ST: Paper Introduction

I realized my paper would be far too long to post on here all at once. So, here is the introduction, and part of the first section. This is still a rough draft, and I'd love feedback. :)


Introduction

Open theists would like to prove their beliefs on the grounds of the Word of G-d, but they are confronting the very authority of Scripture. Clark Pinnock, et al, present their views in The Openness of God: A Biblical Challenge to the Traditional Understanding of God. Open theism cannot continue to manipulate Scripture to promote its heretical theology without a Biblical response from the confessing church. Bruce Ware addresses the Biblical and theological problems of open theism in two works, Their God is Too Small: Open Theism and the Undermining of Confidence in God, and God’s Lesser Glory: The Diminished God of Open Theism. The open view of G-d claims that G-d’s emotional responses to human actions suggest he is dependent on human choices, and must “wait-and-see” before he can pursue his eternal plans. Open theists often use G-d’s regret over making Saul king (I Sam 15:11, 35) as a primary example that G-d did not know Saul would disobey him. I intend to show that this is categorically false, as it is both a willfully misguided interpretation of “regret” in the passage, and fails to see the story of Saul in the larger context of I Samuel (cf. 8:6-18), and in the organic path of redemptive history foreshadowed by the kingship of David.

What is Open Theism?[1]

Open theism presents itself as the alternative to placing G-d in the confines of a predetermined world. The openness of G-d refers to His open approach to the future, and the view emphasizes divine love. He has designed the world, allowing freewill humans to hold sway in their future, the fate of humanity, and the specifics of G-d’s redemptive plan. It’s important to understand that, under open theism, G-d has purposefully limited his future omniscience to create a give-and-take relationship between Himself and his creation. This granting of freedom allows us to collaborate or frustrate G-d’s will, and He adjusts His plans to fit situations in order to accomplish His goals. This is crucial for understanding the framework of open theism. Open theists protect G-d’s sovereignty by claming that G-d does not control everything that happens because he’s designed the world to operate that way. He waits to respond to human decisions, showing Himself as a loving and kind G-d.

This idea of an ultra-relational G-d is caught on the notion that human freedom and G-d’s control of future events are at odds. How can there be real love between G-d and man if we are just robots, and cannot truly choose to love him? For open theists, human freewill must be defined in the libertarian sense. A choice can only be free if it is truly free; there can be no outside forces influencing the decision-maker – including the self. Only when an action can be changed by the actor up until the moment of the act, is there truly a free choice being made. Apart from the ability to do so, we cannot have freewill.

This understanding of freewill is critical to open theism. If G-d comprehensively knows the future, the future must be fixed. If so, open theism purports, then man cannot really be free to make his own decisions.[2] This becomes a cyclical dependence on libertarian freedom: G-d cannot have foreknowledge of the future to protect our free choices and we must be completely free to vindicate G-d’s lack of future freewill actions.

The open view sees G-d’s emotions displayed in Scripture as exhibiting his openness. Open theists believe that instances where G-d appears to change his mind, get angry, or show regret, indicates he was unaware of the impacts of human interactions and is now responding to freewill human choices. Because G-d waits for us to act, he is sometimes upset by how events unfold. G-d can even be disappointed when choices he makes do not develop the way he anticipated. This emotion – be it disappointment, regret, or sorrow – is often used to support the open view.


A presentation of G-d’s regret from the openness perspective is found in Pinnock, et al, as addressed by Richard Rice. Rice outlines G-d’s intentions as we understand human intentions: desires, goals, objectives.[3] G-d’s plans are just that – plans; he can adapt, respond, change, etc., to human influence. He is not bound by a determined set of events and enjoys interacting with his creation to work out his plans. In the open view, the story of Saul in the Old Testament illustrates this point. G-d hoped Saul would be a good king (I Sam 15:35). He planned for Saul to be a good, faithful king. Saul, however, in his freewill, rejected G-d’s plan, causing G-d to regret making him king.

One common objection to open theism is that it is dangerously close to suggesting that G-d that lies. Rice argues against two passages, often used by opponents of open theism, that say G-d will not lie (Num 23:19 & I Sam 15:29). First, he equates lie with repent. [4] Ware agrees the two terms are related, but goes on to expound that since G-d never lies (2 Tim 2:13, Titus 1:2, Heb 6:18), it is more accurate to understand this as parallelism and not a substitution of terminology.[5] Next, Rice states that by saying G-d will not repent, it implies he can if he so chooses.[6] For Rice, this gets back to how G-d intentionally designed the world. G-d purposefully cannot see future free choices, protecting our libertarian freedom, so that he can engage with us in a genuine, meaningful manner.

It’s important to understand why regret indicates that G-d has no foreknowledge of the future in open theism. Greg Boyd argues, “We must wonder how the Lord could truly experience regret for making Saul king if he was absolutely certain that Saul would act the way he did. Could G-d genuinely confess, “I regret that I made Saul king” if he could in the same breath also proclaim, “I was certain of what Saul would do when I made him king”? I do not see how… Common sense tells us that we can only regret a decision we made if the decision resulted in an outcome other than what we expected or hoped for when the decision was made.”[7] And Boyd’s argument does make sense – if we are to understand this in terms of human feelings and emotions. We certainly make poor decisions, with imperfect information, in a fallen and sinful world. But we are speaking of the G-d of the universe here, and as Ware points out, I Samuel 15:29 plainly states that G-d is not like man.[8]

[1] Ware outlines the tenants of open theism in ten distinct points on p. 67-68 (2003).
[2] Frame, 486
[3] Rice, 26
[4] Rice, 33
[5] Ware, 33 (2003); Ware, 88 (2000). Ware also challenges the open theist use of Hosea 11:8-9.
[6] Rice, 32
[7] Ware, 26 (2003); Ware, 52 (2000)
[8] Ware, 33 (2003)

Internal Debates

I started a post last week about a topic I'd been internally debating. I thought I'd reached a satisfactory conclusion, until I started to type it out. I'll have to re-work the post now, and I'm just too tired to do so at the moment.

