What Christmas Is All About

In It's a Wonderful Life, George Bailey learns that Christmas is about giving and receiving and relationships. "No man is a failure who has friends," Clarence the angel reminds George, who has just had the opportunity, on Christmas Eve, to see what the world would be like if he had never been born.

The experiences of Ebenezer Scrooge show us that Christmas is about being kind and generous and embracing relationships. Once a miserable, stingy, hate-filled old man, Scrooge learns to keep Christmas as well as anyone living.

For Ralphie, Christmas is mostly about getting a Red Ryder BB gun, and a little bit about spending some time with family making memories.

The Grinch's heart grows three sizes when he realizes after he has stolen all of Whoville's presents, decorations, and Who-ham that Christmas comes anyway. Christmas is far more than Christmas presents.

The stories of Christmas tell us that the holiday  is about being a little nicer, feeling a little warmer, being more inclined to perform acts of generosity and kindness to our fellow human beings. And doing all of these things gives us that--well, you know--that feeling of Christmas, children laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile while hearing silver bells ringing on every corner.

As much as I love the stories of Christmas, though, most of them get it wrong. Most of them communicate that Christmas is about something we do, something we get, something we make, or something we buy. But how empty a Christmas created by us leaves us! The decorations come down. The presents break, get old, don't fit, get returned. The little love we've put in our hearts for our fellow man drowns in January's slush. We find ourselves asking Charlie Brown's question: "I guess I don’t really know what Christmas is about. Isn’t there anyone who understands what Christmas is all about?"

And Linus gives Charlie Brown the best answer:

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in the manger.’ And suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men.’”

For George Bailey, that old building and loan will continue to struggle to survive, Uncle Billy will continue to drink too much, and chances are good that George will never get to go to college or travel around the world.  Scrooge will find that despite his best efforts at good will toward his fellow man, he will continue to be frustrated with fellow humans who are irresponsible, tardy, and, in his opinion, spendthrifts. Ralphie will outgrow his BB gun and want something bigger, more expensive, and, most likely, well beyond his grasp. And the Grinch will find that a heart that grows is not necessarily a heart that has been changed and will continue to battle the demons of jealousy and bitterness despite the warm feelings he experienced in Whoville that Christmas day.

But Linus's Christmas story give us hope because it isn't about us. It isn't a story of our becoming stronger and improved as we come to a better understanding of who we are and what we have; it is about God taking the form of a baby, becoming smaller and weaker than those He would save. It isn't about obtaining the very things of this earth that our hearts most desire; it is about God giving up the glories of heaven and living a life of poverty to rescue us from hell. It isn't about how we generate peace and good will from inside ourselves as we reach out to others, donate to our favorite charities, or lend a helping hand. It is about the peace and good will  that God offers to us as He sends His Son to die so that we can be reconciled to Him. It isn't about a season; Christmas is a reality that will carry us through the disappointments and tragedies of life, whether they happen in February, May, or October. It is about a happy ending that continues beyond the happy ending, whose next chapter does not disappoint.

Come, thou long expected Jesus, 
born to set thy people free; 
from our fears and sins release us, 
let us find our rest in thee.  
Israel's strength and consolation, 
hope of all the earth thou art; 
dear desire of every nation, 
joy of every longing heart.


Born thy people to deliver, 
born a child and yet a King, 
born to reign in us forever, 
now thy gracious kingdom bring. 
By thine own eternal spirit 
rule in all our hearts alone; 
by thine all sufficient merit, 
raise us to thy glorious throne.

~Charles Wesley

Happy Birthday in Heaven

Kristi Lynn Walborn
December 6, 1969 - January 16, 1990

Annette and Kristi
August 6, 1983

Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart--oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape--of your sister.

~Katherine Mansfield

Happy birthday in heaven, my funny, messy, noisy, beautiful, smart, stubborn, little-bit-naughty but sweet sister. See you soon!

The Sick Body

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body (1 Corinthians 12:12).

When the church is happy, healthy, and at peace, it's easy to forget that we are a body--that we're organically connected and placed, by Christ, in a bond that ought not be broken. The hand, eye, ear, nose are all well, and at times like that, we're glad, if we're an ear, that the hand is okay, but we don't need to pay much attention to the hand, so we don't.

But when the church is divided in the ugliness of sin, when that bond is stretched so thin that it very nearly breaks, it might be the hand that is broken, but we, the ear, feel that pain, as do the nose, the eyes, and all of the rest of the body parts too. We're organically connected and have been placed in that bond by Christ, so pain in one part of the body affects us all. Some of the greatest hurts of this life are feeling betrayed, being deceived, watching people whose godliness we've admired and respected disappoint us with their arrogance, anger, and refusal to admit wrongdoing. It is during these times that we are reminded of our catechism that teaches us that we are inclined, by our nature, to hate God and our neighbor.

But even in this darkness are lessons to be learned. Especially in the darkness can be growth. And these are the lessons that we learn.

1. In a conflict or disagreement, usually there isn't one person or group who is completely wrong and one group that is completely right. While sickness in the body usually starts when one person offends another, it's very easy for the offended party to fall into the trap of sinning right back--whether by being angry, gossiping, or desiring revenge. We must not take sides and deepen the divide. We must do what is right, and encourage all others to do the same, in word and deed.

2. We need to remain humble at all times. It's easy to look at a person who has fallen into sin and think, "That could never be me." I would imagine that the person that we're looking at has probably had that same thought at some time. If conflict is ever to be resolved, if ever there is to be peace, it must start with us in our interactions with one another. And we must be willing to see our own failings and confess them.

3. People who fall into sin and refuse to acknowledge that sin tend to just keep on sinning more to cover up the sins that they have committed. As people fall into this trap, I think, "Wouldn't it just be easier to say you're sorry and get on with things? It has to be much harder to keep on plotting and scheming than it would be just to repent." If we know we have done wrong, our best course of action is to repent, and not to try to justify and scheme our way out of a difficult situation. It is the surest way to gain the respect and support of our brothers and sisters.

4. A quote from a forthcoming excellent book on Christ's parables by Dr. Bilkes of Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary that I've been editing: "Christ's will is that His church be a place of humility and service. It should also be a place where there is joy when straying disciples return (see Matt. 18:13). And if one brother sins against another brother, there should be reconciliation through truth and repentance." The body will never heal unless we remember that our goal must be, ultimately, "reconciliation through truth and repentance"--not just proving someone else wrong, not proving we are right, and certainly not driving the offending parties from us without resolving the problems.

5. We must never lose sight that the people in the body--even the ones with whom we may disagree--are brothers and sisters in Christ. He has placed them in His church and has shown them mercy and love. How can we do any less?

6. When someone offers up repentance, we must accept it and close the book on the matter. We should not second-guess motives or genuineness. Mercy and grace must be our operating principles.

7. Gossip is not only wrong if what we are saying is untrue. We can say something true and still be guilty of gossip if our words are intended to make someone else look bad. Saying less in situations like these is more.

8. Finally, again from Dr. Bikes: "How often have we metaphorically stood with our hands around an offending brother or sister's 'neck' while ignoring our own sin before God, which is infinitely worse? In order to loosen our grip on the 'throats' of others and grant this kingdom forgiveness easily and quickly, we should often think of our great debt before God."

