Part Two by Hännah Schlaudt

(Read Part One)

Have you ever watched a little girl when she thinks she’s alone? I have four younger sisters and countless little girls I babysit, and I love to stand quietly in the doorways to their rooms, watching. My heart warms to hear the soft humming as they set up a game, the tender care for a doll, the intense concentration as they make a gift for a friend. I smile when I catch them glancing in a mirror with eyes full of either surprise and wonder or disdainful criticism. The soft sigh as they finish reading a fairytale and the glow of hope in their eyes as they dream of their own prince and castle someday. The fierce determination over a wayward piece of knitting or an unruly math problem—intent on completing their project well. The sweet concern for a sick friend or sibling, and the almost motherly delight over a new baby. There are certain instinctive desires in every girl’s heart— to be pretty, to feel loved, and to make others happy by loving and caring for them.

Like so many other girls, when I was small, I dreamed of becoming the sort of lovely woman who was not just beautiful, but also made the world around her beautiful by her spirit and the works of her hands and the love she gave to all.

What is it that makes a woman a woman, and what is it that God has called us women to be as His creation, made to glorify Him? What is the heart of biblical femininity?

Society has many definitions of what it means to be a woman, and many ways to go about discovering oneself. The feminist movement has risen up, demanding to know “Who am I?” Elisabeth Elliot shakes her wise grey head at this, and challenging us to look for the answer in a deeper place. If we look into our shallow, frail souls to find out what we were intended to be, we will only come up with handfuls of dust and no good answers. “In order to learn what it means to be a woman,” says Elliot, “we must start with the One who made her.”(Let Me Be A Woman, pg. 4) The right question, she argues, it not “Who am I?” but rather “Whose am I?” We are not free agents, able to do as we please how we please. “Womanhood is a call. It is a vocation to which we respond under God . . .” (Let Me Be A Woman, pg.53) We don’t define it. God and His Word do, and we are called to humbly submit ourselves to the principles that He lays out for us in His Word.

What we believe about God defines us. If we believe that God’s Word is truth, that God is our Creator and Sovereign, good LORD, then we are required to believe that His plan for what a woman is to be is good, perfect, and complete. We may be fallen, but we are redeemed by the good Savior to glorify Him and fulfill His purposes. As redeemed women, seeking the Lord’s good will in our lives, we are free to delight in His perfect design for us. Biblical femininity is not dull, cumbersome, or bondage-inducing. Biblical femininity is not all fierce independence and the ultimately frustrating go-go-go of climbing the career ladder (and maybe the walls). Biblical femininity is grounded in the confidence of God’s perfect will and sovereignty, His true, steadfast and personal love for His children, and His perfect, good plan for each and every woman—just as she is, a precious, beautiful child of His own, made to bring Him glory.

John Piper draws out the Biblical definitions of femininity and masculinity in his book What’s the Difference? as follows:
“At the heart of mature femininity is a freeing disposition to affirm, receive and nurture strength from worthy men in way appropriate to a woman’s differing relationships.” (pg. 22)

This is a rather dense definition (and is much better expounded upon by Piper himself in his book), but notice with me what is not said. Piper does not say that “mature femininity” means being submissive to the point of being a doormat, or a life restricted to the confines of a home. He also does not say that femininity is defined by independence or a successful career or education. Being a woman of God does not line up with the world’s standards for a successful life, but neither does it mean weakness or a bland life of spineless deference to everyone else. Mature womanhood does not bind us to the kitchen or to a dress suit. It’s freeing and God glorifying.

If mature femininity according to the Bible isn’t legalistic or feminist, then where’s the middle ground? If we’re submitting ourselves to the Word of God, we must seek out what it says this should look like. Genesis tells us that man and woman were made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27), which implies equality before God. They are not the same, but they are equal in value and worth, and equally made bearing His image. Later in Genesis, both man and woman became sinners and were evicted from the Garden, equally under God’s judgment and equally sinners. Both men and women are in the same predicament of bondage to sin, and need Christ and His salvation in exactly the same way. Femininity defined by the Bible is not subservient or degrading, for both men and women are broken, crooked and fallen—sinful creatures deserving the wrath of God.