Had Islam class this weekend. Sadly, I don't have time to think about it... I worked on the ST paper during class! Our ST paper has to be on some aspect of open theism. I'm doing mine on regret: What does it mean when Scripture says G-d regretted? Specifically, I'm using the account of Saul in I Samuel (15:11, 35), where G-d says He regrets making Saul king. I'll post a draft of my paper when it's presentable. But, I really would like to know what you all (the mass of devout readers that I have) think about the above question.

I'll leave you with some pictures from this afternoon's hike.

(It's hard to see, but there's a nest in the branches)

Missing Mercy

Mercy is a strong word. It's not one I think of as overused, and even its Biblical roots show in Webster's: a blessing that is an act of divine favor or compassion. We all pretty well understand that we sometimes receive pardon we did not deserve. It can be as small as a warning when we warranted a speeding ticket, or the Ultimate Mercy of G-d's pardon for our disobedience to him.

But for me, Mercy is also a sweet, bright little girl, the sister of my best friend. I met Mercy when she was four, and immediately we were connected. I was a senior in high school, on my way to graduation and college. This clearly made me super cool, and far more interesting than her siblings. Eventually, I became part of Mercy's family, spending holidays, college breaks, and weekends home, crashed on her older sisters' floor. But Mercy was the first to adopt me, and always the first to greet me at the door.

"Ryyyyaaaaannnnn!" She'd cry, and wrap her skinny frame around my waist and legs, before I could set down luggage or take off my coat. "I missed you! Where have you been? Why didn't you come home sooner?" No amount of explaining final exams, papers, or other obligations would suffice. She'd beg me puzzle with her, read with her, sit with her, sit by her at dinner, anything with her. And who doesn't want that? She embodied unconditional love to me. No matter how long I'd been gone, what my grades were like that semester, what my heart looked like that semester; I knew that the second I walked through the door, Mercy would be there to greet me, loving just the very fact that I was there.

I wish everyone had a Mercy.

Mercy got sick in January 2004, while her parents' were overseas. She had leukemia, and passed away June 30, 2004. Today is her birthday. Her sister emailed this morning that her gravestone was ready and the family was gathering this afternoon at her grave.

Her family no longer lives in that house. Her sister is happily married, with an apartment of their own. It makes it easier to go back and visit, but every time I ache, wanting her to be there at the door.

I miss Mercy.

Q & A

Below is an email dialogue with my professor, Dr Griffith, about the Gaffin article. Dr Griffith is super cool, by far. His responses are in blue, and I've added some links.

~ ~ ~

Hi Dr. Griffith,

I did have some questions related to the Gaffin article. I'll preface by saying that I'm coming from a Vineyard background, and while I'm sold on Reformed theology now, I'm still trying to reconcile some of those charismatic influences. I would agree, like most, that the role of the apostle was finished with the early Church, as is clear from the very criteria defining an apostle. And, I've always been a little uncomfortable with speaking in tongues. My issue is really with that of prophets/prophecy.

Gaffin uses one verse (Eph. 2:20) to make this link -- that both apostles and prophets are foundational once-for-all finished participants. (a) I'm leery of any argument that is based on one verse, with unclear or ambiguous cross-references (He later uses Matt. 13:11; Rom. 16:25-26; 1 Tim. 3:16...references I really didn't find helpful).

He puts Eph 2:20 in its larger Ephesians context, 2:11-22, where Paul writes about the "house-building" project that is the New Covenant Church. That's a little more than 1 verse, but I'll grant that Gaffin does give a big emphasis to the "foundation" metaphor. At the same time though, it is Paul who includes prophets in the foundation. You have to wrestle with what that inclusion implies. It rests on the character of revelation, the place of apostles as organs of final revelation, and the relation of NT prophets to the apostles. If you want it more carefully argued, Gaffin does that in his book Perspectives on Pentecost.

These cross-references are all used to show that the word "mystery" in the NT always refers to the fulfillment of the plan of redemption. That fulfillment came about by Christ's coming, death and exaltation. Gaffin's point in this context is that the "mysteries" Paul refers to in 1 Cor 14, as the subjects of prophecies, are revelations, or words from God explaining the significance of the redemption accomplished by Christ. As I described that revelation in lecture, it is organic, covenantal, and progressive. The point in Gaffin's context is that these messages in 1 Cor 14 were fully revelational; not "a thought I have from God," but divinely inspired words for the whole church.

(b) I'm also not entirely convinced that prophets and prophetic revelations are the same thing. "Prophets", like apostles, suggests an appointed office, i.e., Tom is the Prophet in our congregation. I don't know that that's necessarily the case; it's unclear to me how prophets were established in the early church. Clearly in the OT, Prophets were appointed by G-d to carry a specific message to a specific people.

I think there is a link between prophecies as events (or as gifts given to men and women) and the office of prophet. How often did a prophet prophesy? That's not easy to say, nor to say how he took the position. There's no indication of "appointment," but I don't think it really matters much. The point is that in the NT church, Paul can refer to "prophets" as a distinguishable group and expect his readers to know whom he's talking about. Not everyone has this gift. Paul is explicit about that. Look at Ephesians 4:11, and 1 Cor 12:29 and 1 Cor 14:29 and 32.