Our God is great and wise, and the one who can bring life from death can certainly bring about growth even in the darkness, even when the body is sick. Learning the lessons of the darkness will bring us back into the light of health and peace and will make the body stronger.

What lessons have you learned in the darkness?

Book Review: Growing up Amish

If you're a fan of Amish fiction, you probably don't want to read this book--but you should. The problem is that you might not want to read Amish fiction again.The picture of Amish life as a series of neighborhood barn raisings, quilting bees, cute little barefoot girls wearing bonnets and crisp aprons chasing kittens past the clothesline strung with with black pants with no zippers, home cookin' style meals with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, freshly baked bread spread with homemade jam, and green beans fresh from the garden is not what you will find in Ira Wagler's memoir of what life was like "growing up Amish." Instead, the author provides an honest, but definitely not bitter, account of what it was like to be Amish and why he could not remain a member of the Amish church and live in the community in which he had been raised.

Wagler was born in the Old Order Amish community of Aylmer, Ontario, the ninth in a family of eleven children. In the first part of the book Wagler writes about Amish life and culture, and it's fascinating to read from an "insider" what exactly that is like. He describes family life, church services, and school. Most poignant is his account of the bullying of Nicholas Herrfort, a child from "that unusual, or odd family" that exists in all of our communities. With great beauty and sadness, Wagler writes of the tragedy of Nicholas, and we all hang our heads in shame because even though we may not have grown up Amish, we've been human children who have at the least stood by silently while some other poor child was tortured. 

After two of Wagler's brothers and one sister leave the Amish, his father moves the family to Bloomfield, Iowa, hoping that he would be able to keep his remaining sons Amish in a new place. It was here that Wagler spent his rebellious "Rumspringa" teen years, running around with a group of five other boys, hunting, staying out late, drinking beer and smoking, and telling off-color jokes.  But typical teen rebellion turned to something much more serious when, at seventeen, Wagler left home for the first time:

"One fateful, starless, April night, I got up at 2:00 a.m. in the pitch black darkness, left a scribbled note under my pillow, and walked away--all my earthly belongings stuffed in a little black duffel bag."

The rest of Wagler's memoir describes a cycle of returns and departures. He leaves his family, feels empty, attempts to fill the emptiness by returning to what is familiar (family and church), feels empty, and in an attempt to fill the emptiness, leaves again. Wagler's story continues to fascinate, as he recounts a family member's tragic accident, his own attempts to settle into the Amish community by getting married and joining the church, and his ultimate decision to leave the Amish church for good.

While many perceive the Amish to be a people whose withdrawal from modern life makes them closer to God, people who experience a rich spiritual life, Wagler's experience tells a different story. A faith that is based on law-keeping leaves its adherents feeling empty, distant from God and from each other. Ironically, Wagler first hears the gospel from an Amish man who did not grow up in the Amish faith, and he experiences true conversion:

"For the first time, I truly grasped that Christ had died for me--suffered, bled, and died--and that I could be his through faith. I was amazed at how simple it really was. Why had it always seemed so hard, so impossible before?... He who gives life to the lifeless gave life to me."

The jacket copy of this book describes it as a charming, poignant, coming-of-age story, and yet it is so much deeper than that. You will laugh, cry, and be moved--Wagler is a gifted writer. But his story points out the futility of a faith that attempts to win God's favor by obedience to men's laws, and the joy of the salvation that comes from faith in Christ alone.

 

Jonathan Is 18

It used to be Thomas the Tank Engine, Spot the Dog, a blankie made from Mommy's old sleep shirt, and playing in the ball pit at Chuck E Cheese and eating the pizza. Favorite book: The Little Engine That Could.

Now it's playing basketball, watching the Red Wings and Tigers, studying Physics and Pre-Calc, visiting colleges, and watching the zillion screens filled with sports at Peppino's--and eating the pizza. Favorite book: the Bible (good boy  young man!). 

Jonathan is 18! Happy birthday my almost grown-up son!

The Most Important Thing

In a day when many face, at the least, financial insecurity, and, at most, financial ruin; when many are scraping the bottom of their life savings to pay the electric bill and wonder what will happen in January after there are no more unemployment checks arriving and there's no job in sight; when thousands are occupying cities all over the world to protest the things they don't have, Jesus teaches us in the gospel of John what is most important. So many of the people he encountered felt like the people today: "If only I had this or that or the other thing, life would be good. I could truly live."

And so when the wine at the wedding party runs out, Jesus' mother comes to him with the crisis, and he provides high quality wine in abundance. Problem solved, party saved. Except that the party wine will eventually run out, and the wedding guests probably don't realize that the true source of joy and gladness that will never run out was among them as a guest.

A woman carries her water jar to the town well in the heat of the day. She dreads this daily chore. It's hard work carrying the heavy water jar back home, and her difficulty is increased because she carries out the chore when the sun is the hottest so she can avoid the scathing glares, the whispers of the other women of the town. So when the man at the well offers her his water, the water that will make her never thirst again, she wants it. Problem solved. She will never have to come to the dreaded well to draw water again.

A man sick for thirty-eight years laid by the pool of Bethesda. If he could only get into the pool when an angel stirred the water, he would be well, and his problems would be solved. So when a stranger approaches him and tells him to take up his bed and walk, he does. Problem solved. Except the stranger's question--"Do you want to be well?"--is about something much deeper, much more necessary than the ability to walk.

And there are the five thousand on the hillside, following Jesus around because of the things they see he can do. He looks like someone who could save them from their rulers, the Romans. But their need is much more basic at the moment. They're hungry, and there is no place to get food close by. He provides all five thousand of them, and their wives and children, with what they think is most important--bread--so much that there are twelve baskets left over. Problem solved. He reminds, them, though, that their fathers in the wilderness were also given bread, and they died. Only he is the bread of life, the bread that will stop all hungering and provide true life.

It's not that we don't need water or bread or wine or physical health. All of these things are important--for now. And paychecks, electricity, and affordable college tuition are all important too. But they aren't the most important things. We can have all of those things in quantities greater than we could ever need, and we'll still die, having never truly lived. No, our true needs are truly satisfied when we realize, like Simon Peter, the source of our life, the most important thing: "Lord,  to whom [or what] shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God." Problem solved.

Something to Think About

I've done it. You've done it too. We've all done it: Just don't tell anyone else . . .

Life, Learning, and a Letter

Back in 1983, a group of young men--some still college students and some recent graduates--wanted to pay tribute to a teacher who had profoundly impacted their lives. They knew him then as Mr. Grier, and he was the stuff of academic legend for these students who were discovering what it was to think truly, deeply, and Christianly. Mr. Grier himself had studied at Westminster Philadelphia with Van Til, and now he passed on to these young men what he had learned about how to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ in the discipline of philosophy. But after many years of teaching at Cedarville College, Mr. Grier accepted a position at Grand Rapids Theological Seminary, and his students were grieved to see him go.

