"A bruised reed He will not break."

Recently I was compelled to read a little book that's been sitting on our shelf for a year or two – The Bruised Reed by Richard Sibbes. First published in 1630, this book is available in a 2008 reprint from The Banner of Truth Trust, in their wonderful Puritan Paperbacks series. Don't let the idea of archaic seventeenth-century language dissuade you; this book is very readable, possibly the easiest Puritan text I've encountered. It is also a deeply comforting book.

Richard Sibbes (1577–1635) was an English Puritan preacher who flourished a century after the Reformation began. According to Beeke & Pederson's Meet the Puritans (Reformation Heritage, 2006), he was known for his godly lifestyle and for reaching Englishmen of all classes with his plain, Christ-centered preaching. The Bruised Reed, one of his most celebrated works, is an exposition of Isaiah 42:3, "a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench." In Sibbes' own words (p. 72), "The comfort intended in this text is for those that would fain do better, but find their corruptions clog them; that are in such a mist, that often they cannot tell what to think of themselves; that fain would believe, and yet often fear that they do not believe; and that think that it cannot be that God should be so good to such sinful wretches as they are."

My intent isn't to take up any more space with biography or outline, however, but to let you read some Sibbes for yourself. As I read, I kept marking sections and thinking, "These quotations are golden; I must share them with my friends." So here you are:

"Hence we learn that we must not pass too harsh judgment upon ourselves or others when God exercises us with bruising upon bruising. There must be a conformity to our head, Christ, who 'was bruised for us' (Isa. 53:5) that we may know how much we are bound unto him." (p. 5)

*

"Ungodly spirits, ignorant of God's ways in bringing his children to heaven, censure broken-hearted Christians as miserable persons, whereas God is doing a gracious, good work with them. It is no easy matter to bring a man from nature to grace, and from grace to glory, so unyielding and intractable are our hearts." (6)

*

"If Christ be so merciful as not to break me, I will not break myself by despair." (10)

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"A Christian complains he cannot pray. 'Oh, I am troubled with so many distracting thoughts, and never more than now!' But has he put into your heart a desire to pray? Then he will hear the desires of his own Spirit in you...God can pick sense out of a confused prayer. These desires cry louder in his ears than your sins. Sometimes a Christian has such confused thoughts that he can say nothing but, as a child, cries, 'O Father,' not able to express what he needs, like Moses at the Red Sea. These stirrings of spirit touch the heart of God and melt him into compassion towards us, when they come from the Spirit of adoption, and from a striving to be better." (51)

*

"Weaknesses do not break covenant with God. They do not break the covenant between husband and wife, and shall we make ourselves more pitiful than Christ who makes himself a pattern of love to all other husbands? Weaknesses do not debar us from mercy; rather they incline God to us the more. Mercy is a part of the church's marriage inheritance...The husband is bound to bear with the wife, as being the 'weaker vessel' (1 Pet. 3:7), and shall we think Christ will exempt himself from his own rule, and not bear with his weak spouse?" (58)

*

"Failings, with conflict, in sanctification should not weaken the peace of our justification and assurance of salvation. It matters not so much what ill is in us, as what good; not what corruptions, but how we regard them; not what our particular failings are so much as what the thread and tenor of our lives are, for Christ's dislike of that which is amiss in us turns not to the hatred of our persons but to the victorious subduing of all our infirmities." (96)

*

"If we look to the present state of the church of Christ, it is as Daniel in the midst of lions, as a lily amongst thorns, as a ship not only tossed but almost covered with waves. It is so low that the enemies think they have buried Christ, with respect to his gospel, in the grave, and there they think to keep him from rising. But as Christ rose in his person, so he will roll away all stones and rise again in his church." (125)

*

"Let us make use of this mercy and power of his every day in our daily combats: 'Lord Jesus, thou hast promised not to quench the smoking flax, nor to break the bruised reed. Cherish thy grace in me; leave me not to myself; the glory shall be thine.' Let us not allow Satan to transform Christ to us, to make him other than he is to those that are his. Christ will not leave us till he has made us like himself, all glorious within and without, and presented us blameless before his Father." (123)

"by His grace, in this part of His vineyard, I grow."