And while I do think that is true -- we are no longer in an era when prophecies occur for the entire church body, I have a difficult time making the leap that individual-specific prophecies cannot occur. This, I admit, is due to my own perception of the prophetic in my life, and therefore could be entirely faulty. But take this example: I dream that X will happen to A. Some length of time later (a few days, weeks, months, years), X does in fact, happen to A. Is that coincidence? Is it revelation? Is it prophetic? I have no idea. All I know is that it happens, and it happens to me more frequently than I'm comfortable with. The point being that it's not entirely impossible for the office of prophet to have ceased, while G-d still chooses to reveal events in a prophetic manner. I'd never claim to be a prophet, but I know that when I sense Y will happen to B, chances are, it will happen. How can I reconcile that with Reformed theology? Are all my premonitions just that, and nothing more?

Again, you state the issues well. The point I would want to make theologically is just what you agree with - we are no longer in an era where prophecies occur for the entire church body - what you have to wrestle with is, that is what prophecy was. It was for the whole church body (there in Corinth or wherever). There was no such thing as "private" prophecy. Why not? Because every spiritual gift was/is given for the common good of the whole church body. [emphasis mine] That is Paul's point in 1 Cor 12:7-11 and 1 Peter 4:10-12.

About your experience of "accurate dreaming," I'd say that is different than prophecy, because it is not a verbal message coming from the Holy Spirit. Is it just premonition? I'd say, not "just," but yes, that is what it is. Some people have a sharper sense of things around them, even things that are going to happen, than others. This is a gift of the Spirit. I'd prefer to call that "wisdom," which I think is the biblical category for it. That distinguishes it from verbally inspired words coming supernaturally from God, as we see in 2 Peter 1:20-21. The distinction is important.

At the same time, your dreams are a gift from God. They are something to be used for his glory. But they don't have the same authority as his Word does (I know you realize this). You should also factor in that sometimes (I expect) your dreams are wrong. My only theological point is that the equation of such with prophecy distorts the nature of NT prophecy. Anyway, that's how I'd start to answer your good questions!

~ ~ ~

Ah, good stuff. Another comment Dr Griffith made in class that I really enjoyed was something along the lines of this:

We cannot accept Reformed theology on the basis of its intellectual appeal. That's an easy pit to fall in, because it is such a sound argument. We must, however, look at what the revelation of Scripture says, and if Reformed thinking does, in fact, match with the Word of G-d, then we can accept it, based solely on the truth of Scripture. But with all things, we must go back and check it against the Word.

Small Signs of Spring

Today was the perfect day for a trip up to Great Falls. And half of the metro area thought so as well. Still got a few great shots, despite the hordes of people.

I loved this odd dip in the river.

The bird (white dot in the middle) took off about 3 seconds after I took this shot.

I caught him right then, but the shot came out blurry.

First buds of Spring.



More buds; better focus.



There were a handful of daffodils in one spot in the park.

Couldn't tell if they were planted or wild.

Didn't see a bird the whole day.

On my way out, this little guy posed for me.

Thoughts on covenant children

Since, this Dilbert aptly describes my work week, I'm making every attempt to use my time wisely, including, but not limited to, studying, perusing online articles (both frivolous and educational), changing car insurance companies, and preparing for small group.

We're in Romans these days, Chapter 9:1-29. Reading versus 6-8, Paul is describing the makeup of Israel : not all natural children are included, and others are adopted in as children of the promise. Tim Keller points to the distinction between physical and spiritual descendents, using the examples of Isaac and Ishmael, and Jacob and Esau. (From Keller’s Romans: A Study Course in the Gospel). This passage suggests a decisive break in the Jewish ethnic-descendent requirements of the OT. But what are the implications for the elect today? More on that in a moment.

Sunday I witnessed my first covenant baptism. I've seen infant baptisms before, but never administered in the Reformed tradition, or enveloped with the understanding of Reformed theology. Like much of my newfound awareness of grace, Sunday's baptism was awesome, in all verity and proper use of the word. The covenant relationship between promise and people, the foreshadowing and connection of circumcision and baptism, and the affirmation of a community that it is by His merciful choosing any of us can stand and call ourselves His, were all present with the sprinkling of water on a crying baby’s head. (And boy, did he cry!)

But now, pairing my experience on Sunday with the passage above, I have questions. I'm sure they are short of profound, and I'm not entirely perplexed; I'm just in the process of fleshing things out, and I'm bringing the two of you who read this blog along for the ride.

Are all children born into covenant families covenant children, i.e., chosen children of the promise? Doesn't this place the emphasis back on parental, physical lineage? I've just barely begun to scratch the surface of articles available online on this subject, but if anyone has authors to point me towards, that would be great.

There are some harsh criticisms for the failure of covenant parents who raise children that do not produce lives of faith. However, what I've found in general is more along the lines of the following excerpts:

"The situation of children who are born of believing parents is a special one. They do not have in themselves that quality of faith which is in the adult believer. Yet it cannot be the case that those who have been sanctified by birth and have been separated from the children of unbelievers, do not have the seed and germ of faith. The promise, accepted by the parents in faith, also includes their children to a thousand generations. . . . If it is objected that not all of them who are born of believing parents are elect, seeing that God did not choose all the children of Abraham and Isaac, we do not lack an answer. Though we do not deny that this is the case, still we say that this hidden judgment must be left to God and that normally, by virtue of the promise, all who have been born of believing parents, or if one of the parents believes, are sanctified." (Beza, Confessio Christianae Fidei , IV, 48).

"We do not ascribe this (the enjoyment of the benefits of the covenant) to birth in the flesh as the principle and true cause, for our children's salvation is only by the election and mercy of God, which often accompanies natural birth. . . This is not out of necessity, for the promise is not generally applicable to the whole seed but only to that seed in which election converges. . . But because we must not curiously investigate the hidden providence and election of God, we assume that the children of believers are holy, as long as in growing up they do not demonstrate themselves to be estranged from Christ. We do not exclude them from the church, but accept them as members, with the hope that they are partakers of the divine election and have the grace and Spirit of Christ, even as they are the seed of saints. On that basis we baptize them. We do not need to respond to those who object and ask whether the minister is deceived, whether perhaps the infant is in truth no child of the promise, of divine election and mercy. Similar diatribes could be adduced with regard to adults, for we do not know whether they come deceptively, whether they truly believe, whether they are children of election or perdition, etc." (Martyr, Loci Communes , IV,
8, 7).

