June 21, 2010 Loving the Law

“Blessed is the man…(whose) delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yield its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.”

From Psalm 1:1-3, NIV

I usually have a book lying around for entertainment purposes. There are favorites from C.S. Lewis or Ferrol Sams, for example, which I've read many times and will never stop returning to. Or I’ll get on one author and strip the local library shelves of two or three of his or her offerings at a time, primarily when I’m in the mood for a good crime story or humor.

I’ll read for research or study as well, gleaning from those more learned than myself or anticipating the lively discussion with a group of people reading the same book simultaneously.

As much as I love books –as often as I have fussed at a child for carelessly leaving a book’s binding in stress, or getting sticky fingers on its sacred pages—as often as I have scolded, “Books are our friends!” I myself am terribly hard on books. Paperbacks generally end up gaining width from hot afternoons, resting against my sweatiness as I sit by the pool…or being splashed in the tub as I read in my favorite spot of all. If the library saw me with their precious and generous volumes suffering the perilous conditions to which I frequently subject them, they would install a guard outside the door and prohibit my entry every two weeks.

Obviously (because it is The Guidebook to end all guidebooks, and I am just one more sojourner in a foreign land) I must continually turn to the Bible for instruction and illumination, no matter how often it has been read or how familiar its passages. The fact is, I don't fully follow its precepts on a day to day, minute to minute basis. There is a great deal I don’t understand, much less follow! therefore, I must continue my studies.

What a privilege this is, what a luxury, compared to the experience so many have had throughout history and in other parts of the world today. To own even complete copy of the Bible, to have it within reach at all times, to say nothing of the fact that most Christian homes own multiple copies, whether underlined and highlighted and much thumbed-through, or sitting on shelves in fancy leather bindings gathering dust.

My library book at the moment is People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks. Based on a true story, it winds through history telling the story of one beautiful book, a haggadah used for Jewish Sabbath worship in the home. A modern-day analyst is asked to unlock the mysteries of various stains and bindings and parchment choices, but Brooks also takes readers back in time, letting us see the particular events and people that have made the book’s survival possible for hundreds of years.

Whereas people underwent great trials to protect the haggadah…and whereas throughout history people have suffered to protect their own holy books…we, I fear, are jaded to the importance of the Bible. We can easily purchase any size, color, weight, print, or translation we desire. Audio or illustrated, hardback or paper, large print for a massive pulpit or tiny print in a pocket version, Bibles for athletes and women and children and Messianic Jews and the military.

The old saying "familiarity breeds contempt" may apply. We have access to the Bible that costs us little or nothing, but do we love the Law?

When a person has a deep emotional need he or she is like a dry, thirsty plant surrounded by arid terrain, withering day after day beneath a merciless sun. Another person…perhaps with good motives, perhaps not…walks by with a watering can and empties it on the tree. Does the tree stop and ask if it should drink in the moisture? Does it ask whether or not death might be preferable to the assistance in that particular watering can? No, the tree responds. Any person passing by, any source of water, and the tree will respond. How can it not?

Rather than tell us how to resist strange water, the psalmist tells us how to avoid the very state of drought. Not only do we not have to respond to the wrong people, the wrong distractions, the wrong thoughts, the wrong supplying of needs, we can….through God’s word….maintain a life of continual "wateredness" so that our leaves never wither.

The person who loves the Law, Psalms 1 says, is like a tree planted by streams of water. Regardless of the outward circumstances, the needs that this person or that can not or will not meet, the stress, the trials... the person who LOVES THE LAW OF GOD is like a tree by a stream. The circumstances, the so-called reality of his life are not different, but HE is different. He is like a plant with a ready, constant source of water. His leaves never wither, regardless of the heat of the sun or the failed irrigation systems around him.

Some of us rarely look at the Law (the first five books of the Bible) outside of Sunday school lessons about Noah, Moses, Abraham and David. There are dry stretches. There is THE law that makes us uncomfortable with its apparent pickiness over things we might, as American Gentiles, find irrelevant. And besides, that was the Old Testament. Jesus brought a new covenant.

ACtually, he said he came to fulfill the Law, not "abolish it" (see Matthew 5:17-18). And it is those five books which, according to Psalms 1, hold the key to our spiritual protection and growth. Our love for tthe Law…or our neglect of it…makes the difference between watered and withered. Drenched or dry. Bearers of fruit or barren of fruit.

Makes you want to curl up with Leviticus, doesn’t it?

