Discipleship
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By In Church, Culture, Discipleship

Jesus: The Blessed Man, An Introduction to Masculinity and Family Life

Guest Post Series by Rev. Rich Lusk

Introduction

If we want to know what it means to be a blessed man, perhaps we need to start with manhood itself.a What does it mean to be a man? How are men different from women? How does a man’s masculinity feed into his duties/roles as a husband and father? What shape should a man’s rule over his home and in the world take?

Masculinity (like femininity) is notoriously difficult to define. Masculinity includes maleness, but is something more; it is possible for one to be male but fail to be adequately masculine. Certainly we could give a biological definition, and what we learn about male (and female) nature that way is crucial, but we obviously want more than that. Some have defined manhood in terms of the 3 B’s: the billfold (provision), the ballfield (strength, competency), and the bedroom (his sexual relationship with his wife and the children who come from that). Others have focused on the 4 P’s: provision (man as breadwinner), protection (man as spiritual and physical guardian), procreation (one flesh with his wife, father to his children), and passion (interests leading to competency/dominion in various areas). Others have given more technical definitions: “Masculinity is the glad assumption of sacrificial responsibility.” Or more elaborately: “Masculinity is the presence of distinctive traits and drives especially found in men, including dominance, leadership, emotional self-control, aggression, and competitiveness, all used sacrificially for the good of others.” Still other definitions connect masculinity with certain forms of rule and authority, or with dominion over the earth since man was made from the earth and is oriented towards working/transforming it, or with the potentiality of fatherhood.

Biblically, several features of manhood stand out. Certainly, men are to be protectors and providers, warriors and workers, the muscle and the money. We see this in Genesis 3 where the man fails to protect his wife and the garden from the serpent and is then cursed in the realm of provision because that is his primary domain/responsibility. Manhood is also obviously connected with fatherhood. This capacity for fatherhood (whether realized or not) is the thing that most distinguishes the man from the woman (just as her capacity for motherhood distinguishes her from him). Obviously, fatherhood derives from and is to be patterned after divine fatherhood (Ephesians 3).

Scripture gives several depictions of idealized manhood. Psalm 1 and especially 112 could be understood in this light. Noah, Job, and Daniel are given as models of masculine faithfulness. David’s exhortation to Solomon to “Be a man” suggests a cluster of virtues and practices, such as courage, persistence, strength, leadership, diplomacy, grit, humility, dominion/competence, and so forth, are all crucial to masculinity. We could say the same about Paul’s exhortation to manliness in 1 Corinthians 16: he wants the men of the Corinthian church to lead the way in acting boldly so the church can function as a counter-cultural community.

The qualifications for church officers (who obviously must be men) in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1 can certainly be viewed descriptions of the “model man.” If you take all these qualifications together, you find that Scripture calls men to an ambitious mix of mature faithfulness and wisdom, combining boldness and bravery with humility and gentleness. The biblical man is a Renaissance man of sorts — a man who knows how to read a book with a depth and who knows how to engage in a fight with skill; a man who knows how to be tough, how to be gentle, and when to be which. It is interesting to compare these conceptions of manhood to those found in other cultures and religions. There are many features of masculinity that are virtually universal, such as honor, courage, strength, and leadership.

The OT expects battlefield prowess of men and praises them for it every bit as the literature of classical antiquity. It does not carry the same expectation of women; indeed, men who flee from the battlefield are regarded as acting like women (Jer. 50:37). There are consistent hints in Scripture of a division of labor between the sexes (e.g., the sexually differentiated curses in Gen. 3; Prov. 31:23, 27; 1 Sam. 8:11-14; Titus 2:3ff; etc.). In virtually every culture or civilization that we know anything about, men have been the primary rulers and stewards over public life and have been regarded as heads of their households, while women were the primary nurturers of children and managers of the home. But this does not mean that pagans and Christians actually agree on masculinity. In paganism, a man would boast in his own strength as he built his house for his own glory. Not so the godly man. Only in biblical religion can humility actually be a virtue for men. The godly man knows that whatever strength he has is a gift and whatever he accomplishes is really due to the Lord working in and through him. Biblical masculinity is masculinity by faith.

Part 2 will be published tomorrow.

Rich Lusk is an American author, minister, and theologian. His book Paedofaith: A Primer on the Mystery of Infant Salvation and a Handbook for Covenant Parents is a book-length discussion of Christian infant faith. He is currently the pastor of Trinity Presbyterian Church in Birmingham, Alabama as well as a co-author of a recent commentary on Ruth published by Athanasius Press.

  1. I recently preached a sermon based on the “family psalms,” Psalm 127 and Psalm 128. Video of the sermon is available here  (the sermon starts about the 17 minute mark) and audio is available here.  (back)

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By In Discipleship, Family and Children, Men

Letters To Young Men: Respect

Young Man,

Let’s explore the issue of respect, particularly the man’s need for respect in a relationship with his girlfriend or wife. As many Christian pastors and writers have noticed in the Scriptures, Paul’s exhortations for husbands and wives vary in Ephesians according to the needs of men and the needs of women (see Eph 5.22-33). When Paul tells the husband to love his wife, he describes that love with two words: nourish and cherish. These words carry with them the basic needs of the woman from the man about which I have already written: masculine provision and protection. When a man nourishes and cherishes his wife, that’s how he loves her, and that is how she knows he loves her. However, when Paul gives directives to the wives, they are to submit to their husbands, respecting them (Eph 5.22-24, 33). This is how she loves her husband: putting herself under his mission and respecting him. A man knows that he is loved by his wife (or girlfriend) if she respects him, which is demonstrated in how she responds to participating in his mission (of which I have written to you previously).