How could these young men thank a professor who had helped them to understand what it was to think biblically in ways they had never understood before? They thanked Mr. Grier in the way any teacher can best be thanked--by offering up a magnum opus of thought that pulled together everything they had learned about their academic specialties and wrote a volume titled Essays on the Christian World View. They dedicated it to "James M. Grier, professor and friend." They wrote about heady subjects like epistemology, apologetics, anthropology, exegesis, economics, history, politics, and science. It was quite an accomplishment for a group of young men who were busy with their own studies, but they did it. And the one who pulled it  altogether--even to securing the necessary funding--was the editor, Jonathan Selden.

While I wasn't an integral part of this effort, I was there. In fact, I resented the project a little because it distracted Jon, who was then my fiance, from paying as much attention to me as I wanted him to. An English major, I proofread. I also helped collate, walking around tables piled high with pages for hours on end. I sat at  the book table during lunchtime and sold books myself. Such a huge undertaking for a young man who hadn't even finished college yet--to edit a book, to author two chapters himself. But it was a good thing he took on projects like this then, because his life ended early, at age thirty-five. Not many of us can say that we've edited a book of essays before we have graduated from college, but Jon needed to because his time was so short.

Fast forward nearly thirty years to last week. It was like Christmas at the seminary where the offices of Reformation Heritage Books are, where I work. The hallway was filled with long tables loaded with books--commentaries, Bibles, books on theology, philosophy, history. Students pored over the tables, looking for treasures to fill their libraries. The reluctant Santa, now Dr. Grier, is moving to a smaller home and has had to downsize. This teacher of so many, for so many years, donated his personal library, the tools of his trade, to the Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary Library. The librarian had pulled what she wanted from the collection, and now the rest were for sale.

It occurred to me that it would be nice to have a book from the library of this teacher who had had such a profound effect on my thought, even though I had taken only one class from him. So I spent some time digging through the piles, not exactly sure what I was looking for but positive that I would know it when I found it. The elevator doors opened, and a couple of students came out with the last few boxes and started to load the books onto the table. 

I smiled as I recognized three or four copies of Essays on the Christian World View, with its stark blue cover and black plastic coil binding it all together. I thought how pleased Jon would be to know that his books had been a part of Dr. Grier's library for all these years, and now they were being placed on a table to be sold, perhaps, to students. I picked one up and felt sadness for a brilliant young man whose life ended so early, for other young men who had once been passionate for God but had long ago fallen away. And then I noticed the letter.

I knew right away what it was. Mr. Grier had moved to Grand Rapids before the books had been finished, and Jon had mailed copies to him. I was shaking as I opened it and read a letter that had most likely been typed on my electric typewriter back in June 1983:

Dear Mr. Grier, . . .

The years at Cedarville for me and for most of my friends have come and gone. However, we have endeavored to leave behind a legacy, a witness to the truth that has been taught us. This witness we have embodied in a collection of writings, Essays on the Christian World View.

Because you have been so influential in each of our lives and in our academic careers we have chosen to recognize this fact by dedicating this book to you . . .

On behalf of each of the contributors may I ask you to accept this, the first volume printed, as a token of our thanks and appreciation.

Sincerely,

Jonathan Selden

How amazing that a letter that once rested in my typewriter nearly thirty years ago should find its way back to me--through distance and time, through one man's library to a seminary library to a book table. It is a legacy--a witness to the truth--indeed. 

Diversity

I first encountered the issues of diversity a lifetime ago, it seems, when I was a single mom looking for a career that would enable me to support myself and my two children. There was a brief period when I considered being a teacher, and I took a few classes at a local university to get certification, until I decided that I didn't have the financial or emotional resources and just plain didn't want to be a teacher badly enough to put myself through several years of education in courses that seemed fairly irrelevant, especially since I had a master's degree in English and several years' teaching experience in private schools.

The class that made me decide my career in education was finished was on diversity in the classroom, in which we prospective teachers were taught how to manage a classroom where there were students of different races, learning abilities, socio-economic backgrounds, and even sexual orientations. I, a white, middle-class girl from a small town in northwestern Ohio with above-average intelligence, came into the class thinking that as a Christian, I should treat all people with dignity, respect, and charity--regardless of color and intellectual ability, whether they were rich or poor, gay or straight--because they were made in the image of God, and this is what I was called to do.

But this was the wrong approach. It wasn't enough to acknowledge that there were differences and respect others in spite of them. It was necessary to understand the differences, to somehow enter into the experiences of others; it would be possible to respect them only if we could understand their holidays, eat their foods, feel whatever it felt like to be female/male; Hispanic/African American/Chinese American/etc.; wheelchair bound/deaf/blind; ADHD/dyslexic; and on and on. The class met one evening a week for a couple of hours for a semester. After spending two entire class sessions listening to the miserable plight of a young gay man who grew up in a Christian home here in Grand Rapids, I decided that this approach wasn't working for me. It was easier for me to be charitable and respectful toward him when I just thought of him as another person made in God's image and didn't have to walk through the details of what it was like to be a young gay man growing up in a Christian home in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

One Christian workplace addressed the matter of diversity by offering training that focused on white racism in American history and then divided employees up into committees that considered the diversity that exists among different sexes, people of different religious denominations, people who worked in the office and people who worked in the plant, and, of course, people of different races. Again, I wonder whether it was really necessary to spend so much time exploring differences. The workers all professed to be Christians, and shouldn't they be focusing on what bound them together rather than on what made them different from each other? As humans, we all fall prey to the sin of insensitivity sometimes, and we might be guilty of saying or doing something that could hurt another, but were committees devoting hours of work time exploring the differences really the solution?

And now I work in a truly unique environment where the issue of diversity is a non-issue. The offices of Reformation Heritage Books are housed in the Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary building, so I have the unique privilege of watching as people of different colors and traditions, with varying academic abilities, of different religious denominations, some with very little of this world's possessions and some with more, and even different sexes live and study together. I overhear a conversation between two men, one from Brazil and one from the Netherlands, talking about their wives and how they're adjusting to this strange, but warm place. I watch as a young man from Scotland helps an older brother from Malawi study his Hebrew. Students and their families from Ethiopia, Mexico, the Philippines, South Africa, Canada, and America--elect from every nation, it seems--gather here without regard for language and cultural differences and live together in various apartment complexes near the seminary. I hear the students who have been here longer say to the new ones, "We're in 226. Come by if you need anything. We'll get together soon."  People refer to others as brothers and sisters here, and they really mean it. And the interesting thing is that this all happens without committees, without training, without sessions that make us all aware of one another's experiences and traditions. It happens because the bonds of Christ that unite are far more powerful than the things that can divide--languages, traditions, foods, wealth, poverty, male or female.

And I am confident that there will be no diversity training in heaven. 

Where Have I Been?

If you want to see what our family has been up to, you need to visit Katie's photography blog. It will leave you humming "Kiss de Girl" from The Little Mermaid.


And on another subject, may I highly recommend some fantastic summer reading to you? I just finished Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, a book I had wanted to read for some time, and it did not disappoint. In fact, it exceeded my expectations. A romance story between a retired British army major and the local Pakistani shop keeper, Mrs. Ali--both senior citizens. It does not sound like a page turner, does it? Ah, but it is. One of my favorite passages. The Major and Mrs. Pettigrew encounter a young Indian woman and her son in the park, and another person in the park has been telling the little boy that he may not play with his ball there. The mother is incensed and wants to tell "the old cow" off. But the wise Mrs. Ali steps in:

" 'The world is full of small ignorances,' said a quiet voice. Mrs. Ali appeared . . . and gave the young woman a stern look. 'We must do our best to ignore them and thereby keep them small, don't you think?' "

Look who else is having an anniversary . . .




