8/29/12
Kristin Kluck: Worshiping at the Altar of Family
Christians understand the value of families. Those of us who are Reformed, in particular, understand that God always has worked through families, and he continues to do so at this point in history. But can our families become an idol? Kristin Kluck raises some interesting points as she considers this question.
8/17/12
It Could Be Worse
Recently I've been dealing with a trial--a hurtful situation that left me feeling discouraged, sad, and disappointed. On the spectrum of tragedies--well, it wouldn't even make it onto the spectrum of tragedies, and it's a situation that I would have been happy to have remained silent about, for the most part. But the miracle of Facebook left me responding to questions I hoped wouldn't be asked and addressing concerns that I hadn't wanted to share, and when I explain the situation, I quite frequently get the response, "Well, it could be worse." (I'm thankful to say that the situation has been resolved, and, for the most part, all is well.)
Yes, thank you, I know that. It could be a thousand times worse. Give me a pen and paper, time me for two minutes, and I can probably make a list of at least twenty-five ways it could be worse.You see, back in the nineties, I was the poster child for worse. My twenty-year-old sister died as a result of injuries she received in a car accident in 1990. Then in 1994, my thirty-three-year-old husband was diagnosed with acute myelogonous leukemia. And--worse--he died after extensive treatment in 1996 and left me a widow in my early thirties with two toddlers to raise alone. In the last half of the nineties, my two remaining grandparents died, along with an assortment of other relatives. Early in the great new millenium, I found myself employed by a Christian organization (not Discovery House Publishers, which was a tremendous blessing) that mistreated me, and with the cumulative effect of everything I had been through, I sank into a deep, clinical depression and was placed on medication.
I know about worse.
Yet when I think about all those tragic events, in every one I can imagine that things could have been worse. My sister and my former husband knew the Lord and are in heaven with him now. It could have been far worse if they had not been people who loved the Lord. I was not left penniless, with a terminal illness, all alone. My children and I were physically healthy through all of this (with the exception of my depression). I had been well educated and was able eventually to find work that I loved and a reasonably good salary to live on. As bad as all that was, it could have been worse.
Think about the worst thing that has ever happened to you. Now think about how it could have been worse--no matter how bad it was. You can think of something, I'm sure.
I once broke a small bone in my wrist. It hurt really bad. If someone had said to me while I was still in pain, "You know, it could be worse. You could have an inoperable brain tumor," she would have been absolutely right. But it wouldn't have taken away the pain of my small, minor fracture--or the reality that it needed treatment of some sort to heal and strengthen.
So I'm not quite sure what to do with the counsel that it could have been worse. I'm not sure that's the best thing we can say to a brother or sister who is hurting--whether we understand their pain or think they're overreacting or just know that something we personally have experienced was so much worse--and maybe it was. Pain is pain, and telling someone who is in pain that he or she could actually be experiencing even greater pain may be true, but it's not necessarily helpful. When we tell someone that things could be worse, it's as if we're saying that the pain they're feeling now is irrelevant because he or she could be experiencing greater, more intense, longer-lasting pain. But it doesn't take their very real and present pain away.
We can tell a person in pain that we're praying for her, that we love her and hope that she'll soon be able to sort things out. We can tell her we're sorry for her pain. We can offer to listen, and, as the Holy Spirit gives opportunity, give gentle, compassionate advice where it is needed and wanted. We can speak of the ways God has helped us in painful situations--how he has not left us alone and has given us all that we need in his Word to cope with the painful providences of our lives. But whatever the source of pain is, it is there, and there need to be healing and strengthening. And with that will eventually come the realization that God owes us nothing, and then we experience gratitude because the situation could always--and forever--be so much worse.