The Bible lays out complementary roles for men and women that stand firmly against the presuppositions of our feminists today, and line up with reality and nature in a glorious manner. When Adam was made, he was made first, and saw and named the animals on his own. And Adam noticed something, the Genesis tells us. “The man gave names to all livestock and to the birds of the heavens and to every beast of the field. But for Adam there was not found a helper fit for him.” (Genesis 2:20, ESV) The story continues: “Then the LORD God said, ‘It is not good that the man be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.’” Woman was that helper made just for man, and the Lord blessed them and called it very good. Man was ultimately given the leadership of their union and the responsibility for creation. Woman was made to be his helper. When they sinned, Adam, not Eve, was the one God first addressed and called to account for their disobedience. Adam, not Eve was held responsible. Biblical femininity follows this precedent set in Eden—women are made to follow, to submit, to nurture, to affirm and to receive. Men are the leaders, the initiators, the protectors and the providers.

Have you ever watched a couple ballroom dance? His strength compliments her grace. He leads joyfully, because she is following him joyfully. He initiates the dance and takes charge of where they go and what they do, and it’s made beautiful because she follows with ease and gladness. Men and women were designed to work together as in a dance, complimenting each other with joy and equally partners in the dance. There is no competition or anxiousness or demeaning the worth of the other partner, but instead a sweet union of purpose and movement that is glorious to see. God designed us for these roles, and gave us the desires and instincts that nudge us in the direction of His original intent for us as men and women for His glory.

The desires in a woman’s heart find their fulfilling in God’s perfect design for femininity. I want to be beautiful; He tells me that beauty is found in a gentle and quiet spirit (which doesn’t mean spinelessness, but humility melded with love and grace)—a gift from Him that He will give me if I ask for it in faith. I desire to be loved—He demonstrated His fathomless love for me on the cross and has redeemed me and adopted me into His family and will see to it that I have everything I need for life and godliness. I want to love and nurture others, and He has designed women to be mothers and wives and sisters and daughters and friends and called us to live in community with each other to encourage and build each other up in the faith. God has designed us to desire these things, and through His Son’s redeeming work on our behalf, we have access to the joy of seeing these good desires fulfilled in Him.

The trouble with the views on femininity expressed today is that they don’t ask the right question, and because the foundation’s crooked, the whole framework for the answers that are laid forth is faulty. We must first understand who we are in relation to God. All things hold together in Him (Col. 1:17, ESV) and that includes how we define ourselves as women. Once we have right thinking about God and how we related to Him (as His creation, made to glorify Him), then we can go on to correct faulty views of femininity. How biblical femininity looks in the details of everyday life might look different from woman to woman. But there will be uniting principles laid out in the Word of God that define it in such a way that enables us to avoid the pitfalls of crooked views of femininity.

By Hännah Schlaudt

Meg had restlessness deep in her soul, and it peeked out as she sat swinging her legs under her chair and played with the ice cream in her bowl. “I just don’t know. The whole submission and calling to be a wife and mother thing—just doesn’t seem to be enough. I want to do something really useful and satisfying with my life. I want to see the world, to live and to do something worthwhile with myself.” Her clear bright eyes shone as she rambled on about her dreams of living in Europe and being a freelance writer and photographer, free to do as she pleased with her life without the chains of family and husband to confine her. “After all,” she rationalized, “I don’t think I know a guy I could stand to have as a husband.” I ate my ice cream slowly, nodding and listening and pondering on what she said. I had some of the same dreams myself, but I wondered if she was sailing toward them guided by different stars from the ones I knew so well. Her heart and her dreams did not seem wrong in the least by the world’s standards, but compared with the rich ideals laid out in Scripture, they were grasping at wind and empty of much more than selfishness.