It occurred to me that I've had this blog for about a year now. That means we've been living in St. Louis for two whole years—longer than we'd lived in Berkeley. We've already spent more than half our marriage here.

I've been reflecting lately on how St. Louis truly feels like home to me. I don't just mean in a sentimental way, or that I feel like I've lived there all my life. It's also not true that Western Pennsylvania and Southern California aren't "home"; they probably always will be, no matter where we end up. But there is a real sense in which it's home, and I think there are two pieces of that:

First, the fact that we decided it was home before we even moved in. As we made our decision about where I would begin a doctoral program, Kevin and I were very intentional about choosing a place that would not only allow me to thrive academically, but where we could establish a home. I want to be careful not to make this sound like a diss on Berkeley; there are people in Berkeley I deeply miss, and even a few other things...there will always be a certain sweetness about the first place we lived as a married couple. But I'm not sure we ever felt settled there. It was rocky ground for us. Nevertheless, I know that the Lord put us there for specific reasons, and in time I trust I'll better understand them. (...I hope so. I have questions!)

It quickly became evident that St. Louis had the potential to be home for us in a way that Northern California was not. There were many practical aspects of this, affordability being only one. The bigger reason was that we immediately found a church we loved and said, "This is our church." (Admittedly, this is made easier by the fact that we aren't seminarians—no matter how often we're mistaken for them!—and we don't have a home church elsewhere.) We took the attitude that St. Louis was where we meant to put down roots for a good long while. I, especially, have clung to the belief that my school is only one reason we're here, and it isn't the only or most important part of our lives here. It could be that I'm reacting strongly against a decade of being labeled as a transient student and refuse to be defined by that any longer. Whatever the wisdom of that, it's felt rather crucial to my sanity at times, and apparently it's effective, as I often forget that we technically still fall under that "just-passing-through" category.

The second, more important reason that St. Louis is home is because God has made it that for us. He knew what we needed far better than we did, and he has provided for our every need. I've continually been humbled by his providence—materially, spiritually, relationally—during our short time in St. Louis. He picked out the apartment we would move into, the neighbors we would have, the church we would attend, the small groups we would join, long before we ever thought about them. He planned the classes we would take, the sermons we would hear, the conversations we'd cherish, the months we'd just scrape by, and the joyfully routine days and weeks. All of these things—both the things that make me glad and the things that, as of this moment, make no sense to me—are part of a story God has already written. However it unfolds, God is glorifying himself in it, and teaching me that I am found in him.

Though we anticipate being in St. Louis for two or three more years (I truly can't begin to picture what our lives will look like at that point, or where we'll be headed next), we know very well how things can change. No matter what, it is highly likely that we won't be here forever. That doesn't take away from the fact that St. Louis has truly been, and is, our home. It's my prayer that my home and heart will be as open as possible during whatever remaining time the Lord has for us here.

The unopinionated blogger?

Lately I've been noticing that I'm not a very opinionated person. No doubt this realization was brought on by the fact that I'm wrestling with my dissertation topic, trying to identify a niche in the scholarship that's all mine. This exercise is all about stating and defending an opinion nobody has made before. Occasionally, I wonder if I'm cut out for this. But I remember all the people who've invested in helping me reach this level, and I trust their judgment. They are not dumb people, and let's face it, I'm not a good enough actress to convince them I'm something I'm not.

Still, I've noticed that, in general, I much more readily acquiesce to others' opinions than argue for my own. It's more comfortable for me. I've wondered if it's connected to my aversion to speaking up in general. Some of the time, it's not just that I'm afraid to state my opinion; it's that I don't have one, or don't want to dig deeply enough to figure it out what it might be. It's almost as if I don't let myself think, for fear of developing an opinion. Because if I have an opinion, I might be called upon to share it, and not only would that mean having to assert myself, it could mean disagreeing painfully with someone I care about. Much easier to just not think about whatever it is, and assume that the people around me are smarter and better informed.