July 11, 2008
Photo by LVL Photography


"Reader, I married him."

~from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

 

Golden

Ted and Helen
July 1, 1961

Here we are at the start committing to each other
By His word and from our hearts
We will be a family in a house that will be a home
And with faith we'll build it strong

Now to be a family we've got to love each other
At any cost unselfishly
And our home must be a place that fully abounds with grace
A reflection of His face


We'll build a household of faith
That together we can make
And when the strong winds blow it won't fall down
As one in Him we'll grow and the whole world will know
We are a household of faith

Fifty years ago today, at Lower Falls Baptist Church in St. Albans, West Virginia, Ted Walborn  and Helen Mash, my parents, committed their lives to each other before God, their family, and their friends. Marriages that last for fifty years are rare--it seems right that we should call them golden anniversaries. We have much to learn from couples who reach this milestone about what it takes to make a marriage last for so long. 

Perhaps the finest quality of my parents' marriage has been their devotion to God. I can't remember when I didn't know about Jesus, when I wasn't learning Sunday school songs, when our family did something other than go to church on Sunday. My parents modeled their faith in every aspect of their lives--as a husband and wife, as parents to us children, as family members to their own parents and siblings, to their coworkers and friends. I'm sure they would tell you that God has held them together, in good times and bad, and He is the one who has helped them keep the vows they made to each other fifty years ago.

Not only have they served God, they have served others through their marriage. They cared for us children physically, emotionally, and spiritually so that we lacked nothing that we needed. They gave us the gift of music and then sacrificed themselves to help us develop our talents. I have always known that whatever I truly needed they would move heaven and earth to provide. They put action to that knowledge when my first husband died in 1996 and they moved from their lifelong home in Ohio to Michigan to help me raise Katie and Jonathan. Now Katie and Jonathan know the blessing of having been served by their grandparents. When my sister, Kristi, died from injuries she sustained in a car accident in 1990, we all were devastated. We still grieve her loss today. But after a few years, my parents took up God's call to comfort others with the comfort they received, and they have ministered to many other parents who have lost children and helped them through the darkness of their grief.

And now I watch them, as they grow older, serving each other. A few years ago, Mom had a run-in with cancer (thankfully she is cured now). Dad has experienced a series of surgeries, minor to major, over the past few years--on his ears, his knees, his back. And they are still there for each other, looking out for one another's needs--serving one another.

Today people talk about things being right for them, being fulfilled, finding themselves. Marriages often come to an end in the pursuit of these goals. My parents--and others who live and love for fifty years and more--inspire us to see that a marriage that lasts is a marriage focused outwardly--on God, others, and each other. 


Their fifty-year commitment to each other sets an example and inspires us all to a greater commitment to God, our spouses, and our families and friends. At a time when marriages are treated as disposable commodities, as easily discarded as yesterday's newspaper, my mom and dad have demonstrated that marriage is a rare treasure, to be carefully tended and guarded for as long as God gives it.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad! What a blessing to have been raised and loved by you in a household of faith!

  

On God's Popularity

From The Wanderer, blog of Jeremy Walker, author of A Portrait of Paul:

"Attendance at the morning worship service will give you an indication of how popular your church is. Attendance at the evening worship service will give you an indication of how popular your pastor is. Attendance at the prayer meetings [or midweek Bible studies] will give you an indication of how popular God is.

Ouch?"

Book Review: The Next Story by Tim Challies

"I'd like to invite you to join me as we think about the 'next story,' a story we are living right now--life after the digital explosion. We'll explore some suggestions and ideas for how we as Christians can live in this new reality with character, virtue, and wisdom. And we'll examine how we can respond to these revolutionary changes as followers of Christ in a digital age, learning to live faithfully as the next story unfolds."

So writes popular Christian blogger and author Tim Challies, in the introduction to The Next Story: Life and Faith after the Digital Explosion, which takes a look at the digital world of mobile phones, computers, and the Internet. Part 1 considers "how God intended technology to function in the world he created." From that Challies seeks to gain an understanding of "what is always true about the relationship between humans and their technologies." Finally, the author addresses the history of technology--how we have gotten to where we are today. In part 2, Challies proposes ways we can live wisely in the digital age, using our technologies instead of allowing them to use us.

In the first part, then, Challies lays down foundational principles about technology and its use. Christians must understand that technology is a good, God-given gift  that is, like everything else, subject to the curse. Humans can use technology in a manner that glorifies God or to further our own sin by turning it into an idol.

He then looks at the effects technology is having on society and individuals, pointing out that in our excitement over a new technology, we fail to recognize the disadvantages that come along with it. He also reminds readers that within the technologies we use are biases that predispose us to see the world in one way and not another. In order to maintain our control over technology, we have to anticipate the changes that may result as we use it and respond to the changes with wisdom--admittedly not an easy task. Technology also affects ecology, promotes shifts in power (from old to young), and human biology, as scientists are now discovering the ways that our brains our changing as they are shaped by digital technology. Challies concludes part 1 by tracing the history of the technologies that have led us to the digital world of today.

Part 1 is significant and important, because by examining the theology, theory, and history behind digital technology, Challies moves beyond mere observation and opinion, and places the applications of part 2 in context. We see that technology is a good gift from God and understand that apart from our using it wisely, its effects, which can be bad as well as good, can overwhelm us, and we turn something good into something idolatrous. The chapter on the history of technology follows. As an editor, I might have organized the book differently, putting the history chapter before the others because it just makes sense to me to explain what the subject is and how we've gotten to where we are before we delve into the theology and theory of technology. It feels a little anticlimactic by the time the reader reaches this chapter, but the content is important, and the question of organization is a minor one.

Part 2 is eye-opening, convicting, and thought provoking as Challies guides the reader into a deeper level of thought regarding the day to day use of the technologies that most of us think little of. Chapter 4 deals with the pervasiveness of communication today--has communication itself become an idol, are we using our words well to be an encouragement. In chapter 5, Challies looks at how mediated our communication with others has become; we tend to avoid face-to-face contact and send emails rather than make phone calls. Chapter 6 deals with digital distractions and how they affect the quality and quantity of our work and steal us away from our families and friends. The subject of chapter 7, information and informationism, forces us to consider our information sources and recognize what information actually promotes knowledge and wisdom.

I personally found chapters 8 and 9 particularly informative. Chapter 8 considers information and authority, and takes a close look at search engines and Wikipedia. While I knew that Wikipedia was not necessarily a reliable source of information, I couldn't have explained exactly why. Challies shows how our notion of truth--and how truth is determined--is changing in light of Wikipedia and search engines. The shift to truth by consensus and majority opinion rather than authority is disturbing. Chapter 9 deals with privacy and visibility and how everything we do online leaves a permanent data trail that, were it revealed, would in many cases be at the least embarrassing and at the most incriminating.