Permission to use with acknowledgement of source.

June 7, 2010 The Mirror of God’s Word

“Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act--they will be blessed in their doing (James 1:22-25, NRSV)."

A two-sided mirror hangs mounted on the wall in our well-lit bathroom at home—one side provides a real-size image while the other is magnified. A light around its edges makes it even more user-friendly; even though the reflection is sometimes not what I might wish for…increasing lines, a stubborn red patch on my forehead that refuses to heal, the occasional (and gasp-producing) coarse chin hair…I use it frequently.

Contrast this with the mornings I run in town and try, still hot and sweaty, to muddle through the art of make-up application in the only adequately lit bathroom where I work. While grateful for any light, and any mirror, the result is far more likely to be…uneven.

Recently I was getting dressed at home and noticed that my face, reflected across the room in that mounted mirror, was upside down. I was at the exact distance at which the convex mirror, through mysterious laws of physics I will not attempt to explain (even Googling wasn’t much help) “flipped” the image. I wasn’t standing on the ceiling in reality, but the deceptive image made it seem so.

You’re probably way ahead of me. If James is telling us, in the passage cited above, that we have to look into the word of God and apply it, obviously the further away from the word (the “mirror”) we find ourselves, the more distorted will be our understanding and perception.

Last week I devoured The Shack by William Young, a book I had avoided since its publication in 2007. I’m not sure why I hadn’t read it—maybe the phenomenon that it became put me off. It seemed everywhere I turned someone would ask me if I’d read it yet, implying that (1) “you should” and (2) “what in the world is taking you so long?”

And…I loved it. One of the things I loved about it was that although it breaks out of the box of traditional thinking about God, it never broke out of biblical thinking. It also didn’t get bogged down trying to defend itself; it simply wove a story of love and relationship and pain and intimacy that made me wonder, more than a few times, if it really was fiction after all.

It’s important when we read, or watch television or movies, or listen to music, that we enjoy and or/critique the messages promoted with the mirror of God’s word in mind. Obviously we need a “working knowledge” of God’s word in order to function in the world as Christ-followers. And the further away we stray from it or the longer the dry spells in which we find ourselves neglecting its truth or the more frequently we find those dry spells occurring, you can be certain –as night follows day—that our ability to discern will lose its sharpness. If we get far enough away, perception can even turn upside down and become actual deception.


Permission to use with acknowledgement of source.

ellenofgillette1@aol.com

May 24, 2010 Airing out the Dirty Linen

“We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity. Yet, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand (Isaiah 64:6-8 New Revised Standard Version).”

The passage is quoted often, many times in conjunction with a teaching about the necessity of salvation by grace, rather than works. Even our righteous acts, the very best deeds we have to offer God, in comparison with his holiness, are “like a filthy cloth.”

Once when I was a little girl, my family was visiting the couple in the apartment a few doors down from us. While the adults played cards at the table, I entertained myself by drawing. I’d seen several variations of a magazine ad that impressed me—beautiful women in expensive gowns, elegant above a particular phrase that, at about six or seven, held no meaning for me. When I sketched my own rendition, getting the lady’s hair and makeup just so, I printed the phrase at the bottom and handed it to my mother, expecting praise. Instead, she burst out laughing and handed it to her friend, who also laughed. Under the drawing of an elegant woman, I had carefully written “Modess…because.” Modess was, of course, a manufacturer of feminine hygiene products- I was completely clueless.

Scholars point out that the phrase “filthy cloth” is from the Hebrew meaning soiled menstrual cloths—a word picture some might find offensive or shocking. Even today, when "female" products are routinely displayed on television with much less subtlety than in those old Modess ads, there are those who regard such discussion as unfit for “polite” company.

Certainly there are plenty of other words he could have used for filth—from rusty to excremental. There’s even a specific word for “morally corrupt” which is what most people think when they read the passage. What was he thinking?!

Get over it. Isaiah used the phrase he wanted, for good reasons.

The concept of being unclean comes from the Law of Moses. A Jewish woman was ceremonially unclean during her monthly period (or if she had an issue of blood at other times). She was not to be touched, and anyone touching her would also be unclean. Her bed was unclean, wherever she sat was unclean. Many of the laws were, in effect, a health code, similar to rules we see posted today (e.g. “employees must wash hands with hot water”).

The children of Israel lived in the wilderness, away from large quantities of running water. Precautions were taken so that disease did not spread. (Keeping a woman isolated from contact until after days after her period was over was also a strategic method for maintaining a growing population.) Just as not every skin spot was leprous but each was treated as being so, so as to prevent the spread of leprosy, every monthly period was treated as a potential germ threat.