I sense that my introverted brain is taking longer to process things theses days – a sure sign that I need to take more time for purposeful reflection as the intensity of the semester increases. I haven’t forgotten the post I promised on my response to Gaffin’s article. I just got my prof’s response today, and I’ll be mulling over his answers and Scripture references this evening.

Sunshine, trust and restlessness

Spring is finally shedding its light on the dullness of the city. This pleasant and much needed newness does not lighten my overbooked schedule, but it does make for improved spirits and general well-being.

To complement my mood this morning, I donned my spring rain jacket, a light yellow linen fitted trench coat. I love this jacket, even though I can really only wear it about two months out of the year. It's Ann Taylor LOFT, and fits perfectly; very feminine and the yellow contrast with my brown hair is pretty. (At least, I think it is).

I do realize that it is not technically spring for a few more days and yellow is a bit bold, but still, it's not breaking the White Rule for the few of us ladies out there who preserve it. I did not, however, expect quite the positive reaction it drew from my coworkers. My new nickname is Sunshine, and I've been serenaded with:

"You are my Sunshine, My Only Sunshine," "You are the Sunshine of my life" (Stevie Wonder), and "Sunshine Superman" (Donovan).

I could get used to this. :)

~~~

Today I also made an observation, and I'm not sure what, if anything, to make of it. There's a woman in my Cubicleland who I know to be a Christian. She's very pleasant, friendly, and talks openly about her faith, at least in the women's restroom. What I noticed yesterday was her underlying statement of distrust in her coworkers. She carried her purse to the copier. At first I thought maybe she was on her way out and just stopped at the copier, but she did it multiple times during the day. And today, I realized that she takes her purse with her everywhere, every time she leaves her cubicle. I could possibly understand this if a) we didn't work in a secure building, or b) each cubicle didn't have multiple lockable cabinets. Maybe she's had personal belongings stolen before. I do, I admit, put my iPod in a drawer when I walk away. But I don't lock it up. Because I generally trust that my coworkers are not going to raid my desk, looking for things to steal. I'm curious to know what message she's sending. "I'm a Christian and I don't trust people?" I suppose that would be the ultimate conclusion of total depravity.

~~~

Finally, I was reminded of the restlessness of my soul today; that eager yearning that cannot be explained, the longing for “home.” Strolling to work in my fabulous yellow coat, I listened to the lyrics of Caedmon’s Call, Valleys Fill First.

It’s like that long Saturday
Between your death and the rising day
When no one wrote a word
And wondered is this the end