The Next Story is important for its pioneering effort to understand biblically what technology is, how it affects us, and how we can use it wisely to glorify God. It answers the questions that not enough Christian technology users are even aware they should be asking, and it answers them in a wise and discerning fashion. With its "application" sections and questions for discussion, this is an ideal book for families and youth groups--in fact, technology users of all ages. Tim Challies has done a great job of showing us how to take our thoughts about technology and its use captive to the obedience of Christ. 

Sports in Moderation

There was no joy in Mudville Saturday afternoon when Jonathan's high school baseball team, the Wolf Pack, went down in defeat to the Saugatuck Indians. But it was a good season, and for Jonathan, a first-time player (he played T-ball back when he was in kindergarten), it was a good experience. He's sorry to see it all end.

I never thought it would be the case, but I guess I'm officially a sports mom. Jonathan decided this past school year--his junior year--that he wanted to be an athlete. And since he attends a small Christian school, anyone who would like to play is welcome on the team--with or without experience. Up to this point my sports experience has been less than zero. I never had an interest in or desire to play sports (I was a music and drama person), and aside from a short brush with soccer in junior high, Katie pretty much followed in my footsteps. Jonathan has blazed new trails for our family, and my time in the previously unknown leaves me with questions and concerns about the wide world of sports.

To be sure, it has been a positive experience for Jonathan. He's in much better shape physically--he slimmed right down during basketball season--and he's learned a lot about working together with others to accomplish a common goal. It's been good for him socially to interact with the other guys on the team. It's been confidence building as he has stretched himself to learn new skills and to work hard to improve. And yet . . . I find myself wondering about other lessons our kids are learning because of their involvement in sports. Are they good ones?

Some kids who participate in sports are learning that their leisure activities (and their parents' leisure activities as spectators) take priority over everything and are the most important thing in their lives. With practice every evening after school for a couple of hours, and games (often double headers that last about six hours) two or three times a week, of necessity sports activities shove everything else to the side. Are we teaching our kids that their games and practices are more important than homework, family life, and church involvement? What are we missing out on, and what are we unable to participate in because our kids are involved in sports? Would we be willing to devote the time and energy we pour into sports into Bible study?

Some kids who participate in sports are learning that their athletic ability is who they are--it is what makes them significant. In the end, sports ability is good for as long as you play sports in school. Few become professional athletes, a few more play in college, but for most, graduation from high school means the end of a sports career. And if you've learned that your value is in your ability to pitch a ball, to shoot baskets, to set records running a mile, and that the most important thing you can do is excel in sports, you're going to have a rude awakening someday when no one cares how many people you struck out your senior year or that your basketball team won the state tournament or that you still hold the record in your high school for the mile. They'll only care that you show up on time for class or work, meet deadlines, and produce results that require less physical prowess and more mental ability. For some kids, it will be unsettling at best, and devastating at its worst.

Some kids who participate in sports are learning that they are the center of the universe. No expense for clothing and equipment is too great. Parents do not have lives and interests of their own. They exist to transport their children to practices and games. Their own responsibilities (including paid jobs) become secondary as they block out huge amounts of time to attend games.

My husband and I sat Jonathan down early in the season. We told him that we supported him in his decision to participate in baseball, and we thought it would be a good activity for him. We told him that we love him. We also told him that with all the responsibilities we have, we couldn't possibly devote our time to attending all of his games. We would aim for one a week. We support him by working at jobs to earn money to pay for the things he needs. We support him by setting an example of prioritizing life's demands responsibly. We support him by not allowing him to forget about his more important responsibilities. We support him by setting an example of moderation.

Sports in moderation is a good thing. Children can learn important lessons that prepare them for life by playing sports in moderation. But sports not in moderation becomes like anything else not in moderation--an idol.
And kids--like the rest of us--don't need to be taught to have idols. They can accomplish that without any practice at all.

"Love Their Husbands"

My Mother's Day was very sweet this year. Now that the kids are getting a little older, they are able to treat me in ways that are better even than gifts, although Jonathan gave me a beautiful card and Katie gave me a very pretty coffee cup that is now my favorite. We had my parents over for lunch, and Henry and Katie put the meal together while Jonathan set the table. I was ordered out of the kitchen and spent my time playing the piano while they all put the meal together. It was a lovely day.

And yet there was a small, gray cloud hanging over the day. Not because of anything my family did or didn't do--they were great-- but because of some news we had received earlier in the week that a family that we all know and have been friends with for years is getting a divorce. We were all shocked to hear it. They seemed to be such a solid Christian family. The husband works hard at a good job, shows great love for his two children and wife, takes care of his house and lawn, and takes his family boating and camping in the summer. The wife was able to work at home before the children were in school, and keeps her home beautifully and dotes on her children. Katie has babysat for the children. The family has taken Jonathan in, making a special, conscious effort to include him in their activities, knowing how difficult things have been for him growing up without a dad. When I had no idea where to send Jonathan to a high school where he would be able to grow in healthy ways, the wife was the answer to my prayers when she told me about a small, conservative Lutheran high school that has, in fact, worked very well for Jonathan.

And now, we hear, she has left--a husband, two beautiful children, a lovely home, and even a much-loved dog--because she hasn't loved her husband in many years, she says.

During my single years, I had several opportunities to get to know men whose wives had left them for similar reasons. I've never seen anything so sad as these men who will admit they made mistakes but were genuinely trying to be good husbands and fathers to their families, who now sit back watching the wives that they still love going out on dates with their boyfriends or remarrying, relegated to being fathers to their cherished children only on the weekends. The children in these situations feel a pain that will never go away and are hurt and angry that the family that they had once been a part of is now broken and beyond repair. I've told Katie and Jonathan more than once that it's definitely painful when a parent dies, but far worse is when a parent chooses to leave, chooses to destroy the family, chooses to forever scar his or her children because of selfish desires that will never be satisfied.

The women in these situations seem to be hoping to star in their own personal chick flick or be the main character in a Christian romance novel, hoping to find themselves, find romance, find love--find something more satisfying than loving God, their husbands, and their children. They won't find "it" because there isn't anything to find. There is no object to discover, only a task to be fulfilled.

Back to Mother's Day: Our pastor preached from Titus 2:

Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.

It was a convicting sermon, and if there was a woman who walked out of church that day feeling like she had it altogether, she wasn't listening well. But the concept that struck me--again--is how unlike the world's notion of love biblical love is. Most think of love as a kind of passive thing, something that we fall in and out of, something that happens to us--an object we hope to find. The world also sees it as something optional--you can love your husband or not love your husband. In fact, we often hear that someone stays in a marriage for the sake of the children even though he or she doesn't really love his or her spouse.

That's not at all what Paul is saying here as he instructs the older women to train the younger women to love their husbands and children. Love here is something to be learned--something that must be learned and exercised in order to be obedient to God. As our pastor pointed out, the passage doesn't say wives should love their husbands if they are thoughtful, romantic, good looking, helpful around the house, whatever else we might think that we want in a husband. Just love him. Because we are commanded. Because you can't truly love your children--or God--if you're not loving your husband.

And so I'm sad for this man who says that he married his wife for life but is faced with the ugliness of divorce. I'm sad for these children who have known what it is to have a rich family life but who will never have it again, whose future will mean dividing holidays up between more families than there are holidays. And I'm sad for this woman who thinks that she'll find something more satisfying out there than loving her husband and children and who thinks that love will happen to her somehow, someday. Outside of chick flicks and romance novels, there are no happy endings for those who wait for love to find them. The answer to not loving anymore is to start loving again. Only in this is there a happy ending.

