This is me with my youngest, Olivia, while I was reading to Dustin earlier this week. (Soon I’ll have another little one in my lap like this)

Update:  This post is now a year old, but since Father’s Day is coming back around again and I’m getting back on track with these posts, I wanted to refresh it.  There was a lot of good feedback last year on it, so maybe it will be helpful to you.

Before Fathers Day slips away, I wanted to share some thoughts for and about dads.  We live in a culture that in some ways reveals a proper, if partial, picture of what fatherhood is; in other ways the picture of fatherhood is distorted and misleading.  Undiluted faith involves a right understanding of what it means to be a father, and that comes in part from understanding The Father – our heavenly Father.  This post is a brief exploration of just some of what God our Father does, and what that means for dads today.

When we take a Trinitarian view of the family, we understand that God the Father is called “the Father” for a reason.  Fathers today can actually learn more about their roles through pondering His.  How God the Father acts can show dads how to act.

God is the Ultimate Mr. Fix It

If you take a step back and look at the scope of human history from the Bible, this picture of the Father emerges.  God takes our problems, our messes, our unsolvable disasters and does the impossible with them.  To our “credit,” we have a knack for getting ourselves into those sorts of situations.  The largest of these began in the Garden of Eden with one act of defiance, and the ugly maw of sin continues to leer at humanity with its jaws gaping open at us in mockery of our foolishness.  What can we possibly do about that?  We’re like a pelican in the middle of an oil spill, completely lacking the ability to clean the crude off our carcass.  This is where our Mr. Fix It Father steps in.

“But God…”  That’s how the Bible puts it in Romans 5:8.  In the middle of our sinful predicament (“while we were still sinners“), God stepped in and “demonstrated His love toward us.”  God sent His Son to be the sacrifice for our sins, making the biggest mess in history both fixed (by Christ’s once and for all sacrifice) and in the process of being fixed (when believers receive glorified bodies and sin and death are ultimately thrown into the lake of fire).  And in the Bible there are countless other messes that God fixes along the way.  God fixed the mess Joseph’s brothers made when they sold him into slavery.  He fixed the mess made by Jonah when he ran the other way.  He fixed the mess the Apostle Paul was making on his way to Damascus.  Our God is the ultimate Mr. Fix It.

Every time dads clean up the messes of their children, they emulate the Father who fixes.  Those messes could be jelly on faces, tables, clothing, and walls.  Or maybe they are the result of misbehavior in school, teen pregnancy, a suicide attempt, or any other multitude of crises that develop. And while dads may not have all the answers, they can turn to the One who does, because the Father always has the plan.  Men today are the fixers – the primary shoppers at hardware stores, the owners of tools, the ones under the car changing the oil before they get on the ladder to repair the shingles – and our culture does a decent job at portraying that, too.

God takes a long view of any given situation

The fixes can take a lot of time, too.  Remember, Joseph’s fix came about twenty years after the mess, and it took thousands of years for Jesus to come after that first sin.  This is a reminder that God is known for His patience.  Even though He is holy and cannot stand sin, He has the forbearance with His people in their sinful state.  As a foster parent, I see a lot of “fixes” I want to make with my kids, but the reality is that there is too much to fix at any given time.  I end up fixing the more pressing matters.  Then I realize that while I think I’m fixing them, God is actually fixing me still.  He is building up a certain patience within me, deepening a compassion that isn’t based on surface behavior but on unconditional love.

While some people point out the judgment of God and make Him out as a capricious God who looks for opportunities to send judgment, the opposite is true of our patient God.  I heard a sermon today from Pastor Alan T. Neiman of Lakeside Fellowship Church in Vero Beach, Florida, and he described God from the parable of the Prodigal Son as having “open arms” waiting for His children.  In fact, He is what Timothy Keller calls the Prodigal God, because of the overflowing grace God so prodigiously (going back to the initial meaning of prodigal) pours out.  God woos His children back to Him and knows it may take time.  Dads who exhibit the patience and steadfast consistency with their children are just like their heavenly Father in this way.  The Father stays in control without imposing His will.  Any dad who exhibits grace and patience – especially in the difficult situations – is showing a picture of the heavenly Father.  There are times for discipline, of course (just ask my kids!), but mere discipline is a misleading and incomplete picture of God.