Kara was just the opposite of Meg. When I first met her, I was delighted to meet a girl so old-fashioned and feminine. I hoped I’d find a kindred spirit in this sweet girl. However, my heart grew increasingly perplexed by her. Smart and sweet, she ought to have been active in the church and community, using her time to hone her skills as a math tutor and to serve children in the area. Loving children and quite capable of being a dear friend and an encouragement to everyone, I expected her to be married early on. But time crept on and she saw her twenty-fourth birthday come and go, and was still very single, living at home and helping her mom with chores about the house and reading novels in her free time. I sometimes wanted to weep after talking to her. How much of her life has she frittered away as she sought to be the ideal, dutiful daughter and wait patiently for Prince Charming to approach her dad and whisk her away into “real life” and that perfect home of her own?

These girls, and others like them, have driven me on a chase through the woodsy hills and dales of theology, God’s Word, and my own heart and mind. What is the biblical definition of femininity, and which of these girls’ views is the right one? I’d read some on this topic, but certainly not extensively. However, I do believe that God has laid forth in His Word clear principles for what defines biblical femininity that can help us sort through the cultural clutter and sin nature to get at the root of what it means to be a woman, made in the image of God and living to the fullest a live submitted to Him for His glory. Let’s seek out this definition together, shall we? And let’s try to stalk down how God intended for us to apply that definition of biblical femininity to where we are now—as young women just stepping forth into adulthood, blinking in the burst of sunlight that is the realization that we’ve left girlhood behind and the wondering what that might mean in the nitty gritty of everyday living.

First, though, let’s try to lay down our assumptions and presuppositions in the dust at the wayside. There are many definitions of femininity thrown at us today—the highly educated, in-your-face businesswoman who demands perfect equality, the half-naked glamour queen on glossy grocery store magazine racks, the gentle, mousey Victorian lady with lowered eyes, the soccer mom with screaming kids and a to-do list longer than her minivan, the damsel humming to herself in a lonely tower as she waits patiently for her prince to ride up the hill and bring her away to a golden palace with diamond sunbursts. All of these are crooked distortions of what God intended woman to be, and we must forget them as we seek out His original intent for us. He did not mean for a woman to be a spineless, mindless “angel of the house” with little use but to look pretty and encourage morality. Nor did He purpose for His daughters to be domineering and independent creatures that only differ from men in their anatomy. Far from it. He made us to be beautiful and good and to bring glory to Him. But what does that look like?

Take a walk with me through the pages of the Word and the writings of wise saints, and let’s find out.


Hännah Schlaudt is a nineteen year old sophomore at Grove City College, where she is pursuing a double major in English and Christian Thought. She can most often be found seated beneath a tree with a book in hand. While she dislikes hop scotch, she does admit to a penchant for the Lindy Hop, which she does in between games of frisbee. Her writing can also be found at www.forthrightfixation.com.

Beauty & A Book

As we mentioned before, Lindsey and I are excited to take part in Jim Spiegel's blog tour for his recent book, Gum, Geckos and God. Somewhere in between an apologetic for Christian doctrine and a day-in-the-life of a father of four, Gum, Geckos and God centers around theological discussions Mr. Spiegel has shared with his children.

As Mr. Spiegel is a Professor of Philosophy at Taylor University, Lindsey and I were eager to ask him some questions, especially about the nature of beauty (aesthetics.)

In the context of Psalm 139:13-16, as a Christian philosopher, do you believe physical beauty is objective or subjective?

SPIEGEL: I strongly believe in the objectivity of beauty. Furthermore, I would say that the notion that beauty is subjective (that beauty is "in the eye of the beholder") is an indirect result of the deteriorating belief in divine creativity in our culture. To recognize genuine artistry implies belief in the existence of an artist. So when the Cosmic Artist is denied, as is so common in our culture, there necessarily comes with this a loss of the sense of the world as a beautiful work of art.

Biblically, how would you define the nature of beauty?

