Longings, Fairy Tales, Romance and The Gospel

I like to be loved, pursued, protected and cared for. A desire I had since a little girl. I remember savoring 'Western' fairy tale movies like Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty. Ah, the classical romance novels for kids, as I like to call them today! And as I aged, this same desire aged with me. If anything, it became stronger, more sophisticated, and polished. It peaked in college. And though I dreaded sitting through the French Literature of the Middle Ages course, my attention was always perking up as we were studying courtly love poems and romance novels (in the classic literature sense of that term). The theme of a courageous and virtuous knight who undertakes adventures to prove to his fair lady that he is worthy of her love is what kept me awake through old French language courses, but also fed my feminine soul.

While the longing of our feminine soul to be loved, pursued, protected and cared for is biblical, our attitude, expectation and thought about romance are often secular.

Our longing to be loved, pursued, protected and cared for is central to our being as women because it affirms our God given femininity. From the very beginning, we were created to respond to initiation. In Piper and Grudem’s words, my role as the man’s helper is the disposition to yield to my husband’s guidance and the inclination to follow his leadership. You see, when God assigned to us women our purpose, He also gave us tools to help us fulfill it! My heart’s desire to be loved, pursued, protected and cared for should aid me in living out through marriage God’s commission. A commission that shouldn’t be taken lightly because it reflects God’s image.

The first woman was made specifically for the first man, a helper, to meet, respond to, surrender to, and complement him. God made her from the man, out of his bone, and then He brought her to the man. When Adam named Eve, he accepted responsibility to “husband” her—to provide for her, to cherish her, to protect her. These two people together represented the image of God—one of them in a special way the initiator, the other the responder. Neither the one nor the other was adequate alone to bear the divine image. (Elisabeth Elliot, The Essence of Femininity: A Personal Perspective)

In other words, God is glorified when His image bearers reflect their roles in relation to each other. There is nothing more comforting to us women than the reality of the Maker having made us to reflect His image. When we respond and receive, we actually give! We give glory to our God by receiving our husband’s leadership. And what God commissioned, he also enables. Our disposition to yield and inclination to follow are enabled by our feminine longing to be loved, pursued, protected and cared for.  

‘Romantic’ is more of a secular word than a biblical one. Born from a 12 th century line of old French love poems, the word captured rules and practices that knights and ladies exchanged while engaged in the act of “romancing” each other. Nowadays, the art of being romanced remains a predominant theme in the secular animated media. Surely, as little girls, we all watched, or heard of the famous Disney princesses. There is something of a “romantic” nature in these secular fairy tale movies, mostly like in the old 12^th century French texts. The modern “romance” wraps together themes of chivalry, adventure, the exotic, the miraculous, the exaggerated, the wholly ideal, the love affair, the unexpected incidents and developments, and, the inevitable happy ending. At the core of such a “romance” rests the one for whom the whole story was created in the first place, the woman! It is romance that the good and most beautiful Cinderella gets to meet her prince at midnight and all works magically in her favor as the prince is ever so determined to find his one and only love; oh, it is romance, too, that Snow White is brought back to life by the virtuously persistent knight on the white horse by his true kiss, and she, too, ends up happily married, a princess in a rich kingdom.

Unlike fairy tale princesses whose identity is in being romanced or pursued by the charming princes, my identity as a woman of God is in the bearing of God’s image. Although we all know that we are not Cinderella or Snow White, I am afraid that too much of the “romantic” that Christian women expect from and of their husbands is masqueraded fairy tale lived in our households. The fact that the husband is prince charming or not is not a Gospel issue, but rather an imposed individual preference, redefined by a series of Western media entertainment and secular literature. Being romanced and being romantic have been ingrained in so many little girls’ minds feeding into the deceiving ideal that marriage without either one is set for failure. Certainly I am not advocating a spiritual boycott of “romance”. It has its place and time in marriage. What I am advocating, however, is the understanding that the feminine longings God gave us are tools to help us submit to our husband so that our marriage should reflect His image. They are not for my primary good, but for God’s. We are not romanced and then we submit. Romance is a fruit of submission, not its seed. I am making idols out of my longings when I deem them as important to my marriage as the call to submit. The reminder that they are tools to help me respond, submit and affirm my husband’s leadership to the glory of God should help me cling to the gospel truth especially when he is anything but “romantic.”

Not only are our longings tools to help us submit for God’s glory, but they also enable us, women, to understand the message of redemption from a different perspective—that of a bride. Throughout the gospel message of redemption, Christ is the groom who pursues his bride, the church, dies for her (Rom. 5:8), redeems her (Eph. 5:25-27), nourishes her (Eph 5:28-30) and will forever protect her from God’s wrath (Rom 5:10).  As women in the position to receive, yield, follow, we are blessed to see and treasure Christ’s sacrifice for the Church! The Church, just like the bride, delights in being pursued, loved, and taken care of. She responds with joy to her Head. She submits with a humble awareness of the price her Husband paid for her eternity. The Church would never look upon her Husband with a sense of deserving expectancy: when are you, Jesus, going to romance me some more? When are you going to be romantic already? The Church delights in the relationship with Christ aware that her longings for her Husband magnify the glory of Christ and His redemption.

Piper once said (OK, more than once) that “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” I would dare to apply his statement to marriage and state that marriage glorifies the Lord the most when the spouses are satisfied in Him the most. Fulfillment of the woman’s longings should come from Christ, on a daily basis. Regardless if my roses are on the table, the vacation planned, the monthly dates on the calendar, the candles lit, the love letters in the mail, my reservoir of fulfillment rests in Christ. Instead of going through the day expecting to be romanced by my husband, I should start expressing to him the way Jesus loved me with a bloody cross. Expressions of daily washing of feet. Big, dirty, stinky feet and small just-as-dirty –and- stinky ones, too. For though Jesus died so I can be saved, his story and message are by no means fairy tale-like. The reality is that by the secular standards, he would make an ugly prince at the time of saving me and I an even uglier princess. Isaiah 53 description of Jesus is anything but attractive, charming and gorgeous like in secular, fairy tale-ish kind of way. Though the God of the universe, perfect in every way, Jesus chose to become 'ugly' by bearing our ugliness so we can be reconciled to God. He was a man with no physical attraction, no beauty to desire Him. He was far from being on the most popular Facebook statuses and twits. No happy tunes on His lips about the love of His life. Wounded and physically bruised. Silent. Punished. Slaughtered. The description of the Church, His bride, is even uglier. Hiding our faces from Him. Despising Him. Judging Him. Ignoring Him. Rebelling against Him. Independent and individualistic. Foolish really. And yet, only God could look beyond His Son’s physical appearance and the bloody cross, and see beauty. But not the romanced beauty of the fairy tales. It is in the “pleasing of the Lord” that beauty has its definition (Isaiah 53: 10). Apart from pleasing God, beauty is vain, idolatrous and devilish.

The longings we have in our hearts are God given tools to help us reflect God’s image by submitting to our husbands. They also gift us with a unique perspective on how the Church is to submit to our Lord. But as with every tool in life, they can quickly become deadly weapons when women feed on fairy tale dreams and expect daily life to be charming dreams, and husbands, princes. The beauty of longings is not in how romantic our spouses can be (or are not), but in how these longings please our God. Romanced or not, flowers or not, dates or not, are our responses beautiful?