The Father’s love outweighs His dignity

God is motivated by His love and not His standing.  He is like that father in the Prodigal Son parable who ran – an undignified act for any man of good standing in that culture – because his love for his son was simply too great for anything else.  He endures scorn from His children and the obvious counter-intuitive nature of the gospel itself.  1 Corinthians 1 describes God’s plan of salvation (“the message of the cross”) as foolishness – His foolishness.  He used a foolish-looking plan to rescue us.  It is a messy plan, full of blood and gore that leaves God looking ridiculous and humiliated.  The result, however, is a thing of beauty that shows God the Father rolling up His sleeves and embracing His children, whom He has redeemed in the most amazing way.

How far are fathers today willing to go in their love?  They demonstrate their love when those loving acts can leave them looking silly and yet don’t prevent them from still doing them.  A week ago I was headed to a conference, one where I wouldn’t want to look foolish in front of others (is there any other kind?).  My kids were by the pool swimming, and one of my daughters got out of the pool, wrapped herself in a towel, and plopped in my lap.  I knew what was going to happen, but I cherished that moment of holding my little girl in my arms.  Sure enough, once she got up I was left with her wet imprint on the front of my shorts and the appearance that I had a rather embarrassing accident!  Love must outweigh dignity in order to be true, fatherly love.

Today or tomorrow, thank the dads that you know.  Tell them you are thankful for the ways their fatherly actions point us to God the Father (perhaps in ways I haven’t even mentioned).  Express how different they are from the dads portrayed in sitcoms on TV.  Thank them for not bowing to the pressure of ads to men that tempt fathers to focus more on their own pleasure than the well-being of their own family.

Happy Fathers Day!

I have a bad track record with windshield wipers.  Somehow they don’t seem to last long enough for me.  They’ll go more than a few days, of course, but it doesn’t seem to take much time at all for that solitary line to streak across my windshield…then it becomes that wide-banded blur of road-grime-tainted water streaking across two thirds of my viewing area.  That’s when I take strong, decisive action:  I decide to deal with it.  It’s good enough, right?  I’ve got young eyes that can see pretty well, and after that moth pays the ultimate price to decorate my windshield in one final, selfless act, the least I could do is preserve its memory for awhile.  At night, I simply need to avert my eyes toward guardrails to avoid the blinding light of oncoming headlights reflecting after dirt particles.  No big deal.  Then I run out of washer fluid.  That’s not a problem, either, because once God sends the rain I have one more reason to be thankful for it.  He decided to clean my windshield for me.

But we all have windshield wiper issues.  There we are looking ahead toward the path where God is leading us, and our view gets obscured.  Even though we could see so clearly before, it’s not so bad now.  The view is still kind of there.  That’s when we take strong, decisive action and choose to deal with it.  So the moth of lust just slammed into your windshield, making an ugly mess.  You don’t want to smear it around, do you?  Your washer fluid reservoir – the one that is replenished when you immerse yourself in God’s Word – is running on empty.  Even if the fluid was there, those wiper blades are getting pretty cruddy.  Those arms, so practiced at removing the sinful distractions at life, are even more adept at selectively allowing certain things to slip through.  The gossip is okay with a certain friend, the one who usually brings it up in the first place.  You’re just keeping the conversation going.  You might watch a little too much TV, but everyone needs an outlet for relaxation.  Every week (though it’s sometimes two or three) you get a good rinsing from those showers of blessing that come in the church service.  You remember some alliterated sermon points and even went to Sunday School – practically a wash and wax job!  So a spotty, grimy windshield with an empty reservoir and inefficient wiper blades are no big deal.

I’ve done this…countless times.  I don’t mean relating my spiritual life to windshield wipers and road grime.  I mean settling for a version of my faith that is simply “good enough.”  Sometimes my version of following God (as if I’m entitled to my own version) is characterized by little effort, a lot of useless motions, no cleansing power, and aimless plodding along because I’ve gotten used to an obscured view of God.  Sometimes I see the benefit of clearly seeing God and being led directly by Him, but other times I let my view get so clouded for so long that it becomes the new picture of my faith.  I’d rather keep looking at the sin as it blocks my view of God than to actually clear it out of the way and see God for who He is.

My denomination is meeting in Baltimore right now, with a pastor’s conference geared toward one plea to our heavenly Father:  Show me your glory!  That’s what Moses asked of God.  This is the same Moses who ascended the mountain to be with God and returned with a glowing face from his time in God’s presence.  He still wanted more; he yearned to be in the presence of God, experiencing God’s glory.  The rest of Israel, like so many Christians today, had a different response.  As Francis Chan shared earlier, Christians would forego a hike up the mountain to be with God in order to take selfies with Moses.