It might be that being "opinionated," or a particularly original thinker, is just not in my makeup. I think that's okay. And I suppose it's not an inherently bad trait to be disposed to take other people's word for things. I would like, however, to know my own mind a bit better, and be less afraid to share it as appropriate. Not only for my sake, but for the sake of anyone the Lord might give me the opportunity to train and teach, and who might read what I write. As much as I sometimes shrink from believing it, the Lord has given me a good mind, and I'm commanded to use its full powers (along with the rest of me) to love and honor him.

Even while seeking to become more discerning about some things, I take comfort in knowing that I am held fast in the Truth. In that I'm immovable, and not because I reasoned my way into it. And I know that when it's called for, He'll give me the boldness to speak about what is truly important.

Hymn that's in my heart right now

I was first introduced to this hymn via Red Mountain Church's album "The Gadsby Project" over three years ago. It's been among my favorite "old hymns" since that time, but it took on renewed meaning when I listened to it a couple of days ago. I hope you'll hear God's promises for you in these words the way I do. Be sure to read the scripture reference, too.

"Pensive, Doubting, Fearful Heart"

Gadsby's Hymns #273

Text by John Newton

"To the afflicted"—Isaiah 54:4-11

Pensive, doubting, fearful heart, 

Hear what Christ the Saviour says;

Every word should joy impart,

Change thy mourning into praise.

Yes, he speaks, and speaks to thee,

May he help thee to believe;

Then thou presently wilt see

Thou hast little cause to grieve.

"Fear thou not, nor be ashamed;

All thy sorrows soon shall end,

I, who heaven and earth have framed,

Am thy Husband and thy Friend;

I, the High and Holy One,

Israel's God, by all adored,

As thy Saviour will be known,

Thy Redeemer and thy Lord.

"For a moment I withdrew,

And thy heart was filled with pain;

But my mercies I'll renew;

Thou shalt soon rejoice again;

Though I seem to hide my face,

Very soon my wrath shall cease;

'Tis but for a moment's space,

Ending in eternal peace.

Though afflicted, tempest-tossed,

Comfortless awhile thou art,

Do not think thou canst be lost,

Thou art graven on my heart;

All thy wastes I will repair;

Thou shalt be rebuilt anew;

And in thee it shall appear

What the God of love can do."

 

Worship & emotion -- concluding (?) thoughts

Back in April, before the semester got really overwhelming, I wrote a couple of posts (here and here) asking questions about worship and emotion. I was considering a third post on the "objectivity" of worship and even of joy.

I still think these are questions worth asking, but I don't know that I've come to any strong conclusions about them. I do believe that we are commanded to rejoice, and that rejoicing may or may not correspond to our subjective feelings at a given moment. And on one hand, I don't think it matters whether we're "feeling it." It's right to rejoice because God is, objectively and unchangingly, who He is, whether or not our broken affections can bear that, can rightly display it. As I learned from the Eucharistic prayers back in my Anglican days, "It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give thanks to you, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth." (Better yet: "It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee...")

On the other hand, if we are being increasingly "renewed in the whole man after the image of God," then I would think that includes our emotions, just like the rest of us. If we are truly being fitted for heaven -- growing by grace into the eternal worshipers we were created to be -- then does it make sense to say that, even though it will always be marred by sin in this life, the subjective side will increasingly come to match the "objective" joy of our worship? Even if not always in a warm and happy way, then in a deeper, more abiding way that makes much of God and less of ourselves? I don't know. But I find it fascinating to think of, and hopeful to trust that someday, my affect will be healed and whole and rightly oriented all of the time. 

I do hope to spend more time studying what Scripture says about worship and emotion (in whatever senses the Bible speaks of emotion, an intriguing question in itself). But what I've felt convicted of lately is not so much that my disposition in worship is joyless, but that it's slothful: I don't make study of God's Word a priority, and in practice, I don't think that preparing my heart for worship is all that necessary. If I'm honest, I don't believe that we really have to keep the Sabbath holy nowadays. I love the Reformed theology of the sacraments with its emphasis on preparation for receiving the Lord's Supper -- but the truth is that I don't love it enough, because if I did, I would follow it. It seems the change my heart needs is even more fundamental than I'd realized.