The Power Of The Scriptured Mind In Relation To Feminism

The women…had neither adopted nor rejected feminism. Rather, it had seeped into their minds like intravenous saline into the arm of an unconscious patient. They were feminists without knowing it.[i] (Danielle Crittendon)

The word that encapsulates the identity of feminism and that estranges this movement form the gospel is independence. The implications are simple yet dangerous. While most relate feminism with the rejection of men’s authority, few are aware of its even more dangerous quest, that of separation of woman from God’s Word.  Feminism proposes that “women find their happiness and meaning through the pursuit of personal authority, autonomy and freedom.”[ii] In other words, feminism claims that women are better off independent, successful rulers of their own world.

On a quest to find out why feminism seems to have lost its appeal to women under thirty at the end of the 20^th century, writer Danielle Crittendon reaches some staggering conclusions. According to her research, the feminist movement “appears to be in decline only because it has been so thoroughly integrated in our cultural mind-set.”[iii] In other words, feminism as we know it, is so alive and well that it is basically the make-up of an entire culture. In the identity of an American, here lies that of a feminist as well. It has been so well ingrained that leading feminist Judy Rebick admits that “today’s young women are feminists whether they call themselves feminists or not.”[iv]

And this statement alone shakes me up. As a young Christian woman of the 21^st century, I am told that, though unaware, I have been infected with feminism early on. The culture, the academia, the media, and all, fed it to me. This chameleonic parasite, though it is hard to detect, creeps in and lives off of our identities.

Feminism didn’t start, really, in the 1960s. It started in a garden, with the first woman, and the first act of independence. Eve’s first act of feminism wasn’t domineering her husband, (though certainly it is one of them), but rather her shunning away the Word of God. Her choice of doubting God feigned her self-autonomy and authority. When Eve was prompted to choose between eating and not eating, distinguishing between obeying God or Satan, she instituted herself as a god. As Russ Moore also comments, “the serpent walked the woman [Eve] along to where she could see herself as if she were the ultimate judge, free from the scrutiny of her Creator’s holiness.”[v]

Independence among Christian women today is just as dangerous. The same serpent who hissed Eve into self-autonomy is today the lionesque, wild, animalistic figure who is prowling and roaring us into the same temptations of self-idolatry (1 Peter 5:8). We might not be walking around an edenic garden, having a face-to-face conversation with the crawling “beast of the field.” But from our houses, we are walking into fields of deceitfulness, as our minds are being assaulted and prepared to be devoured. The enemy seduced Eve away from God with spoken words, he seduces us with silent, poisonous thoughts. If he showed Eve the fruit, much “appealing to the eye”, he is creating its image in our minds, just as appealing as if we were right there in the garden, alongside Eve (Gen. 3:6).

Separating Christian mothers from God’s Word is, no doubt, on the feminist agenda, fueled by the cunning serpent. In the midst of a franticly busy day, this separation creeps in as I observed myself putting off the reading and the meditating on God’s Word. The mindset in conquering the day hasn’t been “panting for God, thirsting for Him” (Ps. 42:1). Instead, I count my successes by how much I achieve in one day. I like to tell myself that as soon as I feed the kids, get the dishwasher started, clean a bit around the house, throw a load in the laundry machine, then I will sit and read and pray. Most times than not, I never get to sit and read and pray. The day slips away. And by now, I might even get frustrated, upset, sad, defeated, or miserable!

Starting the day without the Word of God may seem insignificant to most women. But, the power of the scriptured mind defeats the anti-gospel ideologies of the present age. For it is in women’s minds that unbiblical thoughts wage war. The everyday battle of the mind is spiritual warfare for women. “But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent’s cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (2 Cor. 11:3). Women, our sincere and pure devotion to Christ is the devil’s first target. And if he can’t succeed through blunt ideologies, he will through cunning ones.

“Spiritual battles are won or lost in the day-to-day thoughts we harbor. Ideas matter[vi]." If by mid-day, I am already defeated and overwhelmed it is mostly because I chose early in the morning to do it on my own, advocating independence from the Word of God. The battles are won when I take captive every thought to the obedience of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 10:4-5). It is only through Christ and His Word that the head of the serpent is crushed, and the roarings of the enemy are but squeals of defeat in the face of the bloody cross.   

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[i] Crittendon, Danielle, qtd. in Mary Kassian, The Feminist Mistake, Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2005, p. 279.  

[ii] Kassian, Mary. The Feminist Mistake, Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2005, p. 7.

[iii] Ibid., p. 280.

[iv] Ibid., p. 280.

[v] Moore, Russell. Tempted and Tried, Wheaton: Crossway, 2011, p. 29.

[vi] Köstenberger, qtd. in McCulley, Carolyn. Radical Womanhood. Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2008, p. 59.

My Weakness—God’s Mercy to Keep Me From Self-Idolatry

I’m not sure how much women struggle with their sense of worth, or self-image. But I do know that, every now and then, I throw some of these “pity-me” parties. One particular morning, I woke up feeling quiet and overwhelmed. Nothing in particular, yet everything mattered. My thoughts started racing in my head, bringing forth past failures and shameful moments. As if my thoughts alone were not trouble enough, they decided to awake my emotions, too, and slowly I was tensing up inside, like a bottle ready to explode. All my failures and mistakes of days and weeks before as a mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter, took a hold of me, and I was left feeling worthless. And I lost it to tears. Then, because you can’t escape your own kids in your own house, they found me. This “show”-ing of myself must have made, again, quite a strong impression on my girls’ little hearts and mind; their eyes were watching me as amazed and speechless as the last times it happened. My husband, who was just about to head to work, joined the party of eyes watching me. He was just as startled as the girls. “What happened?” Have you ever watched yourself cry? I saw myself in my kids’ eyes. They were afraid. I guess because I tend to look uglier when I cry. I was suddenly spitting up short-breathed-phrases, mudded with tears and winnings: "I do not know who I am anymore…I am not good at being a mom. A wife. A friend. A woman... So and so thinks such and such of me!” You get the picture. 

What just happen to me? Surely, no woman finds pleasure in such low moments of self-denigration. When they happen, they leave me embarrassed, discouraged, and defeated. And for the longest time, I didn’t understand the process of how a Christ- loving woman works herself up to such moments, and how the Bible counteracts these reactions in the most practical way.

1. Why should I focus on Christ instead?

The focus of my spiritual eyes directs the path of my life while living in the midst of daily “entanglements” and “sins.” The direction of our lives follows the focus of our eyes. What we gaze at most often directs our living. It either builds us up or it tears us down. For Christians, “fixing our eyes” on Christ is what defines and sustains our daily “race.” Of course, it is not the act of looking, but rather it is the whom our eyes behold that directs us to victory—Christ, the author and the perfector of faith, the One who lovingly chose the cross for the salvation of our sins.