The obscured faith invents new heroes

When we get to the point where we do not desire God’s presence, other things take its place.  Sometimes good things get elevated to a position that belongs to God.  I can read books or use Bible study software for hours on end without meeting with God, the ultimate subject of those resources.  I can find a Christian leader who is the voice I choose to hear for matters of faith.  I can replace my prayer time with Christian music.  I can bankrupt myself while keeping my useless blades busy in a frenzied cadence, impressing people with my devotion.  It’s repulsive.  It’s repulsive because I’ve done it before.  You likely have, too, though perhaps your version of it is different.  The bugs that hit your windshield may not be the ones that hit mine, and your wiper blades likely developed a different wear pattern.  What have we settled for?

The obscured faith loses its influence

In our culture there are churches who have compromised on doctrine because their windshield has been obscured for a long time.  They are made up of individuals whose views have likewise been obscured to the point that their attention is neither on God nor on the path He has laid out for them.  The splatters of the culture which dominate their view become the stars by which they navigate, the plotting points for their destination.  A dramatic shift has happened.  The church has begun to emulate culture.

The role of the church is to be a light.  It is meant to show the world the light of Christ and so lead it to repentance and salvation.  When the church begins taking its cues from the world, it relinquishes its God-given task of influencing the world and becomes a tool of society.  It spends its time reflecting culture and not Christ.

Clear faith

Change must come when individuals, tired of the effort it takes to work so hard while being so ineffective, finally acknowledge their need for God – not something “good enough” or a suitable replacement, but God Himself in their lives.  There aren’t any special secrets to this.  It is just as simple and difficult as it ever was.  Get into God’s Word.  Get alone with Him.  Talk to Him and dwell on the things of God.  Clear out that sin, not with your own strength but with the power of Scripture and its ability to renew your mind.  Then you get your direction back.  You get the compelling purpose and leadership provided for believers:  Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Rom 12:2 NIV)

Many people are simply looking for compelling faith, even (or especially) those who are not Christians.  Some of them even test believers for the express purpose of seeing if they hold true to their faith.  Sadly, when that uncomfortable Christian, who has been staring more at culture than at Christ, is faced with these uncomfortable challenges, he or she backs down, tones down doctrine and attempts to show how it fits with some belief of the world.  Don’t do it.  Keep your faith strong, your direction clear, and don’t settle for a “good enough” version of your faith.  Only take the real deal, resist the devil, and draw near to God (James 4:7).

Have you heard about Bryan College?  It recently found itself surrounded by controversy after requiring its faculty to agree to an expanded belief statement that indicated belief in Adam and Eve as historical people.  Certain students and faculty members led the uproar against this amended statement.  On student, Allison Baker, was reported in an article by NY Times reporter, Alan Blinder, as saying, “It makes Bryan a different place.  I would argue it makes it a more narrow place.”  She’s absolutely right.

Bryan College is a Christian college founded in memory of William Jennings Bryan, who in its town of Dayton, TN, prosecuted John Thomas Scopes for teaching evolutionary theory in public school.  There is a bit of irony then in the nature of this controversy.  A school named after the man who famously argued against evolution is in the hot seat for clarifying its beliefs against evolution.  Why exactly is Allison Baker right when she states that this updated belief statement makes Bryan College “a more narrow place”?  Because truth itself requires narrowness.  Ms. Baker is right, much more than she realizes.

Earlier today I mentioned in my previous post that I would explain how the Sweetbay Magnolia tree I saw, with its branches snaking along in search of patches of light was a metaphor not merely for individuals but also for the church today.  If Bryan College remains committed to a biblical worldview and its attendant truth, this updated beliefs statement will not be its last.  The church is like the Sweetbay Magnolia.  In every culture the shadows fall differently over the church, whose branches must grope for the light of the gospel.  Upon finding that light, the energy of truth allows the church to continue to grow and flourish.