I don't think my blog is necessarily the place to continue working all of this out. Except to say that I'm thankful for the gracious work of the Holy Spirit, who teaches us how to rejoice and how to worship, all for God's own glory.

Book Review: The Envy of Eve by Melissa B. Kruger

A few weeks ago, Christian Focus Publications provided me with a copy of Melissa B. Kruger’s recent book, The Envy of Eve: Finding Contentment in a Covetous World, giving me the opportunity to participate in the book’s Blog Tour. I am grateful for the opportunity and excited to share this excellent book with readers of A Wonderful Providence.

            Melissa Kruger serves as Women’s Ministry Coordinator at Uptown Church (PCA) in Charlotte, North Carolina. Her book emerged from years of daily Bible study and prayer stretching back to her teen years, and as I read the book, it was easy to believe that her insights are the fruit of many years spent steeped in the Word. The book also contains plenty of helpful quotations from Reformed confessions and Puritan authors; it was refreshing to read an author who has been formed by the best of her tradition and writes in conversation with it.

            The nucleus for The Envy of Eve was Kruger’s recognition that gaining desired objects or goals did not lead to contentment in her life—an experience she found echoed in the life of woman after woman she talked with. While she found plenty of material written about the sin of idolatry, she observed that little has been written about the covetous desires that lead to idolatry—or about the unbelief that lies at the heart of covetousness. The goal of her book is to help women put off covetous patterns in their lives and put on the contentment that can only be found in Christ.

            The first part of the book, chapters 1–4, explores the nature of coveting. Kruger is careful to explain that greatly desiring something is not the same as coveting. Biblically, coveting is “an inordinate or culpable desire to possess, often that which belongs to another” (24). It is a sin pattern of the heart, not a set of outward circumstances. In fact, the root of coveting is unbelief in God’s goodness and sovereignty: “Essentially, our coveting accuses God of a failure to reign well over the events in our lives” (56). Coveting also reveals false beliefs about our purpose—true fulfillment is only found in relationship with our heavenly Father, not through our marriage, children, possessions, or job. Drawing on the examples of Eve in the garden and Achan in the book of Joshua, Kruger outlines the pattern of coveting she finds reflected in many biblical texts—the one who covets sees (the desired object), covets (seeing becomes mixed with unbelief), takes (from others and from God), and hides (often barring one from enjoying God’s gifts or one's relationships with others). But once this sinful pattern is recognized in our own lives, what can be done? Kruger beautifully shows how the cross of Christ gives power over the sin of coveting. The pattern is not broken by willpower alone. It is only overcome when we cultivate hunger for the pattern-breaker Himself. By His power living in us, we put on a new pattern of belief to replace the sinful pattern of unbelief: we learn to seek the Lord, desire rightly, give generously, and confess freely.

            The second half of the book (chapters 5–9) examines five areas in which women often struggle with covetous desires, including money and possessions, romantic relationships, and giftedness and abilities. Each chapter is grounded on a biblical example and gives practical counsel on how to replace covetous patterns with pursuit of the Lord. I found each of them to be wise, relatable, humbling, and encouraging. However, I’d like to focus on two chapters in particular that touched me deeply and which I hope will encourage you to pick up Kruger’s book for yourself.

            In Chapter 7, “Coveting within Family and Friendship,” Kruger focuses on relational coveting, which can arise when we wrongly try to have our needs met and our identities secured through relationships with family, friends, or mentors instead of through Christ. She points out that women can so easily observe relationships around them (something made easier through media like Facebook) and believe that others are experiencing fullness of life while her own relationships are mired in frustration (182)—“Many women are a bit of an Anne Shirley, waiting and longing for a kindred spirit to come into her life and fill her relationally.” I confess that in many ways, this has been the story of my life! While there is nothing wrong with longing for the gift of intimate friendship, the desire can turn idolatrous when it fosters discontentment, bitterness, and covetousness. In addition, this “comparison game” is based on an incomplete picture of others’ relationships and is preoccupied with what we can gain from others instead of how we can serve them. It fails to account for the effects of the Fall on every human relationship, and the fact that relationship with the Lord alone—finding satisfaction in Him and entrusting all of our other relationships to His provision—can truly fulfill. “[A woman seeking Christ] is secure enough in her relationship with Christ that she does not cling to the friendship, but rather treasures the friend.” (192)