From one perspective, Isaiah was saying that all of the good things we do apart from God, in our own strength, are potential disease-carriers. Self-righteousness can spread quickly, with devastation in its wake, among the people of God. When we get the idea that we are responsible for good results, blessings, answers to prayer, ministry, etc. trouble is sure to make an appearance, because God actively opposes the proud in heart (James 4:6). It isn’t enough to know this and try to keep self-righteousness to a minimum; Isaiah wants us to consider it all “unclean” so as to avoid potential problems.

Recently, though, I was reading an author’s take on this passage, and another thought struck me. The writer, a man, said that he couldn’t think of anything more disgusting than Isaiah’s word picture. As a woman, who has dealt with God’s design for women on an up close and personal basis for many, many years, I disagree. How can something that God designed be disgusting? I personally would have likened our good works to a diaper full of diarrhea (pee-ew) or towels that have wiped up vomit (gag), but I understand that many folks (at least the men folks) would catch Isaiah’s drift from his analogy.

Being disgusted at the author’s disgust, however, started me thinking in another direction. What else does a monthly flow of blood signify? In the culture of Isaiah, women were regarded more lowly when they were barren. Every month, they hoped that the flow would not come—not because they wanted to avoid PMS jokes—but because it meant they were pregnant. For the woman who had prayed for years, each month’s period must have been incredibly disheartening and discouraging, proof of her fruitlessness once more.

Think about good deeds. Obviously people—even those who are far from God and have ulterior motives—are capable of such deeds. When tragedy strikes around the globe, armies of helpers from every walk of life join hands to render aid. There are multimillionaires who have profited from sin and lawlessness who nevertheless “do good” with some of that money. The starving man doesn’t care that the food offered to him is tainted by “man’s righteousness.” A dying child isn’t concerned that the surgeon working to save her life is not a Christian.

“Good” things are done apart from Jesus, but only from an eternal perspective will the complete and final fruit of those deeds be seen. It reminds me of James 1:19’s command to be slow in anger, because the anger of man doesn’t bring about God’s righteousness. He doesn’t say it, but it’s true: the anger of man may not result in godliness, but it does get results. An angry mom can whip a household into a flurry of activity…voila! clean house…but also wounds. Scars. Fear and resentment. In the same way, an angry boss may scream his way into increased production from his employees, but he has also lost their respect.

Man’s anger gets results but not the results God intended. Man’s acts of righteousness get results too; however, the fruit of these good works is nothing like the fruit of God’s righteousness. Compared with God’s holiness and purity, the best we can offer is lifeless and barren, good only to be thrown away. And yet, when we come before him, wrapped in our dirty linen, the rags that prove there is no new life, he washes us with the blood that is life, the shed blood of Jesus. He invites us to participate with him in acts of righteousness that will yield lasting fruit.

Jesus…because. Now there’s a phrase that won’t ever be dated.

Permission to reprint with acknowledgement of source.

May 10, 2010 The Freedom to Un-Box

Recently I was answering questions on a study guide for a Bible study, and I got mad at one of them. The two-part question went something like this—

A. Which are you more likely to do tonight: (1) watch television, (2) read a book, or (3) spend time with the Lord? (My answer? “TV.”)

B. What does your answer tell you about yourself and your walk with God? (My answer? “Not a dadblame thing.” Actually, I used a shorter, more colorful word to reflect my attitude, and I was sort of looking forward to discussing it at Bible study. For some reason, it never came up.)

The question’s offensiveness was the implication that one standard for behavior exists, an idea that is not only unbiblical, but which also fairly reeks of man’s thinking and religiosity. The writer stopped short of calling anyone spiritually shallow or inferior if they didn’t attend nightly prayer meetings, but the whole concept of putting people into boxes, to presume to put God into a box, gets my knickers in a twist. So to speak.

But let’s think about it. If God were truly first in your life, wouldn’t you be on your face before him, every opportunity you had? I think not. Jesus, during his time on earth, was one with the Father and full of the Holy Spirit. He also spent a lot of time with other people— tax collectors, prostitutes, fishermen, teachers of the Law, little children. In John 5:19 Jesus said he only did what he saw the Father doing. Which means those “nonspiritual” things…sitting around the campfire at night with the sons of Zebedee, enjoying a meal with Lazarus… were on the Father’s heart as well.