I have just started reading Historical Theology, by Gregg Allison.  It was a gift from my dad after graduating seminary the other week.  In its pages it recounts the fascinating ways that Christian teachings have changed over the course of two millennia.  Albert Mohler noted that confessional statements get longer over time, not shorter, because new heresies develop that threaten them.  Did you know that, while we need to argue for Jesus’ divinity nowadays, early Christians had to argue for His humanity?  Cultural shadows were different then.  Another example comes from the belief on the inspiration of Scripture.  For centuries Christians called the Bible inspired by God (as 2 Timothy 3:16 makes clear), and this affirmation held that the Bible was trustworthy in all matters.  In the late 19th century, however, the inspiration of Scripture was explained differently, equated with the inspiration an artist has before painting a masterpiece.  B. B. Warfield had to apply a new term – infallibility.  From there, another descriptor – inerrancy – was added to further clarify against changes.  Truth is narrow, and any entity committed to truth will continue to narrowly define it.

Take a moment to think about the shadows cast over the church today.  Where have the previously sunny spots of Christianity been darkened?  It has been six decades since the ideals of Christianity were deemed important to the larger American society.  Something of a revolt against those times has taken place.  The church finds itself under a shadow of cultural engagement.  It must again position itself in the light of truth within this culture so that it can continue to communicate with it.  At no point can the church be content to exist under any cultural shadow.  When that takes place, it has already been overshadowed and will cease to have any active presence.  That’s why magnificent church structures dot the European landscape while their congregants are nowhere to be found.  In many cases the churches have been sold and have new congregations, there edifices now housing pubs and other places of business.

Let’s pray that the controversy surrounding Bryan College will settle down and that the right faculty members will continue teaching the truth.  Stephen Livesay, the college’s president, made some interesting remarks about the wording change and about the outlook of the school:

We want to remain faithful to the historical charter of the school and what we have always practiced through the years.  There has never been a need, up until today, to truly clarify and make explicit what has been part of the school for 84 years.  We want to make certain that we view culture through the eyes of faith, and that we don’t view our faith through the eyes of culture.

The church must endeavor to do the same.  It must clarify the unchanging truth upon which it stands and do so in a way that it can effectively minister to culture.  Any distinction we hope to have must be rooted in Scripture and embodied by loving acts.  We cannot adjust our doctrine to appeal to the world; neither can we retreat into our church buildings and ignore the change.  We must, as Paul said, “speak the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15).

I recently found myself trudging through the hills near Black Mountain, North Carolina, looking for answers.  A lot of change has come my way in the past few years, much more over the past few weeks.  Every bit of that change is good, but like a steep mountain trail traversing the gorgeous beauty of its natural surroundings, the journey is nonetheless arduous at times.  We have gone from zero to four children in a little over two years.  Karen commented to me the other day that so many coupons appeal to us now that wouldn’t have a couple years ago.  These changes I wouldn’t trade for the world – how could I not stand back in appreciative awe at the “Patchwork Family,” as we call it, which God has so graciously given us?  And yet, this wonderful gift has so drastically changed every aspect of our lives that sometimes I wonder how I can get to all those other ambitious goals that I believe God has for me, too?

Continue reading →

Last Wednesday my wife, Karen, gave birth to our new daughter, Olivia.  We do have kids already, but she is the first that we have given birth to.  In our experience, kids typically enter our family via a few signatures; they come potty-trained and automatically sleep through the night.  Going through the pregnancy and delivery process has been an altogether different experience.  I knew my wife would work hard through labor, and I expected to put forth a lot of effort, too.  I had no idea just how exhausted even I would be afterward, though!  Of course, it is all worth it to welcome our newest child into the world. Continue reading →

Spend any amount of time in London and you’ll find yourself trying to get around on “The Tube,” the London Underground subway
system.  Imagine – You and a friend just finished riding the London Eye and are now strolling across Westminster Bridge.  As you both admire Big Ben, your stomach growls loudly, startling your friend and letting you both know that it’s time to eat.  The downside

is that you just shelled out £29.50 for your trip on the Eye and seriously cut into your meal money.  You and your friend weigh your options as you get closer to Westminster Station on the other side of the bridge.  Finally you and your friend look at each other and say in unison, “Takeaway!”  You walk into the station to take a train to Paddington.  Moving past other travelers and through the turnstyles you both make your way to the track.  Your stomach keeps growling, but your friend’s stomach kindly joins the conversation.  It’s a bit difficult to focus on much else once the train pulls up.  Fortunately a friendly British voice calls out a familiar
reminder to you as you board:  MIND THE GAP!  Between the platform and the train is a slight gap that people are warned of so that they don’t hurt themselves boarding.  This phrase is so common that it can be found on tee shirts, coffee mugs, and anything else that can be screen printed.  It also serves to alert Christians of their need to mind the cultural gap.