SPIEGEL: While I don't think Scripture gives us an actual definition of beauty, a sound Christian theology would tell us that beauty (i.e. artistic excellence) must be grounded in the being of God. Just as God is the source of all truth and goodness, he must also be the source of all beauty. In fact, these are basic categories which describe God himself. He IS truth, goodness, and beauty. And all true, good, and beautiful things we experience in this world are merely reflections of their source--God. Scripture confirms this with its many references to God as true, good, and beautiful. With regard to the latter, see such passages as Ps. 27:4 and Ps. 45:11.

Do you think physical beauty has been impacted by the Fall? (i.e. Has humanity lost it's level of physical beauty since the Fall, or is it merely our perception of beauty that has altered as a result of sin?)

SPIEGEL: Yes, the Fall has affected the whole of creation and how it reflects its Creator in the three main categories I just noted: truth, goodness, and beauty. I do believe our ability to perceive beauty has also been compromised (just as has our ability to ascertain truth and goodness), but this is just another aspect of the problem. The Fall into sin, and the consequent curse, has marred all aspects of creation, making it less beautiful and compromising the human aesthetic sensibility.

Many times in the book, your children seemed to begin the theological conversations by asking a question. Are there any specific conversation starter-questions you would recommend asking the child who perhaps isn't so eager to initiate deep discussions?

SPIEGEL: I would recommend starting those conversations in contexts where a child is already interested, such as sports, movies, cartoons, or nature. In Gum, Geckos, and God I share how my kids' thinking about God is impacted by everything from bugs to Star Wars. The more a parent can show her/his child that God is the ultimate source of all such things, the more s/he will be inclined to draw theological connections from them. Also--to bring the question back to your blog's theme--note how a kid's interest in such things is, at bottom, a search and appreciation for beauty. Nature in all its aspects is beautiful. Sports is enjoyable to us, in large part, because of its aesthetic appeal. And, of course, films, cartoons, and other creative art forms have fundamentally to do with beauty. Like all adults, children hunger for the beautiful. We should help them in this quest, assisting them in appreciating beauty in so much of human experience and reminding them that God is the source of all of it.

Doing Things Isn't Enough

“Picture me with my ground teeth stalking joy--fully armed too, as it's a highly dangerous quest.” –Flannery O’Connor

I remember distinctly one night when I was about eight years old. Reading the verse, “Thou shalt not commit false witness against thy neighbor,” it hit me. For the past several millennia, everyone had been reading that verse wrong. “Dad! Guess what I found! The Bible doesn’t actually say we can’t lie. It just says we can’t testify wrongly against our neighbors.” The verse really didn’t apply unless you were in court.

After a conversation with my Dad, my interpretation faced some much-needed adjustments. So I didn’t stumble upon a monumental loophole in the Ten Commandments. Ten years later, I freely admit, lying is wrong because the Bible tells me so.

Unfortunately, my tendency to misunderstand truth didn’t end that day. I’m finding that it’s human nature to twist and pervert truths, either until the truths are softened to a point of becoming meaningless, or until they become rigidly legalistic.



The Pharisees Must’ve Had Dandy Checklists, Too


One such truth that I commonly see distorted is the necessity of doing things for God. “Don’t waste your life” has become a mantra reminding me to stick to my “To-Do” list. It’s true—good things come to those who don’t slack off. Diligence is commendable, and so is service; but clinging desperately to accomplishments to justify our existence is a misunderstanding of service altogether. That is twisting the original meaning of diligence into the idea that our life’s purpose is to complete a checklist of ambitious goals.

To take this even a step further, I propose that we are absolutely guaranteed to waste our lives if we live solely with the goal of accomplishing things. Yep, you read that right. If you learn Chinese before the age of twenty, move to China by age twenty-one, and become a full-time missionary in record time, what of it? Why would that matter at all? If you learn how to cook gourmet dinners with whole foods, graduate from with honors and start your own business, what would you have accomplished?

