It's a Boy!!!

Grandchildren.  Hands down, the best thing about “growing old"!  Can I get an amen??

 

Our first grandson is just over a year old, and we’re expecting grandson number two in mid-September.  Baby Jack was showered this weekend by dozens of family members and friends with more gifts than he will ever receive on this side of his mom’s tummy.  While he was given lots of practical things…like a crib mattress, stroller, car seat, and a diaper pail…the really fun stuff were the tiny little outfits, shoes, and hats that celebrate his miniature manhood.  From football jerseys to shark swimmies, no one will mistake this little fella for a girl!

Our kids, both of them, made the now sort of routine decision to find out the gender of their baby.  I was a little ambivalent, since for so many years (like thousands) families had babies without this information and it seemed to me that the mystery was part of the fun.  However, I have to admit that it has been so sweet to call these boys by their names from before we actually held them in our arms and we have had so much fun preparing for their arrival with boy stuff.  

 

That said, I have been thinking this weekend about how odd it is that the generation so enamored with discovering, preparing for and celebrating the gender of their babies while still in their mommies womb is the same generation clamoring for our culture to stop insisting on gender identification.  Isn’t that weird?   

Recent headlines have announced the increasing demand for gender-neutral restrooms (there’s one in the White House) and locker rooms.  Sweden has adopted a gender-neutral pronoun.  And the University of Vermont is now recognizing a third gender:  neutral.  Over the weekend, I noticed among the posts and pictures about the lives of my friends and family on Facebook an illustration of a woman with this “thought bubble” above her head: 

“The problem with gender is that it prescribes how we should be

rather than recognizing how we are.”

What?!?!  This from the young people spending millions of dollars on elaborate “gender reveal” parties that include secretly colored baked goods, or sealed boxes of pink or blue balloons, or some equally creative means to announce the gender of the as-yet-to-be-born baby.  Couples then register for gender-specific clothes, design nursery décor with gender in mind, and agonize over a name (or two) for their little prince or princess.  Honestly, I’m scratching my head. 

 

Never in our history has so much been made of the issue of gender.  And, while I’m not exactly sure what she means, to whatever degree the lady with the bubble articulates the direction we’re headed, we’re on a pathway that leads not to freedom, but to destruction.

It should go without saying that the gender “idea” began in the mind of God, the only Being who actually possesses the power to create whatever His will determines. 

 

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God, he created him; male and female he created them.” [1] 

 

The audacity, therefore, to even articulate a thought that begins with “the problem with gender” demonstrates both an ignorance and a willfulness that is worrisome as I think about the future for my grandsons.

There are (at least) two equally challenging issues before us as Christ-followers.  The first is that we must rediscover (or discover for the first time!) the glory of God’s plan for gender.  This was not an afterthought on His part, a casual slap of paint on the canvas of creation.  People were created by God in His image – male and female.  That statement is stunning in its significance.  We’ve heard the details over and over from the days of picture books and coloring pages to felt boards and “Bob and Larry’s Creation Vacation”[2], but I’m afraid we’ve lost the marvel and power of this incredible act of grace at the hand of the Creator of the Universe.  How will we, as a church, recover the joy-filled, God-glorifying, hope-inspiring plan of the Father for male and female if all we know of that plan is relegated to caricatures and stick figures?   How will we “recognize how we are” without digging deep into the heart and mind of God through His Word?

Second, and perhaps more sobering, is that we must examine our own hearts to identify the willfulness and self-rule that entertains (aka “likes” on Facebook!) such a thought that begins with the words:  “The problem with gender…”   Those four words, strung together as they are here, are a powder-keg of rebellion because the suggestion is that

God made a mistake.

               That His plan was flawed. 

                               That the creation is better, wiser, more clever than the Creator. 

So we make our own way.  Choose our own path.   Live independently.  This is, after all, the American way.  (Cue the Battle Hymn of the Republic.)

 

Except that several thousand years ago another woman had a similar thought to the one that appeared on my Facebook feed.  Picture Eve as she is depicted in the first few verses of Genesis 3.  With the beautiful but deadly serpent in the background, the “thought bubble” above her head reads:  “The problem with God’s plan…”

Turns out we’re not terribly original.  Sigh.