Obviously Jesus drew apart for times of personal communion, but I doubt he kept a prayer journal or felt guilty if he didn’t start at 6:30am every morning. (Not that there’s anything wrong with journals or early prayer. It’s just that we have this annoying human tendency to regard our personal convictions as the Best Method For Holy Living, maybe even write a book about it, and miss the whole point.)

Paul had a tent-making business. Peter had a family. The jailer who was converted in Acts 16 showed up for work the next morning. If we’re walking in peace with, and obedience to, God, aren’t we spending time with him whether we’re standing behind a pulpit or a sitting behind a steering wheel? Whether we’re on our knees praying to the Lord or on our knees cleaning a floor? If we are called to “Do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 11:7) doesn’t it follow that all our actions falling within the scope of obedience (i.e. not sinful) and done with thankful hearts do, in fact, bring him glory? Taking the kids to school, studying for a test, enjoying an afternoon nap, sitting down to a meal, having sex with your wife….for the believer, these all have the potential for glorifying God.

A French monk in the 17th century by the name of Brother Lawrence discovered that devotion to God didn’t have to ebb and flow according to circumstances. Even when he stumbled (physically, he was crippled; spiritually, he was imperfect), he found that with practice, he could maintain an equally strong focus on and fellowship with God when he washed dishes alone and when he worshipped corporately. He realized he could freely converse with God within his heart regardless of what he was doing physically, seeking to maintain that communion always. A little book of his letters entitled The Practice of the Presence of God, published after his death in 1691, continues to challenge and inspire today.

Could a constant flow of relationship with the Creator of the universe really be that simple? That all-consuming?

Brother Lawrence would, no doubt, have responded differently to that pesky study question than I did. To part B- what do your choices tell you about yourself—he might have said, “Anything about myself is of no consequence…it is only God and his glory that matter.”

Do all to the glory of God. Whatever he leads you to do at the moment. I’ll try not to judge you; you try not to judge me.

Deal?

Permission to use with acknowledgement of source

ellenofgillette1@aol.com

April 26, 2010 What Would Jesus Do...About Television?

I grew up with sitcoms like “The Andy Griffith Show,” “Hazel,” “Leave it to Beaver,” and “Father Knows Best.” (Actually, when I was very young, we lived in a valley that had spotty reception, so my experience with the shows came in later incarnations as reruns.) Whereas at one time there was quite the scandal about Jeannie’s belly button (“I Dream of Jeannie”) and Rob and Laura’s sleeping arrangements (“The Dick Van Dyke Show”), things have taken a much more graphic turn these days. Only the laugh track is the same.

Those who know me know that I’m no prude—if anything, I probably err in the opposite direction in terms of openness about certain issues. As an adult, I can handle adult conversation and adult themes, even adult beverages, within the appropriate contexts. This week, however, I became convinced that if I never see another sitcom again, it won’t bother me a bit.

When my teenagers became faithful followers of “Friends,” I watched with them. The writing was tight, the actors believable, and the jokes were actually funny. It didn’t portray a godly lifestyle, but at least there were positive story lines. Compared with what I heard Monday night last week, “Friends” was mild indeed. (Sort of like watching the Beatles at the beginning, when everyone thought they were so wild-looking then and they seem so clean-cut now).

Flipping through the channels, it amazed me how—with a gazillion channels available—there was really nothing I wanted to watch. “House” was over and I’ve never seen “24”, so what was the alternative? Sadly, I stopped in to visit “Two and a Half Men.” I haven’t seen males giggle over the names for female body parts since 8th grade. I couldn’t stomach more than about five minutes before switching over to “Romantically Challenged.” Apparently Hollywood thinks spanking fetishes are hilarious. Dishonesty and promiscuity…oh, what fun!

Perhaps it was because of those distasteful, albeit brief, forays into popular television that beckoned me to try “Glee” out two nights later. I’d seen a few of its shows at the start but when teenage pregnancy, deception, homosexuality, and outright meanness began overshadowing the excellent musical numbers, I’d closed the curtain. (Those are important issues to address, no question—just not what I look for in a bit of light escapism.) The “Madonna” episode had been promoted so heavily, however, I took the bait.

Other than the ongoing feud between the girls’ PE teacher and the Glee Club director, the episode revolved around three individuals struggling with sexuality, two of whom were underage. The adults involved (the man still married to someone else) never followed through, and the caring man encouraged the woman to get therapy for her “problem.” Apparently not-wanting-to-have-sex now equals mental instability. Viewers were left hoping that surely, surely, the young female lead and the young male lead will eventually get back together, regardless of with whom they had sex or with whom they’re not ready to have sex yet or who thinks they should have sex with whom. Do they ever have time for homework?

