A week ago I wrote about our baby who was transverse in the womb, and that a C-section looked certain. When Robyn went to the doctor on Tuesday for her last regular exam, she found out that the baby had turned and is now in the correct position! God certainly answered our prayers for this! I was a little awed by that, and I was a little ashamed that I felt so surprised that it happened. I certainly understand that God doesn't always answer prayer exactly as we hope, but my surprise betrayed the fact that the doctor's word that the baby would most likely not turn held more weight with me than the hope that the Lord would answer our prayer that she would.
So, Robyn is going to the hospital on Monday to be induced. Lord willing, we will welcome the newest Johnson baby into the family sometime that day (morning would be nice!).
I had the unique experience today of being the subject of a video project conducted by an OU anthropology major. Her project involves video-taping interviews of representatives of the three Abrahamic faiths, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.
I and Fanning, a man who has been visiting Grace over the last few months, sat down one at a time in front of a small video-camera while she asked us a series of questions about our faith. It was a little strange that in her first question, she asked me to explain my belief in my "higher power". It was just a bit odd because no adherent to any of the three above faiths would refer to God as a "higher power". But, being an anthropology student, I am guessing she is just using the acceptable, generic term for whatever God or gods a particular people might worship. However, when you consider it, that term is definitely an expression of a very narrow culture, our secular and post-Christian Western culture. In that sense it is not very generic at all!
Her questions were all very straightforward: "Do you talk to your God?", "Does God speak to you?", and "Is God directly in control of your life?" I would be very interested to hear what other answers she received from the other faith representatives.
It was a good opportunity to express my faith, and to speak of Christ to this young lady. She herself is not a Christian, and did not grow up in a church-going home. I wished her all the best with her project, and let her know that I hope that someday the answers she would give to those questions will be the same as the answers that Fanning and I gave.
It was something different from the regular routine. I never thought I'd be the subject of an anthropology study! I don't think of myself as that interesting or exotic, just a normal guy who has been given the gift of faith in Christ.
At the Johnson home, we are eagerly waiting the arrival of baby Johnson #4. We have the cradle ready, we have the baby swing freshly cleaned and reassembled after being in storage, we have the baby car seat ready for its little occupant, and we have a moniker picked out - all ready for the arrival of our baby girl. Nothing beats the happy anticipation of meeting your baby and welcoming her into your family.
Our baby does have one problem, though. And that is, she is in a transverse position in the womb. Not only is coming out sideways out of the question (coming out longways is hard enough!), but she is also pressed up against her umbilical in such a way that labor contractions could threaten her life. For this reason, Robyn is going to have a C-section unless the baby decides to flip into the right position beforehand, that is, with her head down. This is scheduled for March 5th.
Our doctor has advised us not to panic, that things will work out fine with the C-section. I wish the baby could come naturally, but am extremely thankful to live in a day and age in which the technology is available for safely delivering a baby in a problem pregnancy such as this. We take so much for granted, living in the 21st century and in a nation with all the latest technology available. So, Lord willing, the baby will come with no complications.
I am also very blessed to be the father of soon-to-be four children. God has been extraordinarily good to me, and to our family, and for that I am so grateful.
Since I’m a Calvinist, it’s only right that I should read John Calvin. I did read some Calvin in seminary, but not as much as one might think. There is a virtually unlimited amount of theological reading material that professors would like their students to read, but a very limited amount of time. So, we got portions of Calvin’s Institutes but not much else.
Like so many so many books on my shelf collecting dust, I’d often look at my two-volume set of the Institutes of the Christian Religion and think, “Someday I’m going to read those.” About a year ago, just as I was having those thoughts, a friend asked me if I’d be willing to read the Institutes with him. We’d read a small portion, and then meet once a week to discuss it. We began this discussion group and before long there were four of us meeting weekly at Panera’s to talk about our assigned reading pages. Two dropped out for different reasons, and for a while now it’s just a pair of us. We read about 25 pages a week and discuss it over coffee.
Remarkably, we’ve covered over 1100 pages in a little more than a year’s time. And it’s been a great blessing to read Calvin and think and talk over his theology. It’s quite incredible to think that a book written about 450 years ago (1559 was the final edition of the Institutes) can still speak with such authority and force today. Calvin’s writings not only reveal the man’s genius, but more importantly his profound and intimate knowledge of Scripture. As one author put it, he writes as though he is speaking from within the text itself, so familiar is he with the warp and woof of biblical revelation. If I knew Scripture a tenth as well as he did, I’d probably be ten times the preacher and pastor that I am.
One of the gifts I requested for Christmas was a large print of John Calvin to hang on my office wall. My wife told my mother about it, and she ordered it off the internet and framed it for me. Who asks for a framed picture of a 16th-century theologian with a funny-looking beard for Christmas? Although my mom thinks I’m a bit odd, it’s going to look great on the wall when I get it hung up. It’ll be a reminder that I’m just a dwarf standing on the shoulders of the giants of the faith who have gone before us.
