdicts and believe the one true verdict – that we are beloved, adopted children of God, a verdict that sets captives free.