We’re not in Kansas any more, Toto.

Then they pulled out the WWMD bracelets. “What Would Madonna Do?” …that’s right…even though the “What Would Jesus Do” phenomena eventually reached the hokey stage, at its heart the intent—asking ourselves what Jesus would do in every situation--was wonderful…obviously something Hollywood needs to ridicule.

Laughing at ourselves isn’t all bad; Christians tend to take themselves far too seriously, in my opinion. But how did we get from wholesomeness and moral lessons told with humor and sensitivity (and much better writing), to making fun of sacred ideals?

A friend of mine once shared a story of a pristine white church building. Satan knew that if he poured black paint on it, everyone would be in an uproar. Instead, he took a spray bottle of paint and just spritzed it a little each day. Spritz. Spritz. In time…and it took a long time… the white took on a slightly gray tinge. Then a darker gray…by the time it was black, everyone was used to it.

My mother uses the word “jaded” to describe this…we’ve been introduced to alternatives to what we know is true in small doses, with expert subtlety. If I’d been watching the particular shows I mentioned all along (just the thought of wasting that much time makes me shudder), I may well have missed the message. Seeing them “fresh”…and so close together…the underlying error screamed with in-your-face hostility.

What Would Jesus Do? It’s not as simple as saying he wouldn’t watch television, or even that he wouldn’t watch “Two and a Half Men.” He might watch things you couldn’t pay me to see (horror movies, for example). I don’t presume to know what he would or wouldn’t do. I’m just saying that if I’m watching something that (a) isn’t even funny/helpful/uplifting (b) isn’t really entertaining, and/or (c) goes against all I believe, I can always just turn the darn thing off.

Or at least look for Andy and Opie on “Nick at Nite.”

Permission to use with acknowledgement of source.
ellenofgillette1@aol.com

April 12, 2010 A New National Pastime

“If we had no faults of our own, we should not take so much
pleasure in noticing those in others.” Francois de La Rochefoucauld

“Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,” while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your
own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.” Jesus

Reality television has been around awhile, its roots in such shows as “Candid Camera” and game shows, increasing with writers’ strikes in 1988 and 1997. Whatever its origins, however, it shows all signs of being here to stay. What started with “Big Brother” has mushroomed into everything from “Trading Spouses” to “Intervention.” From the comfort of our couches or bedrooms we peer into the lives of those hoping to become the next celebrity dancer or vocalist, hoping to survive, hoping to win the race. We look at the nitty gritty details of the world’s dirtiest and most dangerous jobs. We go with scientists on expedition, doctors into surgery, ride with police officers arresting an endless parade of bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do…

Our taste for so-called “reality” appears to know no bounds. Why, exactly, are we entertained by “Hoarders”? Each program introduces viewers to individuals or families currently burying themselves in their own squalor. They may be facing eviction, divorce, losing children to Social Services, or other crises because of their accumulation of…stuff.

We came across “Hoarders” not too long ago and have watched it a few times since. The first time, though, it was immediately clear what the draw is. None of us lives in a perfectly kept household (at least no one I know). One of my favorite magnets is the one that says “Dull women have immaculate houses”—and I’ve never been accused of being dull! When we see examples of extreme untidiness, larger than life (literally) piles of debris that confound even the professionals called in to help, it reaffirms what we knew all along: I’m not THAT bad.

Judging and comparing ourselves to others has become, with reality television, a national pastime. During “American Idol” auditions, we cringe at the poor unfortunates who think they’re on their way to stardom but who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. When they show up, buckets run the other way. “I’m not Idol material,” we think, “but at least I know it. And I sing a lot better than he/she does.”

We…yes, all of us…have dysfunctional families to some degree or another, but we “objectively” watch drama unfold with nannies and spouses and unfaithfulness and rebellious kids and we breathe a sigh a relief. Yes, we’ve got our share of drama on the home front, but at least it’s not like theirs.

The danger is obvious, in light of the quotes above. If we were perfect, we would be more tolerant of those who are not. If we followed Jesus as we should, we would take care of our own problems before “helping” others with theirs. Our focus should begin in our own hearts, with our own sins and failures. “Let him who is without sin, cast the first stone,” Jesus told the crowd who wanted to punish the woman caught in adultery (see John 8), an interesting and immediate way to thin out the would-be accusers. No one, in fact, threw a single pebble. Each person felt the conviction in his words; each thought of a secret sin he or she would not want publicly aired.