Embedded in the text of Genesis 31 is a wicked satire of idolatry. The chapter describes Jacob’s furtive escape from the land of Haran, and from under the oppressive hand of his uncle and father-in-law Laban. After a twenty year sojourn there, and after having gained two wives, Rachel and Leah (plus their two maidservants as quasi-wives), eleven children, and an abundance of flocks and wealth, Jacob obeys the Lord’s command to return to his homeland Canaan.
Before they begin the long sojourn there, however, Rachel absconds some of the household idols in her father Laban’s house. Did she think they would protect her on the trip to Canaan? Or did she hope they would enable her to conceive again and bear another son to Jacob? We don’t know; but for some reason she felt that, like American Express cardholders, she shouldn’t leave home without them.
Idols are thought to give blessing to those who worship them, and for that reason are supposed to have some sort of power. But what kind of powerful idols are these that can be whisked away by whomever wants them? As one commentator nicely puts it, these idols have been “godnapped”!
Now they need a savior to bring them home again. Just at the same time that the Lord, the living and true God, is acting in his almighty power to deliver his servant Jacob out of Haran, poor Laban must scramble to catch up with the departing party in order to deliver his idols from theft. Apparently these gods need a helping hand from time to time!
After Laban rummages through all the tents of Jacob and his family looking for the idols, he looks at his daughter Rachel, sitting on top of a camel. Maybe he just assumed that his daughter would willingly dismount so he could check the saddle-basket under her. Had that happened, he would have found them since Rachel had snuck them in there before Laban checked her tent (unlike the Lord, these gods aren’t a hiding place for their worshippers, but can be discovered in various hiding-places).
But Rachel told her father she couldn’t dismount because “the way of women” was upon her. Either she was lying, which shows she had learned a thing or two from the old man about the art of deception, or she was telling the truth, which just happened to be a very convenient truth indeed. If it was the latter, here is the final jab against these hapless mini-gods: they were being made unclean by a menstruating woman sitting on them.
There is a wonderful bit of inspired sarcasm targeted at idols in Psalm 115: “They have mouths,” the Psalmist says, “but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk…” (Psalm 115:5-7). Here in Genesis 31 is a bit of inspired satire. These so-called gods are carried off, are in need of recovery, are easily hidden away, and are at last made unclean. So much for the power of idols!
A seminary professor I had once cited one scholar’s summary of the entire Old Testament, that the Lord was worthy of worship. The Old Testament, indeed all the Bible, also teaches this, that idols are utterly unworthy of our worship. It is sheer madness and folly to seek blessing and life from anything other than the living and true God who has come to us in the person of Jesus Christ.
Idols, whether of success, or money, or security, or comfort, or pleasure, are as hapless and helpless as the little gods Rachel just had to take with her on the way to promised land. O Lord, help us to lose the idols we have tucked away in our hearts and carry with us on our own pilgrimage of faith!
As I type this, I'm listening to the new Norah Jones album, "Not Too Late." I don't remember how I first heard of her, but I've come to really enjoy her music. I've got it playing on Napster.com. They only give you three free listenings to each album, and this is my third time to hear it, so it is also my last.
Here are some scattered thoughts of mine:
Godly sorrow.
I read this verse this morning: My eyes shed streams of tears, because people do not keep your law (Psalm 119:136). Much of the Psalm is a challenge to read as a Christian because the Psalmist not only claims to love the law, but he also seems to appeal to God's favor and blessing on the basis of his love for, and adherence to, the law. I think a close reading reveals that this is not the case; the Psalmist, like all the Old Testament saints, understood that salvation is by grace alone. But, at the same time, he doesn't shy away from fully affirming the place of the law in his life as a member of God's covenant people.
But the verse above is particularly challenging, and for a different reason: it shows how shallow my own love for God's righteousness really is. We are living in a culture in which lawlessness abounds everywhere, yet I am hardly affected by it at all. If I am ever moved by others' lawbreaking, it is the inner Pharisee coming to life, ready to point a condemning finger at those lawless heathen who show no regard for godliness or righteousness. What a hypocrite I am at that point, seeing as how I am no less a sinner, and no less capable of whatever sin I notice in others. But even to conquer a self-righteous spirit is no proof of a true love for God's law. Rather, a heart in love with the law is one that sincerely grieves at the sight of its being flaunted. Show me a man who is genuinely heart-broken at the sin of another (not smugly satisfied!), and I'll show you a man after this Psalmist's, and Christ's own, heart.
More Shackleton!