The accomplishments themselves are empty. They’re useless, and what’s more—they’re a waste of time and energy. That is, unless those actions are propelled forward by something deeper. It is as Sören Kierkegaard wrote, “Father in heaven! What is a man without Thee! ....What is all his striving, could it even encompass a world, but a half-finished work if he does not know Thee: Thee the One, who art one thing and who art all!”

Life isn’t all striving. It’s more a frenzy of joy found in adoring the God we were born to love. Yes, we’re to serve Him, but out of the sheer love of it—not to accomplish a legalistic set of expectations we set for ourselves.

Case in Point

The other day, I felt under the weather. Although I awoke with a mental list of tasks to complete, I was able to only finish the bare minimum. Was my day wasted? On the surface it was; and I was discouraged at the apparent waste of time. But why would God allow me to feel sick if it kept me from doing things that glorify Him? Unless--there is more to glorifying God than bare obedience.

Paul Tripp explained that the Christian life is more than a set of guidelines: "[L]ife in the kingdom is not so much about pursuing a thing; it is about pursuing a person. It is about having the eyes of my heart focused on Christ. It is about a soul filled with appreciation and brimming with affection. It is walking around astounded that he would place his affection on me and even received my flawed love. It is living with the hope that someday we will no longer be separated..."

The most accurate depiction of the Christian life, I think, is not someone who accomplishes great things for God but someone who lives each moment in order to more deeply love Him. Aspiring to serve God is fine and dandy, but should the success of my day be defined by my surface-level "accomplishments?" I don't think so. Only when I realized that God wants more than filled out checklists, but instead hearts that stalk His Presence, did my day begin to make sense.

'I Miss Him'

I read an excerpt from an interview of Charles Templeton, the evangelist turned-agnostic, conducted by Lee Strobel. What was said fascinated me.

And what about Jesus? I wanted to know what Templeton thought of the cornerstone of Christianity. "Do you believe Jesus ever lived?" I asked.

"No question," came the quick reply.

"Did he think he was God?"

He shook his head. "That would have been the last thought that would have entered his mind."

"And his teaching - did you admire what he taught?"

"Well, he wasn't a very good preacher. What he said was too simple. He hadn't thought about it. He hadn't agonized over the biggest question there is to ask."

"Which is . . ."

"Is there a God? How could anyone believe in a God who does, or allows, what goes on in the world?"

"And so how do you assess this Jesus?" It seemed like the next logical question - but I wasn't ready for the response it would evoke.

Templeton's body language softened. It was as if he suddenly felt relaxed and comfortable in talking about an old and dear friend. His voice, which at times had displayed such a sharp and insistent edge, now took on a melancholy and reflective tone. His guard seemingly down, he spoke in an unhurried pace, almost nostalgically, carefully choosing his words as he talked about Jesus.

"He was," Templeton began, "the greatest human being who has ever lived. He was a moral genius. His ethical sense was unique. He was the intrinsically wisest person that I've ever encountered in my life or in my readings. His commitment was total and led to his own death, much to the detriment of the world. What could one say about him except that this was a form of greatness?"

I was taken aback. "You sound like you really care about him," I said.

"Well, yes, he's the most important thing in my life," came his reply. "I . . . I . . . I," he stuttered, searching for the right word, "I know it may sound strange, but I have to say. . . I adore him."

I wasn't sure how to respond. "You say that with some emotion," I said.

"Well, yes. Everything good I know, everything decent I know, everything pure I know, I learned from Jesus. Yes . . . yes. And tough! Just look at Jesus. He castigated people. He was angry. People don't think of him that way, but they don't read the Bible. He had a righteous anger. He cared for the oppressed and exploited. There's no question that he had the highest moral standard, the least duplicity, the greatest compassion, of any human being in history. There have been many other wonderful people, but Jesus is Jesus."

"And so the world would do well to emulate him?"