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ²fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 1: 1-4)

The focus of my eyes is a statement of who my god is. “Fixing our eyes on Jesus” is not just another way of gaining victory in the spiritual warfare: it is the only way to victory!  Notice how the verse doesn’t say, “focus on Jesus and oneself”, or on Jesus and something else, it is just Jesus. He is to receive all attention, dedication, and worship. He is uniquely the end of and the means to eternal life. The reality is that when Christ is not the sole focus of our eyes, then something or someone else takes His place. We can’t just not behold anything. We are looking for something or someone to gaze at.

The focus of my eyes is warfare for Christians. Our eyes, while they direct our focus, are far too often too fast for our minds. They tend to go at times way ahead of  thoughts.  They never stay put on one thing too long. If we are to finish the race, we must fight to keep our minds and focus on Jesus Christ. The writer of Hebrew pinpointed this very struggle of growing weary and losing heart in this process of keeping our eyes focused on Christ alone. His advice is to redirect our eyes and minds on Christ’s sacrificial love on Golgotha! “Consider” Christ by re-directing the eyes on Him. Over and over again.

³For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

                       

It is equally important to understand that even as our eyes are predisposed to wonder (James 3:30), sin has an evil advocate who delights in us losing focus on Christ. In “The Screwtape Letters” by C.S.Lewis, Screwtape (the Devil) advices his nephew on how to actually prevent Christians to live God-focused:

Whenever they are attending to the Enemy Himself [God] we are defeated, but there are ways of preventing them from doing so. The simplest is to turn their gaze from Him towards themselves. Keep them watching their own minds and trying to produce feelings there by the action of their own wills…(16).

Focusing on ourselves means not focusing on Christ! And Screwtape makes it sound so “simple” of a means. It is outrageous that this technique though simple, accomplishes so much damage in Christians! How simple it is, indeed, for us to look at ourselves more than to Christ? Can you think of such ways in which you are actually provoked to look at yourself and not at Christ?

2. Whom am I actually watching when I have an adult temper-tantrum?

 Instead of focusing on our Lord and His accomplishments, I lowered my eyes on me. Who I am and what I can do/or don't do became the focus of my mind, heart, and eyes for days. Slowly, my heart, emotions, and thoughts were being deceived into not fighting the good fight with Christ as my focus. I was being baited into lowering my eyes onto myself and not on the promises of the gospel.

With “me” as the center of my gaze, I just enthroned myself my own god. I am more than capable of taking anything good and making it idolatrous. John Calvin says that “every one of us is, even from his mother’s womb, a master craftsman of idols.” I produce idols out of many desires and things, but I am certain that beyond all, I am my worse idol. And though seldom at times, this truth surfaces when I explode in front of my family and friends. In times like these I am made aware of how much more of a lover of myself I am than of God. I am a faithful lover of myself when I build myself up in front of family and friends, but just as equally, when I am disgruntled with my image and how others view me, including how I view myself. I wanted too much of myself and my own image. Author Ken Sande reiterates the gospel truth that though idols can be born from good desires as well as wicked desires, “it is not often what we want that is the problem, but that we want it too much” (The Peacemaker, 104).

I want too much to impress my family and friends, and masquerade the weaknesses and faults I have. When I fail, which I do regularly, my image becomes weaker and weaker.  And the more I fail, the more I seem to want to rise up. And the process distorts my desires (“I want people I love to think good of me”) and makes them idolatrous (“I’m miserable when the people I love do not think very good of me” or” I’m miserable when I am not perfect”). Someone said that “trials do not cause us to be what we have not been; rather, they reveal what we have been all along. The harvest the trial produces is the result of the roots already in our hearts” (Lane &Tripp). My adult temper-tantrum was not an isolated, out of the blue burst of emotions. When it happened, it revealed what was already happening in my heart—the desire to build myself up, while losing sight of Christ!

As counter-cultural as it is, living as a Christian woman nowadays actively involves decreasing in self-value, and being of a lesser importance. What I have been chasing all along—that became evident in my self-opinion and expectations—is anti-scriptural. At the Cross, I come not with my accolades, strengths, and successes in marriage, parenting and friendships, but with weakness. It is the humbling, self-less, Christ-exalting quality of weakness. It is the quality that the world despises and that we, women, tend to want to cover. And yet, in my weakness—the quality I seem to dislike the most in myself, the one that I want to replace with my own version of strength—Christ ‘s power is strongest (2 Corinthians 12:19). Biblical weakness is not lack of strength, sickness or disease. Rather it is the powerful, active, mature process of daily decreasing our self- worth and image by allowing God’s importance to increase instead! “He must become greater and I must become less,” John summarizes it for us (John 3:30).

Therefore, I praise God for the weaknesses He allows in my life. Not only do they constantly redirect my focus on Him, but they are also God’s mercy to prevent me from becoming idolatrous. I join Paul in his declaration of boasting all the more gladly about my weaknesses, “so that Christ's power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

More Christian, Less Romanian, Less American

 The Bible is My New Culture, The Heaven is My Citizenship

“Who am I these days?” a question my husband and friends have heard me ask a lot recently. Because I can’t decide if I am more Romanian than I am American…or if I am at least one or the other! Born and raised in Romania, having spent the last 10 years in America, I’ve been torn between two cultures, neither one I fully seem to embrace today. Some refer to this situation as the “living in between.” I am made in Romania, no doubt! Everything about me was Romanian, from the first steps, to the first words, and the first thoughts. But living in America made me realize that my Romanian-ess had little place in this vast American culture. The different American ways began an inner battle, engaging my whole self against this newness of living. Unconsciously, I began to de-Romanianize as I was focusing to Americanize myself. Some people call this process assimilation. To be successfully integrated into a new culture, the individual relearns new ways of living, acting, speaking, thinking.

And yet, the reality of not belonging to the people group I’m living among draws a clear distinction between them, the locals, and me, the “foreigner”. As enlightening as the articles may be on the process of “living in between” two cultures, and the process of assimilation, one thing is certain for any “foreigner”: the uncertainty of self.  With each new day, I search for ways of trying to relate to one culture or the other, or to reconcile one culture with the other, or to explain one through the other. Like a waltzing dance, I’m rotating inside two cultural borders. Going back home, a couple of year ago, made me acknowledge a restless estrangement to my home. I was as much of a foreigner back home as I am here. In other words, I am no more Romanian than I am American. And yet, I crave to be something. I want to be one of the two. Living in between makes me feel like a bouncing ball.

You would hear me refer to myself as a Romanian Christian even as I am awaiting the American certificate that will declare me an “American citizen” (something I am deeply grateful for). But I still question what it means to be a Romanian or an American. I wonder if a person can be both at the same time, or if by becoming one, an individual un-becomes the other. But none of the above questions are as change provoking as this one: what if I allow my nationality to take too much credit for my identity?

As a Christian, my identity should be in Christ alone. My culture is Christianity. My citizenship is Heaven. My birth certificate is “my second birth” in Christ’s Church. In Psalm 87, God writes the spiritual birth certificate of all the new believers:

⁴ I shall mention Rahab and Babylon among those who know Me;
               Behold, Philistia and Tyre with Ethiopia:
               'This one was born there.'"
           ⁵ But of Zion it shall be said, "This one and that one were born in her";
               And the Most High Himself will establish her.
           ⁶The Lord will count when He registers the peoples,
              "This one was born there."
               