In an earlier post, I wondered about the spiritual life of the men on Shackleton's ill-fated Antarctic expedition. I got ahold of another book that included this wonderful quote by Shackleton himself. He is speaking of the journey that he and two others took from one side of South Georgia to the other, which they miraculously survived:
When I look back at those days I have no doubt that Providence guided us, not only across those snowfields, but across the storm-white sea that separated Elephant Island from our landing-place on South Georgia. I know that during that long and racking march of thirty-six hours over the unnamed mountains and glaciers of South Georgia it seemed to me often that we were four, not three. I said nothing to my companions on the point, but afterwards Worsley said to me, "Boss I had a curious feeling on the march that there was another person with us." Crean confessed to the same idea.
I don't know a thing about Shackleton's heart or whether he had faith in Christ, but it is hard to imagine a more powerful testimony to God's gracious presence in the midst of trouble. It is also hard to imagine someone living through this and not giving thanks to God's mercy and deliverance.
Our daughters home at last!
The last couple of weeks were unusual for us, in that we were separated from our two daughters all but a couple days. First there was a trip to Alaska, for which we left the girls here in Norman with friends of ours for several days (and they are still our friends!). Then, the girls went down to Galveston, Texas, to stay with Robyn's mom and her husband Duane for another few days. As hectic and stressful as things get with their energy and the non-stop outflow of words from their mouths, I missed them a ton. It is great to to have them back home.
One of the exciting arrivals to the faculty of Westminster Theological Seminary when I was a student there was Dr. Carl Trueman from the UK, who joined the staff to teach Church History. We called him "Carl", rather than "Dr. Trueman", since he was not old enough for the more formal and dignified address. It's hard for me to imagine students calling him "Dr. Trueman," but I suppose they will in 15 years or so.
Carl was proud of his Englishness, telling us from time to time that to be born English is to "win the lottery of life." His wife had the misfortune to be a Scot, but she did the next best thing to winning life's lottery by marrying an Englishman. Carl also enjoyed poking fun at American customs, such as wearing baseball caps, which he claimed automatically dropped 40 points off one's I.Q. the moment they are placed on the head. One day the whole class put on baseball caps while Carl was opening with prayer. Unfortunately, a rat tipped him off, and he was ready with a cap of his own to put on.
I've really come to enjoy Carl's insight and humor when he writes about the contemporary Christian world. You can read his articles on reformation21.org. His latest article is about how some evangelical Christians misappropriate the notion of Christian freedom to speak and act in ways that are purposefully shocking to traditional Christian sensibilities. They are trying desperately to be cool, but as Carl writes, it is impossible to do:
Christianity just isn’t cool, savvy or hip. As my sons repeatedly tell me, `Dad, you’re a balding middle aged guy; you listen to rock dinosaurs from the land that time forgot; you still call male hairdressers “barbers;” and you’re a member of the OPC; you can never, ever be cool; and the more you try to be so, the more embarrassing you become.’ And the same applies to evangelical Christianity – evangelicalism just isn’t cool or hip or avant-garde, and attempts to make it appear so, whether theologically or culturally, always end up as self-defeating, rather sad and pitiful. It doesn’t matter whether you sport a ponytail, spout postmodern gobbledygook, wear a Kurt Cobain teeshirt, or have a strong opinion on which U2 album is the best – if you’re an evangelical Christian, there’s something ineradicably uncool about you. Anyone out there remember `The Rock Gospel Show’ from the mid-eighties? I rest my case.
He's right on about the "uncoolness" of biblical Christianity. To be cool means, among other things, to conform to the world's ideas of what is good and desirable. A Christian, on the other hand, is one who seeks to conform his thoughts, values, and practices to those of the Scriptures. As Carl points out, a Christian may look as cool as the rocker next to him, but at some point his commitment to Christ will put him in a position that is decidedly opposed to what the world thinks is cool.
I was never a cool guy myself. In fact, I was least cool when I tried to be a cool guy. The closest I came to being hip was in the 5th grade, when I lived in the L.A. suburbs and wore Vans, which were at that time the cutting-edge of Southern California fashion. When a family move took us to the panhandle of Texas the next year, I showed up to school sporting my Vans and was just considered wierd. And it was pretty much downhill ever since.
So when I became a Christian, I did not have to sacrifice any coolness for the sake of the gospel. But, I did have to surrender my craving for the acceptance and approval of others, and begin seeking to please Christ instead. And pleasing Christ means nothing less than picking up his cross and following him as Lord. There is nothing so uncool as the cross, and every genuine Christian, no matter how hip he may appear, must at some point identify himself with his Savior by taking up that symbol of rejection and shame and bearing it before the world. Paul said this about the coolness of Christians: "We are fools for Christ's sake" (1 Cor. 4:10). But, being a fool is a small price to pay in comparison to the eternal life and glory that belongs to those who are uncool enough to follow Christ.