In some sense, I feel this tension everyday. That we are ________, but not yet. The Kingdom has come, but not yet. But Paul writes definitively that we are called, justified, glorified (Rom. 8:29-30). I am, and we are; but we are not, too. We are living in that painfully long Saturday between the first and second coming, and this morning I felt the acute sense of division between the flesh that knows it is not yet fully sanctified, and the spirit that lives justified by grace.

~~~

I’m working on a post in response to this article for ST. Waiting on feedback from the professor.

Things future, nor things that are now,
Not all things below or above,
Can make Him His purpose forego,
Or sever my soul from his love. (Toplady)

Already Behind

Typical to my organized-but-overscheduled life, I’m behind in Systematic Theology. I plan well, I mean well, but life just plain gets in the way. I find some joy and comfort in that; I’ll never have it all mapped out and that’s just the way it ought be. I should preserve a measure of flexibility and perspective to counterbalance my perfectionist nature.

Packer’s Fundamentalism finally arrived, and I immediately skipped ahead (or caught up, depending on point of reference) to an intriguing article, “Why Scientists Must Believe in God” by Vern Poythress. I’m half through; I’ll post more thoughts when I finish.

I did, however, finish the first chapter of the Westminster Confession (WCF), which is not long in and of itself, but I am digesting G. I. Williamson’s study commentary alongside. Chapter One is “Of the Holy Scriptures,” and outlines why, exactly, we should believe that the Scriptures are the infallible, authoritative Word of G-d. In class, we’ve discussed revelation as the principium of theology, the aseity of G-d, and the perspicuity of Scripture. We are just now getting into general revelation and the differences between Barth and the Reformed view of revelation and Scripture. I suppose Barth is easy to use as the anti-Reformed example, even though he had great influence (and still does) on the Reformed church. Our professor’s use of him as dunce prompted him to say, “Now, Barth is not evil, he’s not Satan; he just took some of his ideas too far.” I laughed out loud.

I really only have one observation thus far. I’m slightly disturbed by WCF 1.8:

The Old Testament in Hebrew (which was the native language of the people of God of old), and the New Testament in Greek (which, at the time of the writing of it, was most generally known to the nations), being immediately inspired by God, and, by His singular care and providence, kept pure in all ages, are therefore authentical; so as, in all controversies of religion, the Church is finally to appeal unto them. But, because these original tongues are not known to all the people of God, who have right unto, and interest in the Scriptures, and are commanded, in the fear of God, to read and search them, therefore they are to be translated in to the vulgar language of every nation unto which they come, that, the Word of God dwelling plentifully in all, they may worship Him in an acceptable manner; and, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, may have hope.

So, let’s just add some gold tablets in the sky, eternal and uncreated in Hebrew and Greek and you’ve darn well got a Qur’an. Kind of made my stomach churn. I do, thanks to Williamson, understand what they were getting at here. Just came too close for comfort in my mind.

Premonition

Overall, this weekend will rank fairly high on my list of enjoyable weekends. My Friday morning started with a brief negotiation for a raise (due to increased job responsibilities) that went so ridiculously well, I still find it absurd. As if Fridays were not wonderful enough. This weekend was also the first meeting of the course I’m TA-ing, Introduction to Islamic Studies. So, Friday (7-10pm) and Saturday (9-4pm), I listened to Dr. Sookhdeo give a (very) concise history of Islam. It was refreshing to know that the majority of his lectures were refreshers for me, and that I was able to answer students’ questions without sounding like a moron. This was also the first time I’ve been exposed to a Christian perspective on Islam from a true academic. Dr. Sookhdeo is not apologetic about the inherent problems in Islam, nor does he shy from challenging the Western church to protect our fellow Christians living as persecuted minorities in the Muslim world.

After class on Saturday, I went to see Amazing Grace, an excellent film with a powerful and convicting story.

It is this morning that has me a bit bothered. I’d intended to visit a friend’s church but they canceled services do to inclement weather. It wasn’t really bad out, I thought. My church hadn’t canceled services, and neither had another church I was interested in visiting. The roads didn’t look slick, but by the time I left, a soft, wet snow was beginning to fall. Flurries, I thought. I’m from Chicago, this is nothing. I left early, assuming all the other drivers would be taking their sweet time getting to-and-fro. And the roads really weren’t bad. When I started. By the time I’d almost reached my destination, I’d slowed down considerably, and was driving cautiously.

And then I sensed something. I was coming up on a curve in the road – one I know to be sketchy even in fine weather, when you are not paying attention and take it too fast. This will be difficult, slick, I thought. Slow down as much as possible and do not touch the breaks unless absolutely necessary. And, whatever you do, don’t fishtail. Wouldn’t that suck if I fishtailed and went over the small grassy median? Wouldn’t it?

That’s exactly what happened. I let off the gas, downshifted and began to take the turn. The car in front of me was going too quickly and needed to break, thus I had to follow suit or rear-end him. My back end fishtailed; I tried to turn away from the median but got pulled towards it. Somehow, I managed to check my mirrors for cars behind me (there weren’t). I tried to turn into the turn, hoping to avoid crossing the median and just stop facing the wrong way on the northbound side of the road, and continued to pray for no cars. Thankfully, there were no cars behind me, or on the southbound side of the median, because that’s where I stopped, facing southbound but at an angle. My car had gone up and over the median (curbed, maybe six feet wide, with grass and bushes.) I remember hoping the bushes would stop me and keep me from going into traffic. But there was no traffic, and as I came to a stop, a car coming southbound saw me, stopped and buffered me from other cars. I was safe but still a hazard to other drivers. I realized then that though I’d remembered to push in the clutch, I hadn’t taken the car out of gear and I was stuck. I don’t think the cars coming up behind me realized I’d not been their southbound company a moment earlier and just thought I was stalled. It took a few tries to get my car to start, get in gear and move out of the way, onto the only spot of shoulder along the road. A very, very kind man with his son stopped to make sure I was ok, and offered to follow me where ever I needed to go. (And he did.)

THANK G-D I’m fine. My car is fine, and no one else was hit or skidded because of me. I was able to spend the afternoon with a friend playing computer video games which, while a splendid waste of time, was also a pleasant distraction from an upsetting event.

What has me bothered is the premonition. This type of thing happens to me frequently, only it typically does not actually involve me. I have hunches, intuitions, or dreams; most often dreams. I hesitate to call them prophetic because, well, they don’t feel prophetic, and many of them having nothing to do with G-d. I don’t know what prophetic is supposed to feel like; I just don’t feel like that. But I know when some things will happen and when other things won’t happen. These events are not always good, nor always bad. For the most part, they are usually things I can do nothing about, and so I’m never really sure what to do with this information.