Yes, thank you, I know that. It could be a thousand times worse. Give me a pen and paper, time me for two minutes, and I can probably make a list of at least twenty-five ways it could be worse.You see, back in the nineties, I was the poster child for worse. My twenty-year-old sister died as a result of injuries she received in a car accident in 1990. Then in 1994, my thirty-three-year-old husband was diagnosed with acute myelogonous leukemia. And--worse--he died after extensive treatment in 1996 and left me a widow in my early thirties with two toddlers to raise alone. In the last half of the nineties, my two remaining grandparents died, along with an assortment of other relatives. Early in the great new millenium, I found myself employed by a Christian organization (not Discovery House Publishers, which was a tremendous blessing) that mistreated me, and with the cumulative effect of everything I had been through, I sank into a deep, clinical depression and was placed on medication.
I know about worse.
Yet when I think about all those tragic events, in every one I can imagine that things could have been worse. My sister and my former husband knew the Lord and are in heaven with him now. It could have been far worse if they had not been people who loved the Lord. I was not left penniless, with a terminal illness, all alone. My children and I were physically healthy through all of this (with the exception of my depression). I had been well educated and was able eventually to find work that I loved and a reasonably good salary to live on. As bad as all that was, it could have been worse.
Think about the worst thing that has ever happened to you. Now think about how it could have been worse--no matter how bad it was. You can think of something, I'm sure.
I once broke a small bone in my wrist. It hurt really bad. If someone had said to me while I was still in pain, "You know, it could be worse. You could have an inoperable brain tumor," she would have been absolutely right. But it wouldn't have taken away the pain of my small, minor fracture--or the reality that it needed treatment of some sort to heal and strengthen.
So I'm not quite sure what to do with the counsel that it could have been worse. I'm not sure that's the best thing we can say to a brother or sister who is hurting--whether we understand their pain or think they're overreacting or just know that something we personally have experienced was so much worse--and maybe it was. Pain is pain, and telling someone who is in pain that he or she could actually be experiencing even greater pain may be true, but it's not necessarily helpful. When we tell someone that things could be worse, it's as if we're saying that the pain they're feeling now is irrelevant because he or she could be experiencing greater, more intense, longer-lasting pain. But it doesn't take their very real and present pain away.
We can tell a person in pain that we're praying for her, that we love her and hope that she'll soon be able to sort things out. We can tell her we're sorry for her pain. We can offer to listen, and, as the Holy Spirit gives opportunity, give gentle, compassionate advice where it is needed and wanted. We can speak of the ways God has helped us in painful situations--how he has not left us alone and has given us all that we need in his Word to cope with the painful providences of our lives. But whatever the source of pain is, it is there, and there need to be healing and strengthening. And with that will eventually come the realization that God owes us nothing, and then we experience gratitude because the situation could always--and forever--be so much worse.
8/16/12
Battered Sheep
A good friend of mine recently pointed out a website that ministers to "battered sheep," people who have been badly hurt by abusive churches. For a number of reasons I can't recommend the website; it makes the mistake of blaming the wrong things (organized religion, formal church membership, taking membership vows) for the problems people have in churches--and the implications of these kinds of arguments are often that the problem is inherent to the church itself, and the solution is to leave it behind.
But the reality is that there are battered sheep out there, and it is way too easy to find them. And their solution to this problem, to the shame of the church and its leadership, is often to leave the place where they should be safe, protected, and loved because they've been beaten up and shattered. And they run away from the battering, often to places that are no more safe than the one they've left behind.
Why are sheep getting battered in churches? The simple answer is sin, of course. In order for there to be those who are battered, there must be batterers, and often those who hold authority in the church (as in marriages and families) do the wounding. They lose sight of their biblical role as servants and protectors and become aggressors. They use church discipline as a tool of vengeance or a means of promoting their own agenda. Perhaps it's because in some cases they haven't been trained well about what, exactly, an under-shepherd is supposed to do and be; maybe they aren't mature enough Christians to become as self-sacrificial as they need to be in caring for the sheep--but the end result, whatever lies at the root of it, is wounded sheep who run from the church to whatever appears to be the closest safe haven, who may never recover entirely from the injuries they have received.