My earthly birth certificate is overridden by the supremacy of my spiritual one. “This one” (me) and “that one” (you) are born into the kingdom of heaven when we turn to Christ. Zion, the Church, becomes the new city that holds our new birth. And the One who records our spiritual birth is Abba God Himself! The Church’s identity is the heavenly citizenship—born of God by faith in Jesus Christ. It is not the eradication of national distinctions but rather a oneness of all distinctive cultures into the body of Christ.

What a practical spiritual genealogy I am given once in Christ! When I accepted Christ as my Savior at age 18, I was born into a new family. God’s Church is not just a Sunday morning, symbolic gathering. It is a real, practical, domestic, hands on household! The Church’s family relations are as real as the aunts and uncles, parents and in-laws, grandma and nephews we celebrate with each Thanksgiving. It is a household created by God, Paul declares. It carries the reality of belongingness. Paul calls the believers “fellow citizens” in God’s Church (Ephesians 2:19).  A fellow describes a member of a group sharing commonalities, or equalities in status, power, and rank. As a family of God, Christians live their lives guided by and submissive to the Word of God. The Bible institutes, affirms, and guides the new way of living. The Bible is the new culture! In other words, the identity of the believer draws from the new culture established by Christ in the family of God.

Not only am I born into a family with a spiritual identity, but my citizenship is also being redefined. I belong to God’s kingdom. “But we are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives” (Philippians 3:20). Our new Christ-like identity focuses on living like citizens of heaven while dwelling temporarily in earthly countries. The more I study the Bible, the more I understand that I do not live for myself and my culture anymore—whatever that culture is! Once a Christian, I am to live for Christ! (Romans 14:7). I am reminded that I, Anca the Romanian (or American), am no longer I who lives, but that Christ lives in me. I am a new citizen—a Christian. I am part of the Christian culture—the Scripture. I am part of a Christian family—the Church; therefore my goal is to learn to live as a Christian within American borders. I wonder how much of our daily lives are shaped by our nationality and not by our citizenship in heaven!

The truth is, as a Christian, the reason why I am struggling and allow myself to live “in between” is because I do not fully understand and embrace the reality of the new citizenship in heaven and adoption into Christ’s family. No matter what my earthly passport and birth certificate say of my earthly status, my citizenship is in heaven for through Christ I was adopted into God’s family and I received a new name –Child of God. As beautiful as the cultures are, the Church’s main pursuit is Christ and His glory. Like a chorus with different voices, the culturally diverse and unified Church sings a Gospel-centered proclamation, to the glory of the Father! Therefore, I will cling to the culture of the Gospel to shape my identity. My pursuit from now on is to learn how to be a Christian who reflects God’s glory!

Wrinkles, Calloused Skin, Varicose Veins, Hair Loss—Aging For The Glory of God!

There is an emotional and mental affair I have been having with a decade-ago-version of my body. I have been spending countless hours, days, months, agonizing over the mental realization that I am aging. There is nothing like the day I realized that the dudette in the mirror is getting old. A closer look at my face, hair, skin, body and I was face to face with the image of my grandmother. Talk about a crisis! Even the bathroom mirror must have felt emotionally sympathetic to my desperate realization. I pulled out pictures from 10 years ago, and I started almost worshiping myself: “Look at that face, hair, skin, body!”  Forget the fact that my husband finds me beautiful and attractive, that I am healthy and able to use my hands, feet, mouth, ears... Me and my aging have been secretly carrying a war, while just as secretly, me and my younger image have been waltzing together, in my mind and heart. The more we two bonded, the more I alienated myself from the current, aging body. I would use every means to “attack” my current image: jokes about aging, remembering the younger days, forgetting the daily dudette in the mirror, grumbling, complaining, complacency in the face of the unchangeable, unthankfulness, and even avoiding the subject. 

One verse that has been putting in perspective my attitude towards my body is 1 Corinthians 6:20: “Therefore, honor God with your body.” What does it mean to glorify God with my body?  Does the fact that this verse is a command change the way I look at the use of my body? How is a Christian woman in the 21^st century to put her aging body to the glory of God?

In today’s day and age the body is either overplayed—in the worldly media—or underplayed sometimes-- in Christian churches. On the one hand, the world makes an idol out of the physical appearance, as it worships digitally and surgically idealized body images. On the other hand, some Christian communities neglect discussing the body at all: some think it is the cause of all sinful desires, always in conflict with the spiritual, new man; others just find it unspiritual talking about the material. 

As a 21^st century woman, I have been cultured to compare and lust after a flawless, idealized Hollywood -ian body. Conscientiously or not, I have been emulating this tension in my attitude towards the body with every complaint about or adoration of it or a body part. Furthermore, as a 21^stChristian woman, to this whole body tug-o- war add the battles of the fleshly desires within the body. What is a Christian woman to do of how to approach the image of her body? Surely one cannot conform her body to the image of the world. Nor can she denigrate and despise her body because of the sinful battles carried within it.  

Biblically, the body is neither to be made an idol of, nor to be belittled or denigrated. While the Gospel doesn’t make an idol out of the body, it certainly expresses its value and beauty. I am bewildered at how God chose and saw it “good” to intimately create the first human body as an earthly home for the human soul. While God purposed the body for His own glory, it was man’s choice to sin with it. Even more, God chose to incarnate His Son into a human body, and have his body killed as a fragrant sacrifice for the propitiation of our sins. It is Christ’s body that we partake. Also, God ordained that the church of Christ would be Christ’s body, orderly functioning as Christ’s earthly hands and feet, mouth, ears, etc. 

So, how is the Gospel addressing the body and its purpose? How can I, a woman of God, glorify God with my body?

1. The purpose of my body—more than just pretty skin and bones

In the light of this contemporary culture, there is nothing more shocking than Paul’s association of the body first to the image of baked dirt and, secondly, to that of a tent in 2 Corinthians chapters 4 and 5. Paul is not downplaying the image of the body but rather he draws attention to what the body carries inside. This frail body (as “clay” and “tent” suggest) is chosen by God to hold His very presence.  “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). In other words, Paul underlines that the body was made for the “precious” content—Jesus Christ—and not the content for the body! Jesus was not made to fill up beautiful, gorgeous, and perfectly manicured bodies! Instead, He comes inside our hearts and bodies in spite of the wrinkles, aging body, veins and hair loss! 

The weakness of my body and all its aspects of aging are divinely orchestrated for my good, Paul suggests. My wrinkles and my hair loss are to keep me from making out of my body an idolatrous god. The clay-ness is what keeps us from stealing God’s glory!

Paul’s words are encouraging and convicting at the same time. I see now that, even though I wouldn’t call myself a thief, I have been steeling God’s glory every time I would complain about how my jar of clay is not perfect and valuable! By allowing my body image to define my identity, by entertaining an emotional and mental affair with it, by letting it be a source of grumbling, unthankfulness and complaining, I was actually worshiping it. I am praising God today because the very presence of wrinkles, veins, aged skin, loss of hair in my body are meant to keep me from self-idolatry. Therefore, they are for my own good!

2. The use of my body—an instrument of righteousness

The beaten and persecuted bodies of Paul and Timothy advanced the gospel of Jesus Christ! In spite of their scars, they were resolved to preach Christ. “We always carry around in our bodies the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal bodies” (2 Corinthians 4:10-11). 