Katie and the Governor

Katie is just starting her second week of a photojournalism internship with the Holland (Michigan) Sentinel. Last week was Holland's famous Tulip Festival, and Katie was quite busy photographing the festivities.

For those of you who are not Michiganders, the gray-haired man on the left is Michigan's new governor, Rick Snyder. He was visiting the Hudsonville Creamery, which is near Holland, to sample two new flavors created especially for him. And Katie was there to photograph the event.

Also there was her internship supervisor, who instructed her to go stand near the governor and do something crazy. So she did. And the best part? Hudsonville Ice Cream gave each of the photographers two half gallons of ice cream to take home. I think Katie's summer is getting off to a good start.

And if you want to see some of her pictures from the Tulip Festival, including a respectable photo of Governor Snyder that Katie took when she wasn't being silly, take a look here.

Short and Sweet

"Is the world safer with bin Laden dead? Who knows. But it is better."

~Peggy Noonan

Why I Don't Need to Read Love Wins to Know I Don't Need to Read Love Wins

If you haven't heard of this book, good for you. It probably means that you have better things to do than waste lots of time on the Internet reading about books that you don't need to read. But lots of Christians out there are talking about Love Wins by Rob Bell, pastor of Mars Hill Church  and author of  books like Velvet Elvis and Sex God. The book has stirred controversy because in typical Bellian fashion, the author raises provocative questions from the beginning of the book. He tells an anecdote about an art fair at his church. An artist  incorporated a quote by Gandhi into her artwork, and someone attached a note to it saying, "Reality check: He's in hell." This leads Bell to ask, first, how anyone knows what Gandhi's eternal destiny is. But this is the broader question that this leads to: "Of all the billions of people that have ever lived, will only a select number 'make it to a better place' and every single other person suffer in torment and punishment forever? Is this acceptable to God? Has God created millions of people over tens of thousands of years who are going to spend tens of thousands of years in anguish? Can God do this, or even allow this, and still claim to be a loving God?"

And we see where Pastor Rob is headed. In a later chapter, he criticizes churches who give a summary of their beliefs on their websites and state their belief that those who do not believe in Jesus will be sent to eternal punishment in hell. It's as clear as Rob ever gets that he doesn't like this, that this notion of eternal judgment is contradictory to a God with whom all things are possible.

But that's it. That's all I've read--the Amazon preview. And I don't need to read any more to tell you that I don't need to read this book. Clearly Rob is questioning the doctrine of judgment and hell, and I really don't have any questions about that. It isn't that I know all there is to know about the Bible and its teachings--far from it. But I am Reformed, and Reformed believers have the great blessing of historic creeds and confessions that provide summaries of what the Bible has to say about the major doctrines of the church. These confessions were written by theologians, godly men who studied the Scriptures and summarized their teachings. And these same confessions have been upheld by other godly Christians and church bodies who have studied the matter and affirmed that--yes--this is what Scripture teaches on this subject. 

And so what does the Heidelberg Catechism have to say about eternal judgment?

Q. How does Christ's return "to judge the living and the dead" comfort you?

A. In all my distress and persecution I turn my eyes to the heavens and confidently await as judge the very One who has already stood trial in my place before God and so has removed the whole curse from me. All his enemies and mine he will condemn to everlasting punishment: but me and all his chosen ones he will take along with him into the joy and glory of heaven.

And the catechism gives Scripture references to support  what it says: Luke 21:28; Romans 8:22-25; Philippians 3:20-21; Titus 2:13-14; Matthew 25:31-46; 11 Thessalonians 1:6-10.

I don't need to read all of Rob's distorted catechism questions with no answers to find the answers to questions that have been answered thoroughly and biblically from the Scriptures centuries ago, especially when he's offering us a heresy that has been rejected already many times through the centuries. I don't need to revisit what I've been taught about hell from my childhood because what I've been taught is the truth of God's Word.

Of course there are those of you out there who are wondering how fair it is of me to judge that Pastor Rob's ideas are all wrong when I haven't even heard him out or read his arguments. Again, this is a non-issue for me, so I don't need to hear him out. But this is one of the great blessings of the information age--the Internet. There are plenty of theologians out there who are willing to read this book and review it. And because I know  that reviewers like Carl Trueman, Kevin DeYoung, and Mark Galli are reliable, wise, and discerning, I can take their word for it when they tell me that Love Wins contradicts the truths of Scripture and history. 

So I close, not with questions about hell, but with the answers that have stood the test of God's Word and history: 

Hell and judgment, the Bible teaches, are acceptable to God. They are part of His plan.

Really.

God has created millions, billions of people who will suffer eternity in anguish.

Truly.

This is acceptable to a loving God. In fact, this is the requirement of a loving God, a God with whom all things are possible.

And this is sad. Some will spend eternity apart from him.

But here's the good news: God gave His Son, Jesus, to die for the sins of the world, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but will have everlasting life.

This is all about justice,

mercy,

and--yes--love.

Flower Delivery

At Christmas and Easter, the decorating committee at our church fills the sanctuary with the season's fresh flowers, and after the Sunday evening service, members of the congregation deliver the flowers to the shut-ins of the congregation. Our family was asked to deliver flowers to three ladies and a couple living in a retirement community, and so we filled the front and back seats with Easter lilies and a pink tulip and headed out, a little overwhelmed by the perfume of the Easter lilies.

Our first stop was at a dear lady's room in the nursing care part of the complex. When I first met her four years ago, she was close to ninety. She was Henry's friend--the only person I've ever heard call him Henk, the Dutch nickname for Henry. She was full of love, life, laughter, and joy in the Lord, and I'm so glad I knew her before she took the fall that started her rapid decline. Once animated, dressed in a sparkly suit on Sundays, she now laid quietly in the darkening room, wearing a hospital gown. Henry quietly approached and the rest of stayed back a little, not wanting to startle or overwhelm her.

Confused, at first she thought Henry was our pastor, but she quickly realized who her flower delivery person was. When I met her, she spoke English well--she's lived in America for much of her adult life--but her aging mind remembers the Dutch she spoke as a girl, and so she began rattling away at Henry, who understands and speaks some. She pointed to the Easter lily that was already there, and (as I pieced things together) told Henry that she already had one. In Dutch, he told her that now she had two.  I was impressed that either he (a) understood her and was able to communicate back to her, or (b) was able to act like he genuinely understood her and spoke back to her. I found out later that for my sweet husband, it was a little of a and more of b. That's one of the reasons I love him so much. He was very convincing.

They talked for a bit, and then she noticed the rest of us. She did recognize me, and it amazed me when she realized that she had to speak to me in English--and did. In the brief time we knew each other, she and I developed a mutual admiration, and she told me, "You are beautiful," as we held hands. I said, "You are beautiful," and I meant it. I kissed her neatly manicured hand--prettier than mine will ever be--and told her I loved her. She blew Henry a kiss as we left. It was hard to leave her, but there were other flowers to deliver before the evening was over.