While it's easy to sit in the pew and blame the leadership when a church member becomes a battered sheep, the rest of us sheep ought to be asking ourselves how we might have contributed to the battering. On the most basic level, have we prayed for those who have been called to be leaders in the church? If our church has a nominating and voting method of choosing elders, have we been active in drawing the leadership's attention to men who meet the qualifications laid out in Scripture? Have we made our votes carefully and prayerfully?
Once in awhile a story will circulate of some tragic situation in which spousal or parental abuse results in death for the victim. Neighbors, family members, friends--those close to the situation may have remained silent even though they were aware of the abusive situation. And they must live with the guilt of knowing that they could have done something, but didn't. While we are called to submit to those God has placed over us in the church, we must never become "ostrich" sheep who stick our heads in the sand while others around us are being battered. We must lovingly, respectfully confront those who would batter the sheep, so that we don't share in the responsibility for their injuries.
We need to gently point the battered sheep--and the batterers--to the Good Shepherd who will never abuse his sheep. We need to turn to him ourselves, asking him to protect his church from those who would batter and tear his sheep. He is the one who will lead us in such a way that we will never want.
But the reality is that there are battered sheep out there, and it is way too easy to find them. And their solution to this problem, to the shame of the church and its leadership, is often to leave the place where they should be safe, protected, and loved because they've been beaten up and shattered. And they run away from the battering, often to places that are no more safe than the one they've left behind.
Why are sheep getting battered in churches? The simple answer is sin, of course. In order for there to be those who are battered, there must be batterers, and often those who hold authority in the church (as in marriages and families) do the wounding. They lose sight of their biblical role as servants and protectors and become aggressors. They use church discipline as a tool of vengeance or a means of promoting their own agenda. Perhaps it's because in some cases they haven't been trained well about what, exactly, an under-shepherd is supposed to do and be; maybe they aren't mature enough Christians to become as self-sacrificial as they need to be in caring for the sheep--but the end result, whatever lies at the root of it, is wounded sheep who run from the church to whatever appears to be the closest safe haven, who may never recover entirely from the injuries they have received.
While it's easy to sit in the pew and blame the leadership when a church member becomes a battered sheep, the rest of us sheep ought to be asking ourselves how we might have contributed to the battering. On the most basic level, have we prayed for those who have been called to be leaders in the church? If our church has a nominating and voting method of choosing elders, have we been active in drawing the leadership's attention to men who meet the qualifications laid out in Scripture? Have we made our votes carefully and prayerfully?
Once in awhile a story will circulate of some tragic situation in which spousal or parental abuse results in death for the victim. Neighbors, family members, friends--those close to the situation may have remained silent even though they were aware of the abusive situation. And they must live with the guilt of knowing that they could have done something, but didn't. While we are called to submit to those God has placed over us in the church, we must never become "ostrich" sheep who stick our heads in the sand while others around us are being battered. We must lovingly, respectfully confront those who would batter the sheep, so that we don't share in the responsibility for their injuries.
We need to gently point the battered sheep--and the batterers--to the Good Shepherd who will never abuse his sheep. We need to turn to him ourselves, asking him to protect his church from those who would batter and tear his sheep. He is the one who will lead us in such a way that we will never want.
It Matters Whom You Marry--from Rebecca
My friend Rebecca has an excellent post titled "It Matters Whom You Marry." It's interesting that while so much of the Christian world is writing about young people marrying at older ages--and whether that is a good idea--so many of the young people that I come into contact with make the mistake of nearly idolizing marriage and make it the central goal and focus of pretty much everything. And the problem with this is that they become shortsighted and are willing to compromise faithfulness to Christ in order to achieve this highest goal. Rebecca offers great wisdom on what young women should be thinking about as they consider the man they would like to marry. Pass this gem on to the young woman in your life.
8/11/12
If I had a Twitter feed. . .
This is what it would say today:
Just giddy thinking about the future Ryan/Biden VP debate! Can't happen soon enough!
Just giddy thinking about the future Ryan/Biden VP debate! Can't happen soon enough!
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