The ministry of Paul and Timothy evolved around Christ, his death and resurrection. When Paul carries in his body the death of Christ, he points over and over again to Christ’s “precious” body that was broken on the cross for our salvation. The very body of our Savior was crushed, tortured, beaten, flogged, and yet the “preciousness” of His body is in His endurance of these persecutions for the salvation of sinners. Christ’s body delivered the gracious redemption to a fallen people. Paul’s body carries the message of such a fulfillment.  Paul’s body carries Christ crucified and alive. His body carries the gospel day in and day out. Paul and Timothy believed that when Christ said “I will be with you to the end of the age”, Christ would never leave their bodies and souls. Their scars are on instruments of righteousness in the service of the living God and the advancement of His kingdom! (Romans 6:13).

Contrary to what some may read into it, Paul is not complaining about his tortured, daily put to death body. On the contrary, Paul is teaching us that our very body is screaming for redemption. While aging is a symptom of the denigrating sin, the body itself awaits its sanctification! He is not bemoaning his dying (aging) body either. In fact, Paul is disciplining himself to glorify God in his present body, no matter how imperfect it may be: “So, weather we are here in this body or away from this body, our goal is to please him” (2 Cor. 5:9).

Even though I do not have a human size statue of my body hidden in the closet to which I bow and whom I worship everyday, my body is still an idol to me. I care too much about how I look and I bitterly complain at and bemoan the silhouette I see in my bathroom mirror. “If only this face would look this and that way…” or “Look at my eyes!!” How easy it is, as women, to fall into the trap of using our bodies as instruments of unrighteousness. Each time we use it for other reasons than to glorify Christ we are giving our bodies an unrighteous use. What do my hands say about Christ? My mouth? My feet? You see, my grumbling and complaining about my body is bad enough. But what is even worse is that they come from an idolatrous heart. My mouth speaks my heart. And rarely do I realize that though my intentions are to preach God, I actually preach myself.

But it doesn’t have to be this way in Christ. Paul sets forth a great example in using his body for the advancement and honor of God’s kingdom—in spite of aches and scars. Personally, instead of being preoccupied (to excess sometimes) about how I look (or do not look), I should start using my body with the same discipline as Paul and Timothy did. I, too, am admonished to give my whole body (young or old) for the advancement of God’s kingdom. I resolve to use my mouth to speak words of truth and peace to the glory of God instead of devaluing and criticizing my body! I will use my feet, with or without veins, to share the good news (“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’" Isaiah 52:7). 

The body I have was given to me to glorify God with it. My aging body can be a walking tool for righteousness if it glorifies God. However, I often make of it an idol when I secretly desire it--the part or the whole--to be conformed to the ideal, cultural beauty. I also worship my body when I complain and grumble, in secret or in public, about how the body's aging chips away at this ideal image. Today, as a Christian woman, I am more aware that my body can preach either the gospel of Christ, or my own gospel. What I say about how I am aging to my children, family, and friends reveals not only where my heart is, but also whom I am preaching. May I allow the Word of God to change my heart, mind, and attitude towards how I view and express my body so I can join Paul, Timothy, and the church in advancing the Kingdom of Heaven to the glory of God!

Cleaning, More Than Just Swiping and Dusting—A Self-Disciplining Ministry to My Home

“Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow” (Ps 51:7)

Have you ever wondered why we clean? Or even better yet, why we need to clean? Cleaning is such a basic and daily chore, performed by our parents, grandparents, and so on. An old, universal habit, passed on to generations of different social statuses, races, religions, cultures without any official training. As women, in the face of cleaning, we tend to take sides: we either love it, or we dread it.

Cleaning. I love cleaning. Cleaning is to me what peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are to kids. It satisfies my sanity. My self and my brain hit a chaotic point without it. It influences my mood, it grows on me, it infiltrates my nervous system. Today, I can state with super confidence, therefore, that cleaning and I are very, very close friends. We have girls-day-out every day!

But me and cleaning were not always friends. You see, when just a youngster in Romania, my mother “forced” me to clean. My mom has always been an intimate friend of cleaning. When I was just a toddler, I had chores to do around our home. And it seemed to me that while I was at war with cleaning, mom was its captain. I always lost the daily battle, and had to swipe the floors, dust, vacuum, shampoo the carpets, wash dishes, clean the oven, etc. (emphasis mine—note the attitude of a victim who loathed cleaning). I despised cleaning. Not only had it conquered my mom, but it also now tried to subdue me! And how I was to resist it!

Now as a grown woman, I have learned to love what my mom forced me to do. I find it relaxing to put my home in order. As a Christian woman, I see that this is not just a quirky personality trait, but there is a connection between cleaning and the Gospel. The Gospel redefined all aspects of my life. It even redeemed my relationship with cleaning by the renewal of my mind and of my attitude.  By understanding its biblical significance, I was able to start delighting in cleaning as an opportunity to display, through daily, mundane acts of it, God’s plan of redemption for all, and declare victory over chaotic and stained places.

The very idea of cleaning is at the center of the gracious love of Christ. Sin stains, the blood of Christ purifies.“ And the blood of Jesus, [God’s] Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). The Gospel message declares war against sin. God instituted for us the gracious redemption to holy, clean, pure hearts through the power of the cleaning blood of Christ. “ But you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” (1 Corinthians 6:11). Cleaning, therefore, is God’s redemptive process on our hearts. Cleaning comes from God and it is graciously poured on us. It is a victorious agent over sin, the profane, the unholy, by the power of God’s Word. God disposes of it as He pleases (Isaiah 1:18). Cleaning is God’s ministry on our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls. I, thus, welcome His cleaning on me.

One of the most significant scriptural and practical moments for me is Jesus washing his disciples’ feet in John 13. Here is the Master of the World, the Savior of humanity, kneeling humbly at the feet of his disciples, washing dirty, smelly feet. His action reiterates the same gracious and redemptive Gospel message throughout the entire Scriptures. The symbolic wash of the feet points over and over again to Jesus’ blood washing away the sins and purifying our souls. But it also creates a practical ministry for Christian women. When Jesus, the Master, becomes like a servant by washing the culturally dirtiest part of the body, He leads the way in showing Christians that cleaning each other’s feet is also the ministry of serving each other. Cleaning, in this instance, bears the practical hand of servanthood. Here is what I practically learned about cleaning from Jesus’ example:

1. Cleaning is the ministry of serving. It serves big feet and small feet. It washes big hands and small hands. It serves family and friends. As a wife and mother, I am striving to serve my husband and my children with the same humble, self-sacrificial attitude as Jesus did to his disciples. By God’s grace, I was placed in a family, and therefore, my home is my primary place of ministry. Day in and day out, through acts of biblical womanhood, I am to Christly reflect Jesus’ washing of the feet.
2. Cleaning has a location, at the core of dayliness, and it expands in all the circle of influence. The location of the washing of feet intrigues me. Jesus cleans these dirty feet in a rural, Middle-Eastern typical home. There, in a room, on a chair, surrounded by typical furniture, with a towel on the waste and a pitch of water in the hand Jesus starts cleaning. In the middle of a typical day, in a casual home, Jesus serves. Serving should happen in our homes as well, overflowing into the ministries God placed us in. Jesus washes feet for the feet needed washing. The need of cleansing is all around us. From hearts to bodies to places. From little mouths, to dirty rooms. Stinky toilets, greasy dishes, spotted clothing, dusty floors, smelly diapers.
3. Cleaning is an intentional discipline. Cleaning feet in Jesus’ times was not an elite job. That’s why not too many disciples were lining up to do it. Actually, no one wanted to do it. Culturally, it was degrading, lowly, dirty. Dust and smells stuck to the skin as the feet trod in the dirty streets of Jerusalem. Cleaning feet was a drag for most disciples just as sometimes cleaning houses can be for us, women. And rightly so. It is dirty, dusty, and stinky. And yet, why would we even expect it to be otherwise? I believe that the mind (our expectations, attitudes, thoughts, etc) has been cultured to think about cleaning as something either lesser, or unnecessary, or an inconvenience. And yet the renewal of the mind and of the attitude is the first sign of the believer’s cooperation with the Spirit through the Word of God. “Instead, let the Spirit renew your thought and attitudes. Put on your new nature, created to be like God—truly righteous and holy” (Ephesians 4:24).
4. Cleaning is more than just dusting, swiping, folding clothes. It carries the seal of redemption of the fallen. Personally, when I clean, I am reminded that God is the author and perfector of faith, the cause of our spiritual cleansing, and the creator of order. When I wash a dirty dish or a dirty piece of clothing, I have a visual of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross: his blood has washed away my sin. This is something I can gather my kids around and share with them the ever so gracious reality that Christ washed me clean. With every swipe, vacuum, dusting, I reiterate an act of cleanliness and declare Christ victory over stale, scarlet, chaotic stains. 

My attitude towards cleaning reflects (or not) the Gospel. Christians, and specifically feminine Godly women, have been given the gracious privilege to clean. Cleaning is more than just a physical action on an environment. It really is a spiritual ministry and discipline that carries significant Gospel symbols and realities. Cleaning is yet another daily and practical tool to share with my daughters the message of the redemptive Gospel of Jesus Christ. By understanding the depth of the discipline of cleaning as a Christian woman can help me draw near the cross and learn to joyfully better minister to my home. Therefore, cleaning and I stayed very, very close friends to the day. 

Valentine's Day Is Everyday

Cards. Flowers. Chocolates. Poems. Love  marketed, left and right. Love highly priced. Some try to buy it. Others try to ignore it. Still others mock it. Some detest it. Others adore it. And here we are, on this day, overwhelmed with and by three tiny but oh –so-powerful words: I Love You.

I Love You. Declarations and statements on posted notes, cards, e-mails and statuses. The same three words fill some people and empty others. These words empower some and weaken others. Love. It comforts some and disgusts others. Some claim that they found it, others hide it.

There is a spectrum of worldviews on what love really means. And yet some are left to still wonder. The throngs of secular poems and songs, works of literature and examples of media could not exhaust its definitions. No consensus has been reached for centuries on this untamed love. There is a clear uncertainty about it. Foreigner’s 1984 secular song “I want to know what love is, I want you to show me” (emphasis mine) is a plea for an answer. I want to know what love is defines the crises of centuries only to get an even more critical answer: you. The singer begs for yet another earthly mortal to author some sort of coherent definition of love. The uncertainty and the relativism of the answer could only throw more coal on the already burning fire of the unknown. It is but a vanity that keeps on perpetuating itself. You. Love. Me.  Until when? How? Why? Maybe cards, flowers, chocolates, songs, poems will explain love. Maybe not. Maybe the smooth way of you romancing me is the definition of love. And maybe not.

This uncertainty is not permitted to Christians for the Bible has already answered it. 1 John 3:16: “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers” (NIV, emphasis mine). Love is the self-sacrificial act of God’s Son for the forgiveness of sins. The singer overlooked John’s answer. To his I want to know what love is John answers this is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. Love starts with Christ, not with you  and me. Love is authored by the blood of Christ on the cross. God is Love (1 John 4:8). Love is blood and grace, selflessness and vinegar, prayers and sweat. It is not a commercialized flower, perfume, candy or card. In other words, John says: Do you want to know on this day what love really means? Look at the bloody cross stained for your salvation.

John wrote what love is for me, first and foremost. As a Christian woman in today’s world, I can’t help but long for chocolates, flowers, cards, me-attention, more than putting others first. I draw an invisible circle around me and proclaim myself the queen of the day. After all, the media, the papers, the radio, and even the stores and coupons tell me I deserve so. And most times, the expectations I have fade into disillusionment and bitterness, complaint or unhappiness.

As Christian women, we live this Valentine’s day not conformed to the uncertainty and the vanity of the secular definition of love, but with a renewed mind, we allow the Gospel to transform our misunderstandings of what love really is (Romans 12:2,9). It is idolatrous to let my husband, or my culture, and not the scripture, define love for me. Christ’s love cannot and should not be replaced by any other definition of love. That is why I choose to cling to Christ love. John’s words are a plea for Christian women to reflect Christ’s love to their husbands, children, and friends. A great opportunity for us, women, to stop expecting and start expressing the love we carry for our husbands. The day, each day, is not about flowers, chocolates, cards he gives me, or not, no matter how beautiful they may be. Today is not even about me. Everyday is about Christ and the church. Because I love Christ and my husband, I will do the laundry, clean the house, build my husband up and love him to pieces!

The dangers of some "Christian" music - How “Better Than a Hallelujah” by Amy Grant is missing the point

“The simple believes everything but the prudent gives thought to his step”

Proverbs 14:15

 “Most of us are touched by the music we hear, even when we are unaware of it […] Over time the lyrics to songs can weaken our defenses, blur our discernment, and redirect our affections toward the world. Listening to music is never neutral. […] Drift won’t happen right away. And you probably won’t even notice it”[1]. These are the words that triggered my train of thought on music in general. In his article, “God, My Heart, and Music,” Kauflin warns Christians of the dangers of listening to worldly music without filtering its words and messages through the Word of God. He encourages Christian listeners to be aware and understand that “listening to music without discernment and godly intent reveals a heart willing to flirt with the world.”[2]

I underwent this task more conscientiously and intently these past weeks as I enjoy listening to all sorts of music genres—Christian and worldly alike. I made the effort of paying a closer and more in-depth attention to the lyrics that have been buzzing through my headphones and car radio. The process led me to single out some songs I used to identify with at some point in my life that turn out not to be very beneficial to my growth in Christ today. I applied the same filtering to the Christian music collection I play. And to my surprise, I discovered what many of you have already known, that the danger of falling away from God is as big among the so-called Christian songs as it is among the secular ones. Even though the danger is subtler, its effects have long-term, spiritual consequences. In the name of post-modern, hip-hop Christianity, some distort what the Bible clearly teaches. And it may be that the intent of such songwriters is not to present half-truths or distorted Gospel teachings.

