Newsletter #76
On Preparing to Welcome a Child and the Perils of Spiritual Vulnerability
My friend and I brought back our limit of trout from our fishing trip last week. What a blessing (and relief)!
Preparing for Baby #2
This Friday my wife and I are scheduled to enter the hospital to give birth to our second child, a little girl, whose name we’ll share later.
The key word from that sentence isn’t “birth” or even “child.” It’s “scheduled.” Consider the historical oddity of that word in that sentence. Throughout human history, giving birth has been one of the most dangerous and unpredictable experiences. Yet here I speak of it as if it’s just another matter to be planned.
Of course, I mean nothing of the sort.
In modern times, sometimes obstetricians have advised their patients that a c-section is the wisest course of action. As with anything in the arena of babies and family life, this is a contested thing. It is, however, the situation we find ourselves in at this time.
As a matter of gratitude and faith, we feel we must recognize (1) that God designed female bodies—yes, I said it—to bear children, (2) that by and large, most women are capable of enduring this great task without major incident, and (3) for all of the confusion of our modern age, we think it’s preferrable that we’re having a child in 2023 instead of 1023, 1523, or 1923. Regardless of the year, our lives are in God’s hands.
For this reason and more, I’d would be the first to say that we know that applying words like “plans” to family life can be both humorous and risky. However, as best as we can, we’ve been trying for seven or eight months to prepare for this new change.
One change is the experience of going from one child to two. I have a good friend who often says this change is much more significant and life-changing than going from none to one. I’m sure some dispute this, but it makes sense. We’ll find out soon enough.
Another dynamic is having a girl to raise, alongside our son. Gender jokes aside, most people recognize that there are differences.
As an extension of the gender gap, my son now will have a sibling. How will he treat her early on? In a couple of years? As teenagers? As adults? We’ll see.
What will traveling be like? We’ve traveled a lot with our son over the last year and a half. In fact, in his first year, he went to eight states. He was on a plane 10 times. I have a hard time imagining this with two small children.
Some parents reading this are already ahead of me: how will she eat? how will she sleep? Will she have any allergies, birthmarks, or surprising tendencies?
I’ve wondered about all of these, especially the first two. It’s interesting, though not surprising, how little you care about a lot of things if your kids eat and sleep well.
Most important of all, will she choose to follow Christ?
Virtually all these things are outside our control. In recent weeks and months, we’ve focused on what we can control. Is the Nursery set up adequately? Have we organized what we need to organize? What do we still need to buy? Have we properly thanked the many who have kindly given us things?
These latter things matter, yet they have nothing to do with who she is and who she’ll become.
We don’t pick our kids, though I’m well aware of the growing number of medical efforts to “design babies.” (What a grotesque phrase.) Even so, life is God’s business. Forgetting this has led to catastrophe for both Christians and non-Christians alike.
God has a little girl prepared for us. We have a great task before us. For all that can or can’t be planned, our immediate task is to receive her with gratitude, and lean not on our own understanding.
A new adventure awaits!
It Just Comes with the Territory
Recently I’ve been thinking about the promise and perils of spiritual vulnerability.
Communion with God and others is at the heart of authentic spirituality and discipleship. I’ve never loved the metaphor of “connection” (I’ll save the reason for another day), but if by connection people mean “intimacy,” then count me in. As fraught as a word like that can be for those new to the faith, it definitely captures the New Testament’s emphasis on the church as a family.
Many Christians are tempted to emphasize the cognitive or intellectual dimensions of the faith at the expense of the affective or emotional dimensions. Of course, the problem exists in reverse also! But let’s linger on the former for a moment.
I wonder what such persons say about Jesus’s constant presence with his disciples. I wonder what they think of the relational content of the David and Jonathan narrative, Nehemiah 8, the Psalms, 2 Corinthians, Philemon, and a vast amount of the Bible. Heck, how do you appreciate the Triune God if you don’t have a proper esteem for relationality, communion, and intimacy (or connection)?
However, I’m fully aware that merely getting people to acknowledge this crucial aspect to Christianity is only a first step. Even if we manage to get people to lean into life in the body, they quickly encounter a thousand reasons to lean out.
The moment we start to open our homes, lives, and hearts to people, they give us every reason to close them. They judge us—or at least appear to. They criticize. They question. They gossip. Or they simply pull back even as we lean in.
There’s no single explanation for this. Even when we can understand the obstacles to spiritual communion and vulnerability, it doesn’t mean that we’ll easily surmount them (if at all).
I do want to observe a couple of the perils we face in this area, if for no other reason than to remind people that we’re all in the same boat. Before mentioning those, let me set the scene.