"Oh, my goodness, yes! I have tried - and try is as far as I can go - to act as I have believed he would act. That doesn't mean I could read his mind, because one of the most fascinating things about him was that he often did the opposite thing you'd expect - "

Abruptly, Templeton cut short his thoughts. There was a pause. He glanced up, he looked across the room, he seemed to want to focus anywhere but on me. He was suddenly self-conscious, almost embarrassed, apparently uncertain whether he should continue.

He sighed. "But, no," he said slowly, "in my view. . . ."

Now there was a catch in his voice; he inhaled deeply to try to stop from crying. But as he turned toward me, I watched as tears flooded his eyes.

"In my view," he struggled to say, "he is the most important human being who has ever existed." His voice cracking, he uttered the words I never expected to hear him say: "And if I may put it this way - I . . . miss . . . him." With that, he broke down sobbing. He turned his head and looked downward, raising his left hand to shield his face from me. His shoulders bobbed; his right hand wiped away tears.

HT: Between Two Worlds

This interview struck a chord with me. There’s no question in my mind—Mr. Templeton had bad theology. He was a self-proclaimed agnostic. He didn’t acknowledge Christ as God’s Son. He thought Christ was a mediocre preacher whose greatness lay in how He went to the death for His beliefs.

But I do wonder: If a journalist were to ask me about Jesus, would my answer have been so heartfelt? I might’ve offered some defense of His deity. I would probably have mentioned His sacrificial death and maybe a brief summary of the Old and New Covenants. I might’ve given the Gospel in a nutshell. But would it have been evident in my tone that I miss Him? That I yearn for His Presence?

I’m not implying that Mr. Templeton was saved or was somehow justified by his 'love' for Jesus. (1 John 5:10-11) I am wondering whether half the Christians I know exhibit a love for God appropriate to the truth we know.

Think about it. This Jesus who Mr. Templeton inexplicably longs for has courted and wooed us—His Church—and paid the ultimate price on our behalf. He still faithfully presides over our lives with tender care. On a personal level, you have no hope for life outside of Jesus. I have no hope without Him. Yet with Him, we have hope beyond measure.

Isn’t that something to sing about? If merely knowing about Jesus, without knowing Him personally, was enough to make Mr. Templeton cry, how much more do we have to adore?

I think the Apostle John's student, Ignatius, had the right perspective: "My dear Jesus, my Savior, is so deeply written in my heart, that I feel confident, that if my heart were to be cut open and chopped to pieces, the name of Jesus would be found written on every piece."

That's more like it.

Related post:
What Makes You Cry? by Irish Calvinist
Randy Alcorn on "The Scream of the Damned" (A letter to C.J. Mahaney and John Piper. See half-way down the page)

Jesus Is Just Alright With Me

"Umm...it's alright."

Those words have the power to drive me nearly insane. To hear them spoken of a cherished book or a beautiful dress is almost unbearable. In Sense and Sensibility, Marianne Dashwood cries out in similar frustration to her mother, “To hear those beautiful lines, which have frequently almost driven me wild, pronounced with such impenetrable calmness—such dreadful indifference!”

She strikes upon something I think we've all felt at some time. When something we love is not treated with the whole-hearted, passionate adoration we believe it deserves, something within us rebels. We're righteously indignant when a praiseworthy object is left unpraised. Adore it or loathe it, but do not simply tolerate it!

And yet, how often do I apply this very same principle to my personal relationship with God? Realistically, it is of no consequence if someone fails to produce what I deem is the "proper response" to one of my earthly affections. What should I care if my friend gives a favorite book only three stars? It’s small beans. On the other hand, my opinion of God is an unbendable issue. He’s the only One worthy of total devotion. But with a nod of acknowledgement, I'm saying, “Umm…God, You’re alright”-- as if He were a choice dessert or hit song. I wade in apathy where I should dance with zeal.

Missionary-martyr Jim Elliot cried to God for passion:

“God, I pray Thee, light these idle sticks of my life and may I burn for Thee. Consume my life, my God, for it is Thine. God, deliver me from the dread asbestos of 'other things.' Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.”