            Drawing on the story of the Israelites’ sojourn in the desert, Chapter 8, “Coveting Seasons and Circumstances,” focuses on coveting life-stages different from our own. This, too, resonated painfully with me, as I have daily envied stages other than my own grad-student circumstances, imagining that if only I can get what I want, I will find abiding joy and purpose. Kruger counsels, “Whenever we are in a particular season [singleness, childlessness, motherhood, etc.], it is always easy to see the benefits of another woman’s season of life, while failing to consider or remember the struggles…Our coveting in this area demonstrates how firmly we believe in the promises of this world” rather than in the promises of God, who ordains every season in our lives toward the end of making us more like His Son (206–207). Again, it is presumptuous to assume that we see the full story of what God is weaving together in any person’s life. “When we covet in these circumstantial events, we are trusting in our own definition of goodness, rather than entrusting our lives to Him who works all things for our good.” (208–209) When we covet in this way, we also tend to isolate ourselves from friendship with women in other seasons of life, or to view them as means of measuring God’s goodness to us instead of learning to love them well. Contentment only comes when we believe and rest in God’s providential control of every circumstance.

            The goal of The Envy of Eve is not simply to reveal the sin in our hearts, but above all to recognize our overwhelming need for Jesus Christ. Only by cultivating a deeper affection for Him will we be able to let go of the vain promises of the world. The wonderful achievement of Kruger’s book is that it truly makes one hunger for time spent in Scripture, drinking deeply of God’s promises. I genuinely looked forward to starting each chapter because, while Kruger pulls no punches and drew me to repentance many times, she never left me wallowing in guilt: I was repeatedly pointed to the victory of the Cross and reminded that pursuit of Christ alone will transform my affections and bring contentment.

          For that reason, I happily recommend this book to my sisters in Christ. I believe you will find it both humbling and deeply hopeful. I thank the Lord for the gifts He has given Melissa Kruger, and I am grateful for Melissa’s willingness to use them to build up the Church.

Edited to add: Check out my friend Coralie's review of the book by clicking here!

Spring Semester 2012: Check!

For those who haven't heard, I wanted to officially post that, as of May 14, I completed my last semester of regular coursework. In the past few days, I also received word that I passed both my Greek and comprehensive exams, meaning that I was able to get through everything I'd aimed to accomplish this semester in order to be free and clear to pursue dissertation work. I am very relieved. I'm also thankful for the loving support of my husband, family, friends, and academic colleagues, without whom I'm sure I couldn't have done it.

Right now, I'm having a break for a couple of weeks. In June, I'll start transitioning into research mode. It will look a bit different from anything I've done so far because it will be more self-structured. I think I need to expect some trial and error in figuring out how I work best without someone else handing me a syllabus. (I mean, subtracting the two years in Berkeley, I have been taking classes for twenty-two years of my life!) But I'm generally looking forward to it, and my goal for the summer is to complete a draft of my dissertation proposal so that I can, I hope, get my topic formally approved in the fall.

This is the stage I've worked toward for many years, so it's really pretty exciting. My school is essentially saying, "You no longer need to pass exams or attend seminars or write papers to prove that you're capable of scholarly work." I can tell you that I have my own doubts, but I've really no choice but to take their word for it! I also know that, for all that the past four semesters has been a trial by fire (it has honestly felt like a series of hazing rituals at times!), the next step, of writing my own book, is going to be even more daunting in some ways.

But I'm very glad to be here, and again, I'm thankful to everyone who has helped make it possible for me to pursue this work, including praying me through this especially difficult semester. I love and appreciate each of you very much!