For this evening, I’m clinging to the last few verses of Genesis 3 --- the Gospel verses where Jesus defeats that lying enemy[3] --- as I enthusiastically and without reserve declare:  Yup…it’s a boy!   Anybody got a problem with that?   J

 

---

[1] Genesis 1:27

[2] A Veggie Tales “I Can Read” book – Bob & Larry take a seven day tour of God’s creation

[3] Genesis 3:15!

My Voice has an Echo

So, now you know the not-so-lovely side of me*.  My struggle --- just what exactly is godly womanhood and what does that look like for me? – has been costly.  To me, personally.  To my gracious and patient husband.  To our kids and, to some degree, their spouses. 

But the issue of disdain for men, of prideful independence, of haughty condescension is not a singularly personal matter. I have read dozens of books on the subject of what it means to be a godly woman, and while I’ve learned a great deal, I’ve been surprised by the disregard of many Christian authors for their husbands and brothers --- for the male species in general.  One such book came across my desk recently and within the first twenty pages I had highlighted four sarcastic, condescending (presumably funny?) quips about the laziness, stupidity, and general “cluelessness” of men. I did not finish the book.

 Just a cursory glance at Facebook offers plenty of examples of women who are quick to mock and/or criticize their husbands.  Status remarks like:  “I sent Mike[1] to the store for whipping cream and he actually came home with Cool Whip.  This is why it is easier to do everything ourselves.”  Followed by these comments:  “Actually, I think that’s why they do it.  So we will stop asking them to do things”, and “The truth is that I doubt they know the difference.  So why bother.”  Ugh.

One episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” reveals its title as a misnomer.  Ray, whom “everybody loves,” is repeatedly typecast as an unthinking, unfeeling, disengaged, television-watching, sports-loving mama’s boy.  Deborah, his wife, is smarter, kinder, more savvy and productive.  She corrects him, condescends to him, and dismisses him in every episode.  If Deborah’s relationship with Ray is “love,” it’s no wonder this generation is slow to marry.

These examples are not meant to cast dispersion on the “world out there”.  To quote Susan Hunt in her book The True Woman, “I don’t mean to stand in judgment of others.  What is so terrifying is that too often this is my voice.”[2] Deborah’s disdain for Ray too often mirrors my own – for my husband, my brothers, our pastors, for men in general.  

Unfortunately, however, the voice that emanates from my wicked heart has an echo that reverberates throughout our culture in ways that are far more worrisome than snide facebook commentary or sarcastic sitcom humor.  And while it’s easy to spot the dramatic consequences of our collective gender rebellion – such as the recent decision of our Supreme Court to legalize same-sex marriage - the more subtle but equally disastrous effects can be seen in our judicial, economic, educational, and even our healthcare systems.

The ramification of my own failure and disdain as a woman for the men in my life is not strictly "personal".  It echoes the moral sin of our nation -- sin whose influence has had dramatic impact on almost every area of our lives.

If you are skeptical, take this challenge:  watch one hour of news (local or “world”), or read a popular magazine, see what’s trending on twitter, or watch one hour of primetime television.  Ask yourself:  how has the demand for gender equality and uniformity influenced what I am reading/watching?

Do you hear the echo...echo...echo...?

 

 

* NOTE:  This is the second installment in a series

---

[1] This is a fictitious name

[2] The True Woman, Susan Hunt, p. 50/51

 

Away in a Manger. In July.

I have had the distinct privilege of enjoying more than thirty years with the same man.  Our children are married with children of their own (almost…our second grandchild is coming soon!).  We have had a good marriage.  Chas and I have enjoyed our years together.  He is a great dad and a fully-committed husband who is probably my biggest fan.  He has been “for” me over all of these years and has contributed to my effective ministry in ways that I cannot begin to define.  He is steady and faithful and funny.  He has been a formative influence on both of our children, on my own brothers, and on many other young men who have worked with him over the years.  I am forever grateful for the gift of our life together.

But our story, like most I suppose, is not without its disappointment.

Several days before Christmas, our little family gathered around the advent wreath to hear from God’s word and light the candle.  My then two-year old, Hannah, while enamored by the ritual, had no idea of its significance.  She stood on a chair between her daddy and me, with her arms around us for both balance and affection.  My husband read the little devotion for the night, and then read the Scripture.  Following the instructions, Chas encouraged us to sing “Away in a Manger” together.  Hannah loved to sing, so we launched into the first verse.

                “Away in a manager, no crib for a bed.  The little Lord Jesus, lay down his sweet head….”