Nothing lukewarm there. Can I really say that my love is such a consuming fervor that nothing else matters? That I attribute to Him the adoration and praise He so greatly deserves? Sam Storms put it well, when he wrote in his book One Thing: Developing a Passion for the Beauty of God,

“Apathy is impossible in the presence of the Son of God. Ineffable beauty compels a response: either passionate devotion or hatred. Middle-of-the-road,straddle-the-fence, you-do-your-thing-and-I’ll-do-mine indifference dies when Jesus draws near. Love Him or despise Him, but abandon the myth that He can be tolerated. Sing for joy or spit in His face. Apathy simply isn’t an option.”

Dwell on those words. Passionate devotion—or hatred. There is no room for a response less than the extreme. Christ wants all of ourselves: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” (Mark 12:30) Not part of the time. Not mildly or insipidly. Just as Christ gave us His everything, our everything is demanded in return. It’s radical, fanatic, obsessive, and unreserved. It’s a love that shouts from rooftops, to the God who is never merely “alright.”

Re-post from 8/11/07

Confessions of a Teenage Hypocrite

This past week brought word of a friend’s fall. The run toward abstinence was too much for her feet to bear alone, but after spurning her God-given authority, her own feet were all she had.

It began in the little things—miniature mutinies only the heart knows. But then her family noticed the difference: a few sharp words, an occasional discontent remark. Sin starts small, but it grows like a pathogen on steroids. Heartbreaking and yet-oh-so-typical for the human race; the fall of this conservative, homeschooled Christian girl is only one of the latest in a long series since the beginning.

“You will not surely die,” the serpent said to Eve, a sweet yet naïve, God-worshiping girl. He offered her a piece of the juicy, luscious--forbidden--fruit. With a hiss of his forked tongue, the serpent sowed suspicion: "For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." (Genesis 3:4-5 NIV) With a little movement, Eve stepped nearer the tree. In a few short moments, she rationalized the situation. What could a little taste hurt? Certainly the end (becoming like God) would justify the means, and if she ended up regretting it, God would surely overlook such a miniscule mistake. Without another thought, she took a tiny bite.

Eve’s decision is the kind I make flippantly each day, yet her fall remains one of the most pivotal actions of all history. Her dirty little secret led to the Holocaust, mass murder in Darfur, the shootings at Virginia Tech and…my quick temper yesterday.

Choices—even seemingly insignificant thoughts concealed deep in the heart--can have a more profound affect than we realize. James wrote that sin starts small as a dormant desire, then grows. “Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.” (James 1:15) My soul, take note: “Insignificant” desires can grow to big sin. Little choices matter.

In spite of this truth, after hearing of my friend’s fall, the serpent’s same old story was repackaged for my consumption: “You will not surely die by merely patting yourself on the back,” the serpent said. “Be proud that you did not choose her path.” Oops. That lie sounds familiar. A white lie here and there, a little curse word when I stub my toe, and just a dab of self-righteousness as icing on the cake; although my stray arrogant thoughts seem small compared to my friend’s fall, they’re of the same significance as biting forbidden fruit. Look at the cost of Eve’s mouthful.

Examining my friend’s situation, the temptation for self-righteousness was replaced by a throbbing sense of shame as the realization hit: I am equally guilty. “All our righteous acts are like filthy rags,” Isaiah said, “….and like the wind our sins sweep us away.” (Isaiah 64:6) Although she may have leaped off the cliff, haven’t I equally flirted with the edge? Although she’s embraced sin, haven’t I given it a sly wink more than once?

There is no compensation I could possibly offer for my crimes. If Eve’s fruit was all it took to bring death into the world, I’m certain my numerous “little sins” are enough to purchase my own execution. Yet the whispering resumes: “You will not surely die,” the serpent said. “Surely you can redeem yourself. Try following Mosaic Law, donating to a charity, volunteering in the community or attending church to assuage your guilt.” But I’ve attempted to connive my way into God’s favor enough to know it’s impossible, and these whispers are yet another lie.