There are, nevertheless, such half-truths that lurk around our defenses, discernment and affections to distance us from the truth of the Gospel. More aware of how not everything bearing the name “Christian” is Christ-like, I am committed to filter all words through the only true Word. The reality for me is that I am actively and openly flirting with the world each time I let my guard down and fail to discern through the Word of God every song, statement, and teaching catalogued under the name of  “Christian.”  Gullibility, in my case, is not an excuse. Neither is passivity or complacency.

How “Better Than a Hallelujah” by Amy Grant is missing the point

The song is growing in popularity on the American Christian radio stations and charts. It describes painful and rock-bottom scenarios of men and women who are caught on the absolute edge of emotional, physical and spiritual bankruptcy. Each of these men and women react as they know best. Some cry, others are silent. Some sing, others scream. Some plea, others shed tears. Some fight for life, others give it up. It is a song about wars on life. Wars that break down their body, spirit and emotions. The song’s theme brings in God who appreciates such honest reactions from these men and women in the face of their pain and tribulations. Not only does God “love” such reactions, but as the song proceeds to emphasize again and again, he actually prefers them over a “Hallelujah.”

And the song is partially right. Being open and vulnerable before our God in our hardest and most painful moments is more treasured than a fake, lip-sunk, insincere praising of God. The cry for God’s help in the darkest moments is more sincere than a fake smile plastered over a wounded soul. However, the song misses the point of Christian suffering. By separating pain from Hallelujah to God (regardless the circumstance), the very theme of the song is straining away from the sound words of the Scripture. The problem lies in the absence of the Gospel and the “better than” comparison used all throughout the song. The song is therefore, unbiblical.

The message of the song lifts up suffering, pain and death above glorifying God. “Hallelujah”, a Hebrew word meaning praise the Lord, is a joyful expression of gratitude and adoration used mainly in songs of praise or thanksgiving to God[3].“Better than” implies a superiority and an inferiority. There is no equality in the comparison “better than”. At the upper end, there is suffering, pain and death. At the lower end, there is Hallelujah, giving glory to God in difficult moments. The tired, hurt and desperate cry of the mother watching over her sick child, according to the song, is of a more powerful plea and image to God himself than a “Hallelujah” would have been from her wounded heart; the drunkard’s cry, the soldier’s plea for his life in war, a woman holding on to life, a dying man who gives up his life, regrets and shame over past sins and hurtful moments.

According to the song, it is all these devastating moments that monopolizes God’s sole attention and warms his heart. It is hurt above praise, pain above thanksgiving, and death above shouts of life. In addition, Hallelujah is not good enough in such moments. A “sometimes” is added at the end of each comparison verse, creating evasive uncertainty, subjectivity and relativism. How is one supposed to know when God loves a lullaby over praise? Who is to decide when to cry instead of praising God? And how is the individual circumstance better suited for a lullaby reaction as opposed to a Hallelujah?


Praise in Suffering and Joy—A Christian’s calling

This inequality pain-praise painted by the lyrics cannot be more misunderstood, more unbiblical. Giving God glory in joyous and devastating moments alike is not a choice, but rather the Christian’s calling. Not only are we urged by the Apostle Paul to “sing and make music in our heart to the Lord”, but as Christians, we are to “deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him” (Mark 8:34). Christ lives in us and we die to ourselves every day, through every circumstance. And the Apostle Paul knows pain and suffering all too well when his entire life as a Christian is spent under persecution and torture, yet his words, heart, and teachings are songs of praise to God.

There is no doubt that throughout the Bible, from Job to Jesus, pain and God’s praise are united. As a matter of fact, one cannot take praise away from pain. God has made it clear when He announces that  “the one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me” (Psalm 50:23). Who cannot praise God when the barns are filled and the blessings abundant? Isn’t it easy to do? But the true thanksgiving offered in devastating times is the hardest to give—therefore, a “sacrifice” to God. It is a sacrifice because our natural tendency in such moments is to grumble or complain, or to focus on ourselves and the pain. Rather than keeping our eyes and hearts lifted up the Lord, we lower them onto our circumstance. Therefore, the Gospel urges us to fight the natural, sinful self and keep the grateful eyes and focus of the heart on the grace of the glorious God—the salvation of our sins through the death of Jesus. And we do it through thanksgiving in the most difficult times.

How does such thanksgiving look like in a Christian’s life? The Gospel compels us to do everything for God’s glory, including when in suffering. “Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31). God, the creator and the sustainer of life, is above all, the receiver of glory. For everything should glorify him. Our joy and suffering alike are intended for His glory (Romans 11:36).


Suffering, God’s Mercy on People

A common misunderstanding about suffering and Christianity is the separation of the two. And if not corrected, the misconception becomes heresy. Looking to Christ himself, he suffered to the glory of God for the salvation of people. He was crucified and treated like the devil (Mathew 10:23). And we are called to follow him. We follow Christ. And most often, we will suffer because of it. Or for it. Because Christ suffered, we too shall and will. But there is more to the process of suffering than just afflicted pain. As John Piper puts it very well, suffering is God’s mercy[4] on people—mercy to save us from ourselves, from our sinful desires to turn from God.

Suffering is God’s design in this sin-soaked world (Romans 8:20). It portrays sin’s horror for the world to see. It punishes sin’s guilt for those who do not believe in Christ. It breaks sin’s power for those who take up their cross and follow Jesus. And because sin is belittling of the all-satisfying glory of God, the suffering that breaks its power is a severe mercy. (Piper, 62)

We are constantly being shaped by him, not for our temporary comfortable lives on earth, but for the eternal life with God the King.  “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers” (Romans 8:28-29). Being conformed to the likeness of his Son implies suffering, pain, and death to self. In the light of the Scripture and of Christ discipling us, suffering remains evermore a divine appointing in our lives for our own eternal good. The apostle Paul clearly mentions the afflictions of the day as a “preparation” done in us with eternal consequences: “Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:16-17). It refines our hearts.

Suffering: the “who” our treasure is

And every so often, suffering separates the sheep from the goats. As Piper says, “how we handle loss shows who our treasure is.” The way we experience Christ in loss and gain either minimizes him or magnifies him.

Death makes visible where our treasure is. The way we die reveals the worth of Christ in our hearts. Christ is magnified in my death when I am satisfied with him in my dying—when I experience death as gain because I gain him. Or to say it another way: The essence of praising God is prizing Christ. Christ will be praised in my death, if in my death he is prized above life. (Piper, 68)

What is true about Christian death is also true about Christian suffering. If praise is absent in the mist of soaring pain, Christ is being minimized (nullified, in this song) and man is being magnified—man or the situation itself. In either case, it is not God pleasing. The song’s use of pain focuses people on themselves and not on God. In the mists of their suffering, people’s hope is shallow, for their salvation, according to the song, is their own expression of feelings, their own circumstances. There lies the misunderstanding of biblical salvation.

We live in a culture dominated by the impulse of doing what feels right—guided by feelings. The song focuses on expression of feelings: crying, screaming, silence, rejection, pain. Actually, the song’s message evolves around this modern, cultural trend. And do not get me wrong. I am not advocating a stern, impersonal reaction to our problems. Feelings are a beautiful gift from God. And such feelings are appropriate given the circumstances. However, the problem rises when these feelings are vested with a final authority[6] over thinking. We often choose what feels right over what is right. “We let our feelings tell us what’s true, instead of letting the truth transform our feelings.”[7] The message of the song is that all kinds of personal reactions are acceptable to God. And this god endorses them over praise. In other words, even god is man-centered. He denounces his glory for a momentary, feeling-driven reaction from a sinful, broken-heart. “God loves [a reaction]…better than a Hallelujah.”