                Now maybe this doesn’t happen to you, and I’m certain it reveals my own immaturity, but sometimes, when I feel awkward, my instinctive reaction is to laugh.  You can see where this is going.  For some reason, our little family standing there singing “Away in a Manger” in the quiet of our living room made me feel awkward.  And I laughed.  Ugh.

                My sweet husband, with no hint of the irritation that I’m sure he felt, responded:  “Well, that’s the last time I will do that.”

                And it was.  Chas never led devotions for our family again.

                As I reflect on that evening, I realize that my reaction to that scene was really just a nervous response.  However, even if unintentionally, in that moment I robbed my husband of his rightful place as the leader of our home.  My presumed disdain (it wasn’t actually disdain…but that’s how he felt) stole his confidence and the respect that he deserved.  And that moment informed what was to be the next 25+ years of our marriage.

                While not exactly an earth-shattering scenario, my response to that scene has characterized much of my life as a wife and mother...and that makes me incredibly sad.  Over the years, I became increasingly independent.  I had my own friends and pursued my personal agenda, rarely consulting my husband except on details that might impact his schedule.  I excluded Chas from the spiritual nurture of our children.  I never asked his opinion about spiritual matters nor did I encourage him in his faith journey.

I’m not exactly sure how this happened.  It’s not as if I set out to take over, to “lead” our family in any way, to be self-sufficient.  It just seemed to work.  Serving in children's ministry, I had training.  Chas did not.  I read all the child-rearing, marriage books.  (Apparently not the right books.) Chas did not. I was the family expert.  The marriage expert.  The spiritual expert.  And he was busy.  So I just sort of took over.  And it worked.  After a fashion, and for a while.

                You already know that our family is flourishing; our marriage is intact.  So this story has a happy ending.  By His marvelous grace, God has gradually and faithfully revealed the effect of my failure that December evening and the intervening years.  Our children are grown now, and interestingly, it has largely been their journey that has informed my faith in this arena.  Their honest questions as they navigate their own relationships, together with the convicting presence of the Holy Spirit, have peeled away layers of my self-promoting and self-preserving womanhood.  What I found, to my dismay, was a desperately wicked heart in need of transformation.  I had an uninformed perspective of feminine godliness and, perhaps more importantly, a basic disconnect between my thinking faith and my practical life.

                My ignorance was not due to lack of training.  My mother raised six children in a home characterized by her own walk with God and her love for my dad.  She was not Mother Teresa, and her marriage to my father was not perfect.  But my mom loved Jesus and her life was a visible demonstration of her commitment to Christ, to the church and to her family.  Mom’s example of godliness was not lost on me; her life was rooted in a strong foundation of Scripture and her confidence in God’s person and work was evident in every season of her life.  When my father went to be with the Lord at the age of 64, my mother’s faith sustained her and helped her to go on to a full and effective life. However, even in the shadow of my mother’s godliness, I did not have much knowledge about what it means to be a godly woman.  While I watched my mother closely over the years, and aspired to be like her in many ways, her godly womanhood somehow missed me completely. 

During different seasons of my life, I have studied passages about godly womanhood:  Proverbs 31, Ephesians 5, 1 Peter 3, 1 Timothy 2 (not my favorite).  If asked, I would have affirmed godly womanhood as a “good goal” for sanctification.  I would have offered a list, or a profile, of what a godly woman should be.  The profile would include (but not be limited to) the following:

Submissive

Respectful

Quiet

Gentle

Some lesser qualities might include serving, hospitable, not-distracted-by-outward-appearance, and not given to gossip.  Even as I read that list now, I smile on the inside because I know that person is so not me.  Who was I kidding?

What I did not know is that these texts, considered without the context of the whole counsel of Scripture and adjunct to my relationship to Christ, led me to isolated applications that were oriented to fixing my “behavior” rather than transforming my heart and mind.  Should I be submissive, respectful, quiet, and gentle?  Clearly.  But 1) I did not realize that my list fell woefully short of God’s plan for womanhood and 2) I did not understand that my strategies to become that woman routinely failed after only a few days (or hours) because they were not connected to my faith.

My uninformed perspective of feminine godliness needed a good dose of Biblical reality laced heavily with grace.  God’s design for gender is much bigger, much more significant, much richer and deeper than a list of things for me to do.  His vision for what it means to be a woman who is His disciple and friend is not just about changing my behavior.  It is about Jesus -- the One who came as a baby in a manger --- changing me.

                More to come on this topic.  Stay tuned…