C.S. Lewis painted a telling picture of my own attempts to “earn grace.” In Till We Have Faces, Istra, a beautiful, patient and loving girl, is ordered to be executed. As the best the land has to offer, Istra must die as a human sacrifice on behalf of her people. Her sister, Orual, of course, cannot bear the thought of Istra’s death, and implores the King to intervene. In desperation, Orual pleads: “You are right. It is fit that one should die for the people. Give me…instead of Istra.” The King then grabs poor Orual by the wrist and drags her until they both stand before a massive mirror. There, Orual sees the full extent of her own ugliness. The offering called for “the best in the land,” the King says, “And you’d give her that.”

Now, reality sets in. I’m an Orual. My righteousness (which is actually “filthy rags”) is not a worthy offering for a Holy God. Who am I, to dare to even attempt to settle up my actions with Him? When Job demanded God speak, His voice arose from a storm with words that knocked Job to his knees. Job, humbled and awed, replied, “I am unworthy—how can I reply to You? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer—twice, but I will say no more.” (Job 40:4-5) If Job could barely speak to Him, how do I expect to negotiate my pardon?

As Orual found, the cost for redemption is the death of the Perfect One. My sin stands, along with my friend’s fornication and all other evil acts throughout history as a debt I am powerless to pay. Yet in this sorrow, I find the deepest joy. Jesus’ words ring true, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” (Mark 2:17) It was the sin of the fruit-eaters, fornicators, liars, thieves and hypocrites that gave need for the Cross, and to us broken sinners the Cross was given.

This is the Gospel, that the One we owed paid our debt. At the foot of the Cross I have no excuses to offer. My sins, big and small, have condemned me. I can only echo the words of John Bradford, who, when witnessing a criminal’s execution uttered, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

With my sin in perspective, my friend and I are equally debtors. Any anger at her sin must eventually melt into prayer on her behalf; a request for her to see her own evil and embrace the God whose blood was tangible grace for us.

A re-post from 7/18/07.

"Birth of Freedom"

The Birth of Freedom is ColdWater Media's new production with a fairly self-explanatory title and an intriguing trailer. The preview alone makes me thankful for the freedoms I live with and take for granted every day.

(If ColdWater Media sounds familiar to you, you might've heard of it's Drive Thru History series, a clip of which can be seen below. The ending is especially interesting.)

The Past Few Days...

Friends from The Rebelution host team, The Rebelution forum, and Forthright Fixation.

• The Rebelution conference was a blessing. It was lovely meeting up with old and new friends! We were hoping to have more pictures, but our camera batteries died at an inopportune moment. Really, it seems we're cursed in this area. Lucky we're not photographers!
  

• Following my arrival here, Hannah discovered that I had never eaten real Southern chicken and dumplings. She considered this a tragedy, and set out to remedy the problem.
  
  Here is the incredibly delectable biscuit recipe she uses, which also doubles as a recipe for dumplings.
  
  Ingredients:
  2 cups flour
  2 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
  3/4 teaspoon salt
  1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  2/3 cup oil
  1/3 buttermilk
  1 teaspoon butter (melted)
  
  Combine the dry ingredients. Add oil and buttermilk. Last, but not least, mix in the butter. Roll into doughballs or cut with biscuit cutter and place on ungreased baking sheet. Bake at 450 degrees for 8-10 minutes, or until the outside of biscuits are crispy.
  
  Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot.

• We're also excited to be taking part in an upcoming blog tour for Jim Spiegel's new book, Gum, Geckos and God. (We didn't know what a blog tour was before this either. Basically, we'll be asking Mr. Spiegel a question regarding his book--which discusses the theological conversations he's shared with his children--and he will answer our question here.) Stay tuned!

Well, that's life in Texas right now! I'm staying with Hannah's family until July 30th, so I may start to use words like "ya'll", "fellers", "fixin' to" and "she done done it" in my posts. We're having a wonderful time.