Our last delivery was to an 89-year-old lady that I didn't know well. She still lives in independent living apartments. We all took seats in her nicely decorated and very tidy living room, and she insisted on serving all five of us cookies and orange juice. A traditional lady, she offered us refreshments several times, and at first we told her not to bother. Finally we accepted the orange juice and homemade cookies (delicious--glad we did) and found out that we drank up all her OJ. Later I told Henry that I felt bad about that, but he said that if we didn't accept her offer, we would have worried her to death. Dutch ladies must be hospitable--it's who they are, and they will find something to feed you.

We talked for awhile, and I fell in love with her when she told us this story. She walks with a walker that has a little seat on the front for carrying things. She had been making some soup, and was putting it into containers to freeze for another meal when she fell, spilling the hot soup all over her hands--she still had some scars from the incident. She didn't want anyone to know that she fell because if the wrong people found out, it could mean a transfer into the not-so-independent-apartments in another part of the complex, so she pushed through the pain and pulled herself up on her bad knee (she told us it really hurt), using her walker and a kitchen chair. She deserved way more than an Easter lily, but that was all we had.

It was a good way to end the day of resurrection, spending time with people who had been celebrating that resurrection far longer than we have and experiencing the blessings of its truth for many years. While we left them with a potted plant, they left us with the blessing of fellowship and communion of the saints. I will definitely be signing up to deliver poinsettias this Christmas.

Resurrection

Oh God of my exodus,
 Great was the joy of Israel's sons,
     when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy,
     when the Redeemer's foe lay crushed in the dust.
Jesus strides forth as the victor,
     conqueror of death, hell, and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death,
     tramples the power of darkness down,
     and lives forever.
He, my gracious surety,
     apprehended for payment of my debt,
     comes forth from the prison house of the grave
     free, and triumphant over sin, Satan, and death. . . .
What more could be done than thou hast done!
     Thy death is my life,
     thy resurrection my peace,
     thy ascension my hope,
     thy prayers my comfort.

~from The Valley of Vision

A Place Called Mercy: John 5

A description of the spot makes it sound like something that should be on a postcard: a pool with five covered walkways in Jerusalem called Bethesda, which means mercy. Mercy was the last thing you could expect to find in this anti-resort visited by multitudes of blind, crippled, paralyzed people who spent their days waiting for an unpredictable angel to stir the waters. The first one in, they said, would be instantly healed. And so the blind waited, even though they wouldn't be able to see the water bubbling. The crippled and paralyzed waited too--even though they wouldn't be physically able to move into the pool--at least not quickly--when the water stirred. And so instead of peace, relaxation, and happiness, those waiting by this pool were filled with desperation, anxiety, and sadness.

And if you were in Jerusalem to celebrate the feast, is this where you would go? To this pool of despair surrounded by the hopeless? It would be a little like going to New York City to watch the Thanksgiving parade and instead, going to a homeless shelter or a hospice. And yet Jesus, in Jerusalem for the feast, did just that: he went to the pool called Bethesda, which means mercy. And out of the multitudes of the sick, Jesus saw one  nameless man who had been ill for thirty-eight years--longer than most people in those days lived.

There was nothing particularly attention-grabbing about this man lying on his bed by the pool in a place called Mercy. Jesus just "knew" that he had been there a long time. And so out of all the masses of sick people, Jesus looked upon this invalid and asked him a very strange question: "Do you want to be healed?" Who wouldn't want to be healed after thirty-eight years of lying on a mat? So then the man, of course, responded, "Of course." Except that stories in the gospel of John never go the way we would expect them to, and that's not what the man said. So the man answered just as strangely as Jesus asked: "There isn't anyone to put me in the water when it stirs, and by the time I get to it myself, someone else gets there first." He almost sounds a little defensive, doesn't he, as if Jesus is accusing him of something instead of asking him a simple question. When we are confronted with sinless perfection, it's sinfully natural to become defensive, to blame someone else for our own failures and flaws.

And so the man who expected his salvation to come from an angel stirring the pool of water found it coming from this stranger who told him to take up his bed and walk. Wouldn't you expect him to say, "Why didn't I think of that? Don't you think I would if I could?" But he didn't. He did what everyone Jesus calls does, must do. He took up his bed and walked. And later, when he meets Jesus in the temple, he comes to understand that physical healing, a wonderful thing, is actually a small thing when we understand that what we really need from Jesus is spiritual healing so that we can go and sin no more.

How like those invalids by the pool are we all--blind to our sin, unable to walk in God's paths, paralyzed and unable to do anything pleasing to him. We lie by the pool, helpless to do anything to bring about our own cure, trusting in anything we can to bring us salvation, anything except the one who truly can save. But he comes to us--hopeless, desperate, full of self-pity, with nothing that would draw anyone to us--knows, chooses us, calls us, and transports us from the pool of despair to Mercy, asking us if we want to be well. He knows that we are helpless even to answer, so he tells us to get up, take up our bed, and walk. And sin no more.

  

Pet Punctuation Peeve

The route we travel to so many places takes us past our local Steak 'n Shake. While I certainly admire that eating establishment's steakburgers with cheese, skinny but crisp fries, and--yes--milkshakes, I cringe every time we pass by because of this:

"Open 24 hours"

For the people driving by on M6 at 3 am who can indulge their craving for a double chocolate fudge or turtle caramel nut shake (now I want one), this is a wonderful thing, but, please, Steak 'n Shake, lose the quotation marks.

As an English major-now-editor, I'm coming to the conclusion that people should have to get a license to use quotation marks. When I see the quotation marks around "Open 24 hours," it indicates one of the following:

1. Someone else is saying that Steak 'n Shake is open 24 hours.
2. It's a joke--Steak 'n Shake is not open 24 hours; in fact, used this way, it's probably only open two or three hours a day.

So Steak 'n Shake, these are the situations in which you would use quotation marks, and I'm thinking that these would rarely come up on your sign:

1. When you are indicating that someone else is saying something:

Annette said, "I would like to go to Steak and Shake to have a turtle caramel shake." Truer words were never spoken.

Note that the words the person is actually saying are enclosed in quotation marks. A comma goes before, and end punctuation usually goes inside. The exceptions are question marks sometimes (a subject for another lesson) and semicolons and colons.

2. When you are using a term ironically:

I just had a "healthy" meal at Steak 'n Shake that included a turtle caramel shake and french fries.

3. When you are referring to a word as a word:

A "classic melt" at Steak 'n Shake has nothing to do with ice; it involves meat and melted cheese on toast.

So Steak 'n Shake, why don't you just get rid of the set of quotation marks that came with the letters for your sign? I'm hard pressed to think of a situation where you would need them for your purposes. Unless there's something you want to tell us about your "steak" burgers . . .

Facism (Not to Be Confused with Fascism)

I just want to be treated fairly. Aren't we all created equal? Is it right that a segment of society should suffer ostracism--even abuse--simply because we aren't part of the majority? Should we not all have the same opportunities for success--the same right to pursue happiness--here in America?

I do not enjoy the same rights and privileges as others because of a new and ugly form of bigotry: Facism, which is not to be confused with Fascism. Let me explain. This evening, I checked my e-mail and found an ad from Orbitz announcing that I could win a trip to London. I eagerly opened the e-mail and scanned the page to find out how I could enter. I would like the chance to win a trip to London. But when I found the information for entering the contest, I saw that I would have to enter through Facebook. I don't have a Facebook. I am a victim of social media, refused the opportunity to enter a contest simply because I don't participate in Facebook.