It is not that God doesn’t care about these people suffering. On the contrary, He cares deeply. It is that what these people need in their suffering is to keep their eyes on God and His glory and to persevere in praising Him. “Rejoice in Lord always. Again I will say rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4). By saying that their suffering is “better than a Hallelujah” is robbing the people of  what they need most and robbing God of His deserved glory in every circumstance.

Instead of focusing on suffering during our most severe distress, unlike the song suggests, the Bible points to the salvation found in Christ. Taking joy in God of our salvation is the cry of the prophet Habakkuk, for instance, in response to the most appalling and dreadful suffering of his life and that of God’s people (Habakkuk 3:18). As someone once said, “Your sufferings are not so great as your sins: Put these two in the balance, and see which weights heaviest.”[8] We should be able to rejoice in our salvation even while in suffering, knowing the worst of what we deserve.

On a daily basis we’re faced with two simple choices. We can either listen to ourselves and our constantly changing feelings about our circumstances, or we can talk to ourselves about the unchanging truth of who God is and what He’s accomplished for us at the cross through His Son Jesus.  (C.J. Mahaney, 38)

Facing the unthinkable with our feelings leaves us hopeless. The only comfort is found at the cross, in Christ alone, the emphatic “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).  But Christ has no place in this song. As a matter of fact, beside the fact that his name has never been mentioned or even alluded to, his sacrifice is defied when sin is masqueraded. The idea of sin comes in the second verse: “beautiful the mess we are” (emphasis mine). It is a beautified sin and a musical misery. Through suffering, according to the song, God overlooks the reality of death-deserving sin. This god of the song is humanized and man-centered while sin or mess is sanctified and beautified. The song manages to create a theme that distances to the point of opposition to the Bible.

Nowhere in the Bible is sin ever made beautiful in suffering, or anywhere. Therefore, the “mess” we live in cannot and will not be “melodies” and “beautiful” in the eyes of the holy God. Suffering does not humanize God, but rather God sanctifies people through his own son’s death on the cross. “The penalty of sin is death” and Christ took it all on Himself. We were under God’s wrath but as Christians, through Jesus’ blood, we are reconciled to God. Wrath and grace met at the cross. Aware of the deadliness of the sin, and the wrath of a holy and just God calls for the realization of the centrality of the cross and of Jesus for the salvation of people. It is Christ, not people, who saves us; it is His sacrifice and love that are “beautiful” and harmonious.

There is a big idolatry and vanity when one is left in complacency and self-absorption. And a god that would not break us from it would do us an unloving favor. Setting our mindsets to the Gospel frame of suffering that works glory to eternity in us will encourage us to praise God for his grace of salvation through his son, Jesus. “We were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead”(2 Corinthians 1:8-9). For the painful and desperate circumstances are not destroying Christians, but rather through them, God is magnified and made “more visibly supreme” (Piper) to the sinful world. Learning to live with Paul’s vision, “as for me to live is Christ and to die is gain” is the Christ-like mindset.

With all this in mind, the just “better than” of the song, apart from the biblical truth, does not teach me why suffering is God’s love on my life. Rather than praising God at all times who sees me beyond temporary trials in eternity with him, the “better than” comparison is dangerous to my life. Left to this song, it teaches that no matter the circumstance, my reaction is loved by God apart from me glorifying His name. This half-truth only distances any Christian from the whole truth of the Bible. The ‘better than” misses the point of a Christian’s sanctification through such painful moments. It makes me the center of the pain, of God, and of the world. My feelings-focused reaction, apart from glorifying Christ even in pain, distances me from a much loving God whose sovereign grace alone will hold me through such pain. And the song is not building in me a Gospel and Christ-centered character, nor does it admonish me to suffer pain to the glory of God. Learning how to discern such songs is beneficial to anyone’s personal walk with God.

Better than a Hallelujah, by Amy Grant

God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The tears of shame for what's been done
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out, singing out[9]

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[1] Kaufflin, Bob. "God, My Heart, and Music.” Wordliness. Resisitng the Seduction of a Fallen World. C.J.Maheney. Illinois: Crossway Books, 2008. 68-89.
[2] Ibid., 71.
[3] Reference.com
[4] Piper, John. Don’t Waste Your Life. Illinois: Desiring God Foundation, 2003. 62.
[5] Ibid., 68.
[6] Mahaney, C.J. Living the Cross Cross Centered Life. Multnomah Publishers, Inc: OR, 2006. 34.
[7] Ibid., 33.
[8] Ibid., 105. (Thomas Watson, quoted by C.J. Mahaney).
[9] www.songlyrics.com

The Gift of Life

To Assurance for Life
A Missional Organization for Life

http://assuranceforlife.org/

What is Assurance for Life?

Assurance for Life is a pregnancy crisis center located in Lexington, Kentucky. Its staff and volunteers see hundreds of clients (estimated to 1,000/year) representing all ethnic backgrounds and religious affiliations.

Why do I volunteer at Assurance?

Like with so many things in life, I didn’t realize how much I was taking life for granted. This life that God gifted to me from the very beginning of my existence. The life that privileges me to know God, to pursue Him and glorify Him. The life that enables me to give thanks for an amazing husband and 2 beautiful daughters. The ritualistic mundane swiped away from me the reality of this gift.

To be honest, through such daily mundane, humanity itself tends to get so self- absorbed that the simplest things of life are devalued and unappreciated even more. Taken for granted. I wouldn’t wake up thanking God for the "simple" fact that I am breathing life. It never occurred to me to look my mother in the eyes and thank her for choosing to give me life.

Graced by God, and blessed by godly pastors and a godly church, Assurance renewed my mind on the reality of life as a gift from God. A gift that is endangered every second of the day. Either by devaluation, or by death. The missional living of the Assurance team enables me to see life as a battlefield. Their Gospel-centered ministry to life and all that it entails allows me to see life as God intends it to be: a gift, sacred, and created for His own glory.

The team of Assurance welcomes and loves on every person who steps through their doors, regardless of social status, race and education. They encourage and reaffirm the love principles of Jesus. Their friendship with Life rejuvenates the souls of women who otherwise might be too alone, and too scared to even live.

What is the best part about working at Assurance?

The best part is seeing the Assurance team look at each woman who comes into their mission field as a precious, walking jewel loved by God. The staff and volunteers get on their hands and knees, and dedicate their very lives to protect, preserve and prosper life. They meet with these beautiful women, pray with them, (some even become believers in these offices); they speak boldly but gently for the unborn. And they continue to minister in the women’s life long after the baby is born. There are programs that assist a woman in her becoming a mother. Furthermore, the unwavering stand for Jesus’ hands and feet reach even the broken souls through Assurance. By reaching out to post-abortive women, Assurance understands that the cross is big and deep enough for all the broken. Jesus’ forgiveness covers damaged souls and restores them to life, eternal life. (www.assurancereknew.com.)

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