You’re in a Sunday School class. It’s a mixed group of adults. Some are new Christians. Some aren’t so new, but they are new to the classroom dynamic. Some are new to the church. Some are socially awkward in the most obvious of ways. Some spent an hour watching the morning news shows before coming in. Some never read the devotional materials designed to prepare for the lesson. The teacher is prone to let side comments and stories go on a little too long.
What could go wrong?
You’re in the small group meeting at a member’s house. You have people who’ve been steeped in legalism since childhood. You have some who’ve just been converted out of alcoholism and sexual sin. The small group leader has a shelf full of DVDs from all genres of film. The lesson is on 2 Corinthians 7, particularly the part about coming out of the world and being separate.
What could go wrong?
The truth is that I could formulate a half dozen other scenarios like these. You have a small group of diverse Christians in the same place, with a Bible or discussion guide, and a generally clear idea of what the meeting is for. Even with a competent teacher, leader or facilitator, there’s just no telling whether people’s attempts at openness will be met with openness, understanding, and wisdom.
The three hazards or perils I notice most often are these:
1 - An excessive amount of vulnerability from a few that leads to discomfort in the presence of others who exhibit no vulnerability.
2 - A tendency to interrogate the insights, challenges, or burdens shared by others, while the interrogators themselves are less willing to contribute.
3 - An unhealthy zeal for sharing so as to just “get things off one’s chest” without allowing Scripture to inform or correct those admissions.
In the first instance, people open up on the implied promise that others will follow suit, even if in their own way. However, when their vulnerability is met with blank stares and coldness they retreat right back into their shells.
In the second, the stonewaller assumes the role of the “corrector-in-chief.” Once someone volunteers a question or doubt, they hastily pile on to answer the question, squelch the doubt, or even to condemn it. There’s no grace, no patience, no willingness to allow the moment to breathe.
In the third scenario, someone unaccustomed to being heard takes the opportunity to share aloud about anything and everything. Think of it as a sort of spiritual “Queen/King for a Day” scenario. Spill your guts and feel better immediately. Don’t trouble yourself with letting the Word enter the discussion and have its say about the matter.
These aren’t the only obstacles to spiritual vulnerability, but they are a few I often encounter. The two best responses I think we can offer are (1) tactful, wise, patient leadership, and (2) mature Christians who try actively to model a better way of sharing and receiving.
Of course, some of the corrections will have to happen one-on-one, not in the larger group setting. But healthy churches are diligent to foster spaces where honesty, humility, and emotional maturity can be cultivated.
Follow Up:
Leading up to last week’s newsletter on Governor George Wallace, I was rather surprised to discover how many people shared my ignorance about the latter developments of his political career, from his attempted assassination to his reversal on racial segregation. Perhaps these anecdotal findings illustrate my point: either we’re all a lot more ignorant or forgetful than we think, or this fascinating (and somewhat inconvenient story) isn’t the type likely to find oxygen in today’s political climate.
Currently Reading:
Rosaria Butterfield, The Gospel Comes with a House Key.
Quote of the Week:
I think professors at top universities face a conceptual problem in that they want to affirm values like “diversity, equity, and inclusion,” but the whole point of top universities is to be elitist, hierarchical, and exclusionary. I’m not 100 percent sure what to tell people in this situation. But if you want to be equitable and inclusive, go teach in a community college or a public high school. If you want to cultivate excellence among a social elite, then own up to that as a mission in life. I don’t think there’s one right thing to do, but it’s deeply confusing to try to do both of them simultaneously.
Matthew Yglesias, “19 Thoughts on Affirmative Action.”
On My Mind:
I’ve recently had an ongoing dialogue with a good friend about the biblical notion of “plundering the Egyptians.” It originally stems from two related passages. First, God’s people were commanded to plunder the Egyptians on their way out of town. Indeed, Exodus 12:35-36 says that the Israelites “had asked the Egyptians for silver and gold jewelry and for clothing. And the Lord had given the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, so that they let them have what they asked. Thus they plundered the Egyptians.”
In other words, God uses the resources of a wicked, pagan enemy to resource His people for their journey and mission ahead.
The question is, “In what sense can Christians today plunder the resources or ideas of the world for their own distinct purposes?” It’s a complicated and often contentious debate. I’ve thought of it a lot through the years but revisited it recently.
One indication of the validity of the question is what Acts 7:22 says about the exodus era, and Moses in particular. It says he “was instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians.” This is not expressed as a negative thing. The verse continues with, “and he was mighty in his words and deeds.”
So then, wisdom can be found outside the Bible. However, what’s the best framework for Christians trying to plunder the Egyptians, while remaining faithful and uncompromised? Specifically, how might our understanding of a concept like “neutrality” be shaped by this discussion?