I’ve generally don’t discuss this openly. Recently, I started telling a few friends when something happens involving them that I’ve dreamt about, but no one seemed to respond, so I stopped. Last week, a close friend had a rough day. I’d dreamt about it weeks before, but I don’t always know the outcome of events, so I didn’t say anything. Should I? Does it matter? What is the purpose?

New Series: Systematic Theology (ST)

After fighting G-d for years on this, I'm finally going to seminary. I didn't really see the point... I don't want to be a pastor or even a pastor's wife. But there are degrees besides MDiv's, and at this point, it actually makes sense for me to go. I'll be learning Greek and Hebrew, which will help later on down the road when I prepare to write a doctoral thesis on Jesus in the Qur'an. (That's not the exact focus, but I can't give away all my secrets!)

Anyway, I figured I'd do what all the other seminary students out there taking Systematic Theology do: blog about my classes.

The first selection for reading was J.I. Packer's "Fundamentalism" and the Word of God, forever lost to the U.S. Postal service. (A new copy is on the way.) So, I skipped ahead to the second readings. We are reading John Murray's "The Attestation of Scripture," found in Ned Stonehouse's The Infallible Word. I'm not fond of Murray's style. It irritates me that he uses circular arguments to justify his self-acknowledged circular reasoning. If he'd stated upfront that he was attacking Barth's view of Scripture, it would've done wonders for his thesis, as his point for the first two-thirds of the article is unclear. As it stands, I'm finding G. I. Williamson's study guide on The Westminster Confession of Faith far more concise and persuasive. I still need to finish sections 8-10 of Chapter I, and then I'll post some more thoughts.

Farewell to a Legacy

Today is a sad day for Illinoisans everywhere. The University of Illinois, after decades of controversy and under the pressure of sanctions by the NCAA, officially retired Chief Illiniwek today. While the spoilers call him a racist mascot, and say his appearances at halftimes are exaggerated exploitations of Native American culture, I have always, and will always see the Chief as a respectful tradition, honoring not only the history of the Native Americans in Illinois, but the embodying the spirit of the University itself.

I can't really explain the Chief because he has to be experienced. And now he will be no more. The Chief is the U of I. His history holds the fertile soil of the Morrow Plots, his artistry mirrors the excellence of the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, and his passion is echoed in the strive for academic achievement, supported by the University Library, the largest public library in the world (and the sole reason my undergraduate thesis was any good).

The decision today warranted text messages from fellow alumni, and phone calls to my Dad. For me, the retiring of Chief Illiniwek means a family tradition will die, too. I'm a third generation Illini. I grew up going to football games with my Granddad, one of the fondest memories I have from my childhood, and I distinctly remember the reverence my family taught me towards the Chief. Conversations with my Grandma, instead of just being about the weather or the birds on her porch, are sprinkled with Illini basketball statistics - from her, not me. And my strongest connection with my stepmom's parents came when I went to Illinois. When the dementia set in, Mary's one remaining link to my reality was to sing the Alma Mater over the phone whenever I called home, well after I'd graduated. My parents met at Illinois. I met Jesus at Illinois. I'm not trying to equate fondness towards a symbol to my love for Christ. But those memories are intertwined, because they both belong to Illinois.

Hail to the Orange, Hail to the Blue

Hail Alma Mater, ever so true (so true).

We love no other, so let our motto be,

Victory, Illinois, Varsity.

Grown-Up Snow Days

Grown-up snow days are far superior to my childhood memories. Maybe that says more about my childhood memories than I'd like. That's not to say that sledding, snowball fights, building snow forts, drinking gallons of hot chocolate, etc., were not enjoyable. Good times, they were. But typically, even on snow days, we were at the mercy of whatever parents could get off work to supervise and chauffeur.

Alas today was my first free snow day. Ever. (The one time in college classes were cancelled, the cancelling occurred after I sat through an 8am class in the dark, with no heat.)

I did go to work this morning. Well, we were on a 2-hour delay, so I went at 10am. And no one was there... not my co-workers, my boss, or his boss. So, I packed up a binder with a bunch of reading that needed to get done, and headed to Starbucks to work the rest of the day over a hot cup of tea.

I just happened to make a few stops along the way... and, to justify the warm-fuzzy-but-practical-boots purchase, my feet were soaking wet. Once landed in Starbucks, I made a feigned attempt at working. I pulled the binder out of my backpack. But who wants to work when there is John Murray's "The Attestation of Scripture" to be read?

And now there is banana bread to bake, treadmills to run and LOST to watch.

Oh, did I mention that I found a dozen roses on the sidewalk? Who drops a dozen roses and doesn't notice? They were a little frozen, but they still look lovely as my dining table centerpiece.

Chicago Pics

A few moments from my trip...

New snow, outside V and Dave's window this morning.

Dad, this one's for you. From the Coonley House, donated by the Howlett's, no less!

My favorite painting at the Art Institute.

Doesn't that look like something you'd see in a museum? Oh, right...

Drying Out

This week's been a bit of a ride, and I'm realizing more and more that if I do not guard my time and carve out significant space for prayer, study and reflection, molehills turn into mountains.

Occasionally I have to bear in mind I'm an introvert. I can't go to two parties in one weekend because large groups of people exhaust me. The difficulty is finding a balance between loving my friends and being social and giving myself a migraine. Had I not been set on the IKEA pilgrimage or volunteered to "cook" 60 hot dogs for the Super Bowl, I think I would've been alright.

I digress. The real kicker this week was the flood. I came home Tuesday evening with the intention to work out, read for class and then prep the Bible study for small group the following night.

I came home to find ice on my balcony. That's odd, I thought. Why is there a skating rink on my balcony? I stepped closer for a better look. And then I heard it. Trickling water, the soft sound of rain; only it wasn't raining. It was dripping from my ceiling in my living room, bedroom and roommate's closet. It was sopping my carpet. It was ruining pictures and college diplomas, and a stack of notes for class. It was warping cheap furniture. It was thoroughly freaking out my cats.

After cursing, grabbing a handful of towels, forgetting the towels and resorting to moving things out of the way, I just cried. I cried because I couldn't respond the way I wanted to. I wanted to respond with grace, with appreciation that nothing significant was destroyed that couldn't be replaced, with gratefulness that we were some of the lucky ones who did not lose everything. I wanted to not yell at the apartment landlord when they wouldn't at least rip up the carpeting and padding to prevent mold. I wanted to not breakdown and cry. I wanted to be sweet and pleasant and kind and nice. Instead, I was a wreck. I drank wine and at chocolate to cope. I yelled at a friend. I had a phone conversation with another friend that I barely remember because I was too upset to care about what they were saying. I came into work and sat at my cubicle and cried because I didn't have a Bible study prepped and hadn't prayed in days.

