Lessons Learned in Fatherhood

We’ve had a pretty rough week in our house this week, most notably because our oldest son came down with croup.  The first night, we slept in shifts as our son continued to wake up terrified and having difficulty breathing.  After a trip to the doctor, we thought we had the problem solved with a few doses of a mild steroid.  We couldn’t have been more wrong…

It turns out that some small children have experience adverse effects when on steroids, and our little man basically broke out into a series of what we can only call “roid rage” fits.  For the last three days, he has been inconsolable for hours on end, aggressive, irritable, and completely out of character from the sweet boy that we have parented.

I’ll recount last night for you:

  • Wakes up whining at 5 am.
  • Throws a fit because he wants to sleep on the couch.
  • Take him to the couch, continues to throw a fit because he wants to sleep in our bed.
  • He proceeds to kick and hit me, and I have to restrain him for the next 45 minutes.

Why do I recount the story?  Because in parenting my son through last night, I learned something very poignant about the nature of fatherhood, and about God’s relationship with me during some rough times.

Here is how my son’s objections went while I was trying to calm him down and keep him from hurting himself and me (so you don’t think I’m a terrible parent, I was simply firmly holding him to my chest so he couldn’t thrash around…no physical harm came to my child):

  • “I want to go sleep in the bed daddy, I want that daddy”
  • “I want mommy…I want mommy”
  • “I want down daddy…let me go daddy”
  • “You’re hurting me daddy”
  • “Why won’t you talk to me daddy?”
  • “You’re hurting me so bad daddy”
  • “Please talk to me daddy!”

This is about when he started to calm down, so I began to sing to him and talked with him about calming down and trying to go to sleep.  As I was there with him though, I couldn’t help but notice how closely this parallels some of my difficult times with our Heavenly Father when He seems to remain silent.

  • I want something and I don’t even know why, I just assume it will make me feel better.
  • I try to run to someone else who I think can make it better.
  • I simply want to be released from Him, and allowed to run away.
  • I think by God not giving me satisfaction in either of those things that he is hurting me.
  • God remains silent, and I wonder why He won’t simply talk with me.
  • The pain gets worse, and I question His goodness.
  • I beg God to talk with me, because I want to know why.
  • Finally, He speaks-silently, but firmly, that He loves me and it is for my good.
  • I end up exhausting myself and finally resting in His embrace.

There are two things that really struck me last night.  First, I never let my son out of my embrace, regardless of how badly he thrashed and the things he pined after.  God, in the same way, never lets His children out of his embrace, even though it may seem unpleasant or non-existent.  Secondly, my silence was for the good of my son, because my words would have only exacerbated his condition and prolonged the fit.  I wonder if those times when God seems distant and silent are simply because He knows his immediate presence would only cause further rebellion in us.

All this to say that I am thankful that God is a perfect Father.  Praise Him that he never lets go of His children, and praise Him that he indeed works all things for the good of those who are called according to His purpose, even when it seems as though it is not.

The love of our Heavenly Father never fails.

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The Whole and Heart of the Gospel | Cardus

I found this summary from Ray Pennings (HT: Kevin Young) of Reformed theological positions on cultural/social engagement to be particularly helpful in identifying the predominant understandings churches tend to have of gospel and culture.  Below is the core of the article:

Neocalvinism focuses on the comprehensiveness of the gospel claim. “Every square inch” belongs to Christ, and the full effects of the cross—as fully conquering sin, including its effects in the groaning creation—are emphasized. “Grace restores nature,” and although we will have to wait for the new heaven and the new earth for this to be fully realized, worshiping the Lord Jesus as King today means acknowledging and living out of that kingship. That means challenging the presuppositions of secular reasoning and working carefully with both the books of creation and revelation.

The “two kingdom perspective” that has become associated with Westminster Theological Seminary in California brings at least two valuable insights to the conversation. Negatively, it warns against the hubris that sometimes can accompany an attempt to define “the” Christian position on various contemporary issues. There is inevitable ambiguity that characterizes Christian life in a fallen world. Positively, it brings a very strong ecclesiology into the conversation, emphasizing the calling of believers to focus on their place in the church and the bride of Christ, and to emphasize the transcendence of the gospel.

Neopuritans (which I prefer as a term to describe that group which Time magazine described as New Calvinists) focus on the sovereignty of God and the glory of God. In so far as one can discern a coherent political philosophy uniting the diverse group of writers commonly associated with this group, Albert Mohler’s focus on love as a unifying principle comes as close as any: “Love of neighbor grounded in our love for God requires us to work for good in the City of Man, even as we set as our first priority the preaching of the gospel, [which is] the only means of bringing citizens of the City of Man into citizenship of the city of God.” In practice, this perspective results in an approach that is more individualistic than corporate, focuses more extensively on responding to the needs of our neighbours through the diaconal ministry of the church, and relies on being an example, resisting cultural trends and intentionally working towards a Christian counter-culture.

This survey of perspectives would not be complete without acknowledging a fourth approach which, for lack of better term, I will label as “Old Calvinism.” (The variants of this argument almost inevitably suggest that there is something about the “old paths” that is being lost in the process of cultural engagement.) One example of this approach is John MacArthur, who has essentially come to the conclusion that engaging the city inevitably leads the church to worldliness and that when the church attempts to engage the culture, the culture is usually more effective at influencing the church. MacArthur has argued that Christian political activism has four results: it (1) denigrates the sovereignty of God over human history and events, (2) uses fleshly and selfish means to promote biblical values, (3) creates a false sense of morality, and (4) risks alienating unbelievers by viewing them as political enemies rather than a mission field. Promoting godly living and the fruits of the Spirit is a mission “far more good and profitable to men than any amount of social and political activism . . . [Christians] are content very much to let the worldly people deal with the worldly things of this world.”