So now those of us who are victims of Facism are refused the opportunity to enter contests. We also aren't privy to invitations to events when a universal invitation is extended on Facebook, and yet we're still expected to be in attendance. It seems unreasonable--yes, prejudicial--to expect those of us who are not on Facebook to show up for your open house/wedding reception/Pampered Chef party/birthday when we do not know that it is happening. Expecting non-Facebookers to know about and support your social events when they aren't even aware of them is definitely facist.

Even families are turning on their members who don't engage in social media. When my husband recently learned that a cousin had bought a campground in a distant state and had moved away months ago, he was told, "Get on Facebook." So now we can't even be a part of our families if we aren't on Facebook?

So what is next for those of us who have opted not to splay our lives for the world to see on Facebook? For those of us who don't have twenty-five pictures of our most recent vacation posted? For those of us who don't have time to report the minor, insignificant details of our lives to the rest of the world? Perhaps we'll be banned to live in our own physical communities, where people communicate by letters, telephone, and--gasp!--talking. When someone has surgery, has a baby, dies, gets married, or just wants to get together for an evening, we'll be forced to pick up the phone or send out paper announcements and invitations. And we just won't know where you went on vacation, see the pictures of the most recent remodeling project, or that you just finished cleaning your toilet and ate a bowl of Reese's Puffs. We shall overcome . . . or maybe not.

An Open Letter to Women Who Wear Leggings

Dear Women of All Ages Who Wear Leggings (and, if appropriate, your mothers),

You're everywhere--at the mall, in the grocery store, and now, of all places, at church. You're young and thin, young and not so thin, over forty, long legs and short legs. I always have to look at you a couple of times to figure out what is going on, because my first thought is, "Oh, no, she has forgotten her pants." And then I realize that the one I'm looking at completely intended this. This is on purpose. And I marvel again at how someone or some institution so ridiculous--the fashion industry, Lindsay Lohan, Hollywood, a Kohl's ad--has brainwashed a mass of women into believing that this looks good on them, when, in fact, on most it just looks kind of silly.

But there you all are, knit fabric clinging to every shapely curve of your leg--whether it's a nice shape or not so nice--with your sweater or shirt just brushing the top of your thigh/bottom of your butt in that provocative way that I'm sure distracts many men from what they're supposed to be doing or thinking about because they're imagining just what's a little bit above what they can't see. (And especially to the one who sat in front of us during church a couple of weeks ago--please don't do that to my menfolk again. I'm sure that it's difficult to recite the Apostles' Creed and focus on worship when there's a young woman showing us things that none of us should be seeing accept your husband someday and your doctor. If you're going to dress like that for church, please show the men of the congregation the courtesy of sitting in the last row.)

(By the way, I'm not writing to those of you who are wearing the leggings with skirts of decent length. While it's not a look that I would wear because I'm too old for it [and pretty much any woman over forty is] and my legs are really too short to carry it off, you aren't showing us body parts that we shouldn't be seeing. I can live with that.)

Going out only half dressed is not a good idea for so many reasons: (1) you look like you have forgotten your pants, (2) you look like you don't know any better than a four-year-old little girl who is running around in her leotards and shirt because she doesn't know where her skirt is and her mom is too busy at the moment to help her find it, (3) a man who sees a woman who will go in public half dressed can only assume that she's more than willing to decrease that fraction when she's not in public, (4) and--the big one--it's immodest. And please don't say, "But I'm covered up." It's not just what you cover, it's how you cover it. Some garments have been designed in such a way (lingerie, bikinis, and leggings with short tops) that they cover something up only to draw attention to it so that male observers will imagine it uncovered.

Please come to your senses and show the world that women in the twenty-first century are tired of fashions that look good only on preschool children. Aim for something higher than WWLLD (What would Lindsey Lohan do?). Moms, teach your daughters that when it comes to beauty and feminine dignity, less is not always more. Can we leave the leggings in the little girls' department--where they belong?

Thank you.

Read to Grow

I was asked to write an article for our church's newsletter about a new reading program our library committee introduced in January of this year. We're only three months into Read to Grow, but so far it's been a success with those who are participating. Start a program like this in your church too! If you have any questions about how it works, leave it in the comments.

“The function of a good book is to stand like a signpost guiding the reader to the Truth and the Life.”
~A. W. Tozer

In January, fourteen Trinity URC readers and reader-families accepted the challenge of Read to Grow, a new program sponsored by the library committee. The goal of Read to Grow is to help readers grow spiritually as they increase their knowledge of the Scriptures by reading great Christian literature. The program helps our church library grow as well.

Late in 2010, Trinity members were invited to participate in the program, and fourteen individuals and families signed up. The program coordinator then selected fourteen books on a variety of subjects that would be circulated among the participants for the next fourteen months. The cost of the books was divided among the participants, with each participant paying about seven dollars to participate.

On the first Sunday in January, each participant received a book in their church mailbox. And each first Sunday of the month after that through February 2012, participating readers pass along the book they have been reading to the next reader on the schedule.  At the end of the rotation, the books will be donated to the library so that all the members of Trinity can have an opportunity to read them.

Several factors affected book selection. Because the books will ultimately end up in the church library, they had to meet the education committee’s guidelines for library books. Also, because readers have only a month to read the book, it was important to keep page counts reasonable—around two hundred pages at the most. And because men, women, teens, and even a few children are participating, it was important to choose titles that would have a broad appeal.

The various titles include children’s fiction and history books (that adults will learn from and enjoy too); several practical Christian living books on topics such as evangelism and family relationships; Bible-study-focused books on subjects like the seven signs in the gospel of John, how Jesus is revealed in the Old Testament feasts, and the happiness of heaven; and an exciting, inspiring autobiography of a godly young missionary who was held in a Japanese prison camp during World War II.

Participating readers are already finding Read to Grow to be a helpful program. Pastor Vos comments: “The Read to Grow program is a most beneficial program for the church, as it not only encourages us to grow in the grace and knowledge of Christ through good Christian literature, but also cultivates a sense of community as we read the same works.  The added benefit is that for a very minimal cost, we are able to build the church library for the benefit of many for years to come.  I encourage everyone (young and old alike) to participate and ‘read to grow.’” Rebecca Wright finds that it helps her be more diligent in her reading: “Read to Grow puts feet on my good intentions to read more faith-building books.  The genius is its simplicity: one book, one month, pass it on.  Simple and fun!” Jake Vierzen appreciates how the program is increasing his knowledge: “I joined Read to Grow because I wanted to continue to know God’s Word more, to deepen my understanding of Him, and because the deadlines would assist me in getting the books read! I have been very appreciative of the books that have been selected.”

Reading is an important discipline for the Christian, and a program like Read to Grow  encourages us to read books that will help us to be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Rom. 12:2). Those of us who are reading to grow in 2011 hope that you’ll join us in a new cycle of Read to Grow that will begin, Lord willing, in 2012. But those who want to start reading don’t need to wait until 2012 to begin. Visit our church library and get in training now with some great Christian books so that you are ready to take up the Read to Grow challenge in 2012.