And then I did the only thing I could think to do. I asked for prayer. This was a huge ding in my pride. I have little difficulty asking for prayer for scholarships, jobs, decisions, even pesky habits like a poor attitude at work. But to admit that my reaction to a situation was worse than the situation itself, to be vulnerable with my raw emotions and responses; this was a challenge, a test of where my trust truly lies. Was I going to let go of myself enough for G-d to show himself? Do I really trust that He can change me, even when my circumstances don't change?

I'm thankful to say that He did, and in small ways that not only allowed me to actively participate in adjusting my attitude, but fit my personality such that it was restorative. My boss was gracious enough to send me home yesterday so that I could sort through the mess. It sounds silly to say that I started by cleaning, but those who know me well know that this is therapeutic, and having things in as much order as possible was comforting, as well as practical. I rearranged furniture to make better use of the livable space left. When I was done, instead of succumbing to my desire to take a nap, I finally took time to pray. I took a shower, and prepared the Bible study. I read a book. I felt renewed.

Now I'm dried out, both from my negative attitude and literally (the carpet is dry!). I'm sure I will not always respond the way I'd like to stressful situations. But I'll be better prepared, and have the memory of His care this time around.

Frigid cold, and crusted hearts

It’s 21 degrees here today, but it was 38 below zero in Minnesota yesterday.

Thanks to IKEA, I now have a Big Girl Bed.

Class starts tonight. I’m super excited. Still waiting for the book we need for our first reading assignment…

* * *

Anyway, this is what I’ve been thinking about for the last few weeks, and after meeting with some friends yesterday who are bound for the Middle East, these were my thoughts:

I’m mourning the loss of my heart for the nations.

I’ve always been keenly aware of G-d’s love for all peoples, that He desires all to glorify Him, from every tongue and tribe; perhaps accustomed to that even more than His love for me personally. This Will of His was part of my will for a long time and endured many tests of faith.

And then, I lost it.

In large part, I can attribute this to the period in my life when I turned away from G-d’s purposes and plans, lived foolishly, and did not give heed to what He was doing in my life, or beyond. I knew my heart was hard; I did not see the thickening layer of crust growing on it as well. This muck, this cynicism, crept into my thoughts and actions, and I am only now seeing it for what it is and I detest its very presence.

I’ve become bitter, angry with the countries and policies of unbelieving nations; even irritated with their very culture. They’ve become them. Others. Distant. Foreign. Unseen by eyes unwilling to look and therefore forgotten.

And that is only one coat of the crust.

I’m finding what I’ve missed most is my times of prayer for the world, for the persecuted Church and those that do not yet know Him. These times kept me connected, grounded, and drew me closer to His heart. I’ve let my hatred of worldly systems, injustice, and savage behavior rob me of joining in that fellowship. For that, I am saddened and repentant.

It is flaking off now, for that I’m grateful. It is shedding light on my hidden agendas, my willingness to be open to whatever He asks of me, and a richer understanding that ultimately, He calls me to Him.

To Tears

I’ve rarely experienced moments of intense emotion when reading commentaries but I was brought to tears by this, and I wanted to share it.

I’m prepping a study of Psalm 40, and not owning a commentary of my own; I borrowed Spurgeon’s from my pastor’s library. (Thanks, David. You should comment here sometime :)

Versus 6-10 cross-reference with Hebrews 10:5-9; a connection I would not have made on my own, but Hebrews makes it very clear that Ps. 40:6-10 is speaking directly about Christ:

Sacrifice and offering you did not desire,
but my ears you have pierced;
burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require.

Then I said, "Here I am, I have come— it is written about me in the scroll.

I desire to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart."

I proclaim righteousness in the great assembly;
I do not seal my lips, as you know, O LORD.

I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
I speak of your faithfulness and salvation.
I do not conceal your love and your truth from the great assembly.

Spurgeon exposits verse 7: Then I said, “Here I am, I have come – it is written about me in the scroll,” with the following:

Immanuel did not send but come; he came in his own personality, in all that constituted his essential self he came forth from the ivory palaces to the abodes of misery; he came promptly at the destined hour; he came with sacred alacrity as one freely offering himself. In the eternal decree it is thus recorded. The mystic roll of predestination which providence gradually unfolds, contained within it, to the Saviour’s knowledge, a written covenant, that in the fullness of time the divine I should descend to earth to accomplish a purpose which hecatombs of bullocks and rams could not achieve. What a privilege to find our names written in the book of life, and what an honour, since the name of Jesus heads the page! Our Lord has respect to his ancient covenant engagements, and herein he teaches us to be scrupulously just in keep our word; have we so promised, it is so written in the book of remembrance? {Emphasis Spurgeon's.}

I like that He did not send but come. That He held the promise of the covenant, and that He spoke His promise in the Psalms. That we find Christ in the Psalms makes clear this was His holy plan, this was no afterthought. His redemptive work on the cross is not Plan B. This causes me to pause, reflecting on His wisdom, His purposes, His provision. If He planned this much for himself, how much does He plan for His Bride, His Beloved? This is humbling, to say the least. In fact, my thoughts were such that I could not put into words, and had to fall in tears of joy, thankfulness and praise. He is a good, good G-d.

Small Changes in Habits

I’ve made two small changes this year. Not New Year’s resolutions per se, just attempts to let Christ permeate my daily life, and I’d like to share them with the two or three people who read this blog.

My freshman year of college I was adopted by my Christian family. This is no slam against my Dad (Hi, Dad. Love you!), or any of my biological family, really. This was G-d’s abundant provision of a spiritual family. The Decker’s are the exact opposite of my immediate family. They are numerous, noisy, and Christ-centered, all in positive ways. When I lived with them, I brought the kid-count to seven, never mind the farm of pets scattered about the house. (Although, I guess I was over eighteen…)

In all the hustle and bustle that kids bring, I was always impressed with Decker family dinners; together, at a real dinning table, complete with grace and attempts at organized passing of dishes. This was a stark contrast to family dinners at my house, on the couch watching Bulls games or ER. Decker dinners were intentionally interactive. No TV blaring in the background. And no answered phone calls, unless it was to say, “We’re eating dinner; I’ll call you back later.” I hope I do not paint too rosy a picture; this activity was certainly forced on one or more of the kids at one time or another. But, on the whole, this was communal.