I have certainly been wrestling through these issues myself, and have had some exposure to each theological stream.  The difficulty in understanding this particular issue is that the arguments for each position are predominantly born out of extensions of philosophical theology or from an extension of applied biblical theology.

If I were to peg what position I most closely align with, it would probably be the “neopuritanism” camp at this point, which is less of a well-informed biblical position, and moreso based upon observations of ministry around me and the actual practice of my life.  While I would agree completely with the neo-Calvinist perspective theologically, I practically tend to view the transformation of culture as a derivative of transformation of the individual through the power of the gospel.  This certainly gives me some things to chew on however…

Care to chime in? I’d love some thoughts in a comment!

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A Gospel-Centered Reader | Timmy Brister

I stumbled across this resource a couple of weeks ago, but neglected to post it…the link below is an excellent compilation of Gospel-centered resources from Timmy Brister.  Give it a look!

A Gospel-Centered Reader

Timmy also just posted a links to Soma Community’s resources of “Living Inside the Gospel Story” here.  I’m planning on doing some survey of the material this week, but let me know your thoughts!

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Called | JD Greear

I loved JD Greear‘s thoughts on calling as they are seeking to plant 1000 churches in 40 years.  Below is the excerpt:

First, calling is not:

* Necessarily a Burning Bush/Damascus Road/Warm Fuzzy experience. We all want the Mark Driscoll, “God told me to marry Grace, plant churches, and train men” kind of experience, and that happens sometimes. But the “burning bush” experience is not how most of God’s servants are called–either in the Bible or in church history. Charles Spurgeon was clear he never got anything like that. I didn’t either. The only bushes that have ever spoke to me were the ones at Southpoint that have the music coming out of them.

* A special instruction to live missionally. Radical commitment to the Great Commission and radical sacrifice on its behalf are not the special assignment of a chosen few, but a mandate for all. Sometimes I think we have invented this whole language of calling to mask the fact that 90% of church-going Christians aren’t living missionally.

* An excuse to passively wait for God rather than actively pursue ministry. Most of God’s miracles in the Bible happened not because someone did what He told them to do, but because they saw an opportunity to advance the Kingdom of God and they asked God to help them.

Rather, calling is:

* A church-recognized combination of your God-given abilities, giftings and experiences with opportunities God gives you. Ability + Affinity + Need = Calling (usually speaking).

via jdgreear.com: What it means to be called//SENDRDU.

I really like that he emphasizes the communal, church-centric view of calling, as it highlights the difference of our tendency today toward an individualized “calling gnosticism” – an individual hears directly from God, without any confirmation from Scripture or community, and chases a calling to seminary or some institution outside their primary fellowship.  My story of “calling” to vocational ministry happened because my church leaders recognized my giftings, and because I found a passion in ministry and there was an opportunity for it in our local body.

This definition of calling highlights two very important things: the church AND the individual.  First the church must have a passion for helping people identify their abilities and gifts, and provide opportunities to exercise them in ministry. Secondly, the individual needs to have some requisite skill and a passion for the ministry, not simply a general inkling that they may want to do it.

That’s not to say God doesn’t operate in the directed calling of an individual, I just don’t think it is normative for believers.  We know God’s calling through His Word, the community of believers, and the leading of the Holy Spirit.

Thoughts?

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Avoiding the Bureaucratic Death Spiral | What’s Best Next

Matt Perman pulled a great quote from a book that I love, Good to Great by Jim Collins, over at What’s Best Next.  The basic gist (for those who won’t read below), is that bureaucracy kills entrepreneurial spirit, while discipline sustains it.

Entrepreneurial success is fueled by creativity, imagination, bold moves into uncharted waters, and visionary zeal. [Then] as a company grows and becomes more complex, it begins to trip over its own success — too many new people, too many new customers, too many new orders, too many new products.

What was once great fun becomes an unwieldy ball of disorganized stuff. Lack of planning, lack of accounting, lack of systems, and lack of hiring creates constant friction. Problems surface — with customers, with cash flow, with schedules.

The professional managers finally rein in the mess. They create order out of chaos, but they also kill the entrepreneurial spirit [emphasis added]…

The creative magic begins to wane as some of the most innovative people leave, disgusted by the burgeoning bureaucracy and hierarchy. The exciting start-up transforms into just another company, with nothing special to recommend it. The cancer of mediocrity begins to grow in earnest.

Here’s why this quote scares me: my current role on our staff is to create some order out of chaos.  We are in a season of transition as a church, and I am spearheading the effort to create some order.  So the real question is, how do I honor those who have innovated and created and create systems which still allow entrepreneurial freedom?

Collins’ answer is below:

Most people build their bureaucratic rules to manage the small percentage of wrong people on the bus, which in turn drives away the right people on the bus, which then increases the percentage of wrong people on the bus, which increases the need for more bureaucracy to compensate for incompetence and lack of discipline, which then further drives the right people away, and so forth.… An alternative exists: Avoid bureaucracy and hierarchy and instead create a culture of discipline. When you put these two complementary forces together — a culture of discipline with an ethic of entrepreneurship — you get the magical alchemy of superior performance and sustained results.

So the answer is to create a culture of discipline…excellent.  Next question: how?

And this is what I’m spending most of my time thinking on.  How do I create a culture of discipline, which stays true to our vision and builds a structure for endurance, while also leaving room for innovation?  When do I say yes to great ideas? When do I say no?

I’d love your thoughts…drop me a comment!

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