With reality television such as “Hoarders” we see people at their most vulnerable. Their “secret” sin is anything but, splashed across our widescreens in high definition. To reach that point, they must be desperate indeed. Not only do they realize they must get help, but they suffer our participation in the painful recovery process as they come to grips with why they feel it necessary to hang on to a gazillion rotting stuffed animals…or worse, rotting food with all the accompanying vermin associated. Professional counselors and organizers try…sometimes successfully, sometimes not…to bring lasting solutions.

Some believe that where John 8 mentions Jesus writing in the sand, he was writing the individual sins of the woman’s accusers for everyone to see. Today, the sins of the crowd become our “entertainment.”

Just keep that camera turned the other way, please.

Permission to reprint with acknowledgement of source.

ellenofgillette1@aol.com

March 29, 2010 The "S" Word

Years ago, our family was invited to vacation with owners of a home on Scotland Cay in the Bahamas. Snorkeling in the crystal clear ocean was incredible—everything so colorful and vibrant. Obviously in the open sea, there is always the potential for danger as well; so that the younger ones didn’t get frightened, it was suggested that we refer to shark sightings as spotting an “S” fish.

Although it’s a cultural taboo—people in other parts of the world where it’s not considered a “bad” word use it routinely—you’ve probably instructed your children not to use a certain “S” word. Why? Because you don’t want your child’s teacher or other parents knowing that (1) you use the word yourself in times of frustration or pain, or (2) allow your children to watch television where it pops up frequently. Kids don’t usually say things they never hear!

And not even horrendous side-effects and possible arrest dissuades amateur and professional athletes from taking “Vitamin S” (steroids) to enhance their look or performance.

There is another S word that carries negative connotations even among Christians, although it comes straight off the pages of the Bible and straight from the heart of God: Submission. Because the idea of submission to authority has been used to manipulate and control others, it’s no wonder some people roll their eyes at the mere mention.

For example, Paul’s directive in Ephesians 5, and Peter’s in 1 Peter 2 are two of the verses historically pulled out whenever there is conflict within a marriage:

22 Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything (Ephesians 5, NIV).

1 In the same way, you wives, be submissive to your own husbands so that even if any [of them] are disobedient to the word, they may be won without a word by the behavior of their wives, 2 as they observe your chaste and respectful behavior…
6 Thus Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord, and you have become her children if you do what is right without being frightened by any fear (1 Peter 3, NIV).

The implication is sometimes that if a woman will submit, everything will be hunky-dory. Wrong…husbands have instructions as well - to love their wives as Christ loved the Church (in my opinion, a much more difficult concept).

However, the Bible doesn’t make one party’s obedience to God conditional on the other party’s. It doesn’t say, “Husbands, love your wives when they are submissive” or “Wives, submit to your husbands if they are loving.” Each one has a specific command from God, and we are to submit to him first.

Early in our marriage I remember asking my husband to pray about whether or not I should help with the youth group at our church. “Pray about it yourself,” he said. “You can hear from God.” This was important because as a teenager I was part of a church that walked through a very strong submission teaching—strong in a worldly, carnal way, not a spiritual one. A group of people who sincerely wanted to submit to God and honor him was led down a path of error. Trust was abused to an alarming degree, yet God protected his people because of their hearts; I would venture to guess that the majority of that congregation is still serving God today.

My husband knew instinctively that I might have a tendency to blindly revere his authority, even as I had been taught to blindly follow church leadership. He made it clear that although he took his role as my husband seriously, he would not become a substitute for God himself.

Submission is God’s idea, and his ideas are always loving, and best. Just because Satan is constantly trying to twist God’s ideas and use them for harm doesn’t mean that the idea itself is anything but pure and holy.

Submission is about more than marriage, obviously. And there will always be challenges—our government is not perfect. Our church leaders are not perfect. Our husbands are not perfect. Our parents are not perfect. The world systems which we must obey (or suffer the consequences) on a daily basis are not perfect. God, however, is perfect. His ways are higher than our ways, we see in Isaiah 55. His thoughts are not our thoughts. He uses his government to teach things like humility, honor, respect, love, compassion…

Not a bad word in the bunch.




Permission to reprint with acknowledgment of source.

Ellenofgillette1@aol.com