Nowadays, I likely than not eat alone. I’m rushed, shoving food down while I walk to work, or in the car on my way from here to there. I try to cook more, making meals I can take to the office for lunch. I love hosting and having friends over for dinner, but everyone has chaotic schedules and this works out less than it aught. And though I’ve improved the quality of the meal I eat at dinner, I usually eat it in front of my computer, typing emails, reading blogs, etc. I do not rest while I eat. This, my friends, is not natural.

So I’ve stopped. I’m sitting at the dinning table now to eat my oatmeal in the mornings. I still find myself rushing to finish dinner so I can check my email for the 80th time today, but I sit. I sit and be still, even if it’s just 10 minutes. Now, the real test will be to see if I can actually take a lunch break at work and not eat at my desk. Is it communal? Not as much as I’d like it to be. But it is being conscious of how I inhabit my time.

Second, I’ve started to handle my finances on Sunday mornings. This may sound odd; let me explain. For those of you who know me in real life, you know I’m an organizational freak. It may shock you to know that I am terrible at paying my bills on time. Do I know they are due? Maybe. Do I know how much money I have in my checking account right now? I have a rough estimate. I’m embarrassed to admit, I’m also conveniently forgetful about tithing.

To really be obedient to G-d with my, er His, money, I had to make a change in when I was paying my bills. And what better way to beat it into my head that G-d should be the spender of my checking account than to force myself to sit every Sunday morning before church and write out checks (or pay online). I’ve been doing this for about two months now and I’ve noticed three changes. One, I now pay my bills on time. That doesn’t mean I pay them the week I get them; I still space them out based on when I get paid and when they are due. Two, I tithe every week rather than once a month. This forces me to budget better overall, and although I don’t tithe every week specifically to my church, doing it on Sunday morning reminds me to do it. Third, watching where the money goes every week, as opposed to rarely analyzing spending habits, has helped me save a nice chunk of change in two months time, and I’ve significantly decreased my debt, too.

I don’t know if that will be helpful for anyone else. I just wanted to share. And invite you all to dinner. :)

Things I'd Never do Again

Tomorrow, I'm going to do something I never thought I'd do again. I'll participate in an event that still makes me want to gag a little, even though I'm going now of my own volition. I’m attending a women’s conference. Ugh. I say that, and the cheesiness drips from the words, makes me convulse briefly, and I cannot even stand that I’m saying it.

It is events like this, with their sappy titles and the single women all crying about being single and the married women all telling the single women it’s not that wonderful and that you can still be a Super Christian Woman without a Man that make me recoil. Either I identify with it so much that its disconcerting, or I am just repulsed by the idea that whittling down of the life of a Christian woman to a weekend conference will make a difference. Most likely, it is both.

It is the same with Christian self-help books and the majority of Christian radio. I can’t take it. I really don’t think G-d meant us to be so lame.

I used to blame this stuff for my hiatus from the Church. G-d, Jesus, the Word – all that I could stomach. It was real, raw and rough around the edges. But Hallmark Christianity? No thanks, I’ll pass. It wasn’t “me.” I couldn’t live in this fake Christian world; it felt like high school clicks with a dose of religious zeal to pass for acceptable behavior.

And so, I tried to stand alone. I tried to be a Lone Christian in the Fallen World. This is just as miserable, trust me. And I fell, convincing myself to just try harder, damn it! And I fell some more. Until I could not live with the absence of community any longer.

Now the very things I hated about women’s conferences, or women’s groups in general, I need; I crave. I need other single women who are struggling to find their place, fighting to make sense of where we belong when many of us desire to be supportive Christian women to loving, godly men. And I need other women to remind me that I am serving Jesus just as much by teaching, growing, volunteering, and earnestly seeking Him, as I am by testing my cooking skills on guinea-pig friends in the hopes that one day, I’ll have a family to cook and care for. I need conferences led by talented, intelligent, PhD-pursuing female authors with husbands and kids and full, full lives to push me to never settle and never stop.

And maybe, I need to know that I can belong to this Church, when she is petty and annoying me, so that I am also part of her when she is a beautiful outpouring of Christ’s love to the world.


But I’m still holding off on the ridiculous “I have all the answers with my generous orthodoxy” books, and “contemporary Christian” 90’s “music” garbage. That was harsh.

Friday Afternoon Thoughts

• When are we going to remember we are only good at fighting guerrilla wars via proxy? Oh wait, that's morally reprehensible these days.
• Luke lost 2 lbs, Leia lost 1 lb, and I managed to lose weight over the holiday... does this mean I can keep eating cookies?
• I'm not ready to move, even if it is a great job opportunity. I think. Maybe by summer.
• I'm not even sure I'm ready to apply to the PhD program anymore. It feels rushed. I'd like to go to RTS and get another MA so I can study Hebrew and Greek. Would anyone like to fund this endeavor? I promise I'll publish someday, and I'll put your name as the dedication.

Grace in the Gospels

We make the freely given promise of G-d the foundation of faith because upon it faith properly rests... Faith properly begins with the promise, rests in it, and ends in it. (Calvin, Inst. 3.2.29)

Back in September I began a word study of grace in the NT. And, well, it's been 4 months; I should probably start sharing my thoughts.

We think of grace as commonplace in the Bible, but the word grace appears only four times in the gospels, three of those instances coming in the opening chapter of John. Here are my original thoughts on each, as I recorded them months ago.

Luke 2:40: And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom and the grace of G-d was upon him.

Context: Joseph and Mary have returned with a young Jesus to Nazareth. It is strange, a bit foreign, to think of Jesus as a boy; an infant in a manger - yes, but a child - no. I cannot wrap my brain around that simple an image of my savior. And it is stranger still to think of grace upon him, for isn't He Grace? It is love that bid Him to the cross, to bring glory to the Father. But surely it is because He is Grace that He came at all.

John 1:14: The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Thoughts: This is John's description of the deity of Christ, but I am still caught and breathless by the thought that Jesus is grace.

John 1:16&17: From the fullness of His grace we have all received one blessing after another. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

Thoughts: Once again, this shows grace as Christs' essence, acted by and through His love on the cross, to bring us hope, salvation, redemption; complete and absolute glory to the Father.

---

Afterthoughts:

Jesus himself never addresses grace; he need not. It is His very core, not just an attribute of his being, but His essence and purpose, too.

Tangent: John is by far my favorite gospel, and possibly my favorite NT book.