The need to be respected by your wife or future wife is not egotistically superficial. Respect is not a game she plays with you in order to “stroke your ego.” If a woman feels the need to fake respect–stroke your ego–then she doesn’t truly respect you. She believes that she is superior to you. This will be indicated in how she talks about you to other women and/or how she presents herself before others (especially with other men present). A woman that doesn’t truly respect her man will tell her girlfriends how she has to stroke your ego and about how she manipulates you to get what she wants. A woman who doesn’t respect her man will not defer to him in public settings; she will put herself forward, talk over him, contradict him, or simply embarrass him by the way she acts before or talks to men.

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By In Discipleship, Theology

The Vineyard

In Luke 20 Jesus tells the story of Israel in a parable concerning a vineyard in which the lord of the vineyard has hired tenants to tend and guard his vineyard. The lord of the vineyard created this vineyard to enjoy the wine that would be produced. The tenants were expected to cultivate this vineyard so that the lord of the vineyard might have what he wished. Jesus goes on to tell how the tenants were rebellious, beating and killing the many servants the lord sent to them. Finally, he sent his only son. The tenants believed this was their opportunity to seize the inheritance for themselves, consuming the vineyard’s produce completely upon themselves. They kill the son and cast him out of the vineyard. This, as I said, is the story of Israel killing the prophets and eventually Jesus himself.

There is much on which to focus in this parable, but the underlying imagery of the parable is intriguing. A vineyard. Why a vineyard? How does the imagery of a vineyard reflect God’s relationship with his people? How does the imagery of a vineyard tell us what God expects of us?

The imagery itself is common in Scripture when speaking about Israel. In Psalm 80 we sing that Israel is a vine that has been delivered out of Egypt and planted in the land God promised. In a song closely associated with Jesus’ parable, Isaiah relates Yahweh’s condemnation of Israel with the imagery of a vineyard (Isa 5.1-7). God’s people are to be a vineyard. The purpose of a vineyard is to produce grapes that can be crushed, turned into wine, and consumed. Wine induces joy (Ps 104.15) and rest. It can also cause one to become drunk and stagger to his own destruction (Jer 25.15; Rev 14.10; 16.19). Whatever the result of the wine might be–blessing or curse–what lies at the bottom of the imagery is that wine is consumable. 

Vineyards are meant to produce in order to be consumed. So it is with the lives of God’s people. We are created to produce fruit to be consumed by others: God himself, our fellow Christians, and the world around us. The question is then, “What sort of fruit are we producing?” 

In the song of Isaiah (Isa 5.1-7), God found only wild grapes that weren’t beneficial in any way. Israel had not fulfilled her purpose. She was created in order to bring joy and rest to the world for those who saw her faithfulness and followed it and condemnation to those who refused to follow it. But her unfaithfulness did neither. Consequently, God tore up his vineyard. God still expects consumable fruit from his people. Paul tells us in Galatians 5.22-23 what this fruit is: “… the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control….” This is the fruit that we are to be producing that is to be consumed by those around us.

How do we know if we are producing these fruits? Is it a matter of my personal evaluation of my life? Not really. You can tell what people are eating by the consequences. In the same way, you can tell what people are consuming from your life by the consequences in your relationships. Are people encouraged in your presence? Is your presence joy-inducing? Or do good folks dread to see you coming, knowing that you are going to have a list of all that has gone wrong throughout your whole life, and you’re willing to share with anyone who asks, “How are you doing?” Are your friends, spouse, and/or children at rest in your presence, able to laugh and relax, or does your presence produce tension? How do the unrighteous respond to your presence? For those longing for life, are they able to consume your presence and find that life? Are those who are in open rebellion against God repulsed by your presence? Our lives are created to be and are consumed by others around us. What kind of diet are we providing?

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By In Culture, Discipleship, Politics, Theology

Authorized

What if your pastor and elders mandated that every person attending worship must wear a toga? They have concluded that this will be good for the spiritual health of the church by promoting unity among the members as well as warding off evil spirits and those who aren’t serious about worshiping Jesus. After you finished laughing because you thought it was a joke, realizing that your church leadership was serious, you would rightly question whether or not the command was legitimate. Do they really have the authority to do that? If they insisted they did, quoting Hebrews 13.17, then you would probably leave because you realized that this was outside of the boundaries of what they can require. And you would be right.

The same is true with civil governments, a reality that has smacked us in the face in 2020. Governors and local officials have been issuing mandates that tell us what we must wear, how we shop, with how many people we can gather, and in what manner we may or may not worship.  While there are questions concerning the effectiveness and consistency of the enforcement of these mandates, there is a more fundamental question that underlies everything: do they have Constitutional authority to make and enforce these mandates under penalty of law? Being a Constitutional Republic means that this is the issue that goes beyond masks and mass gatherings. The law of our land is (theoretically) king, not the officials. They are elected to protect our Constitutional liberties and are subject to them as well. They cannot make laws that contradict the Constitution (again, theoretically). When they try, it is appropriate to call them on it through the means provided to us.

(As a side note, if you are quick to question and challenge your church authorities but not so quick to question and challenge your civil authorities, that should be a troubling revelation about yourself.)

Israel faced something of a Constitutional crisis, you might say, when Jesus rode into Jerusalem, was proclaimed king by the crowds, and then proceeded to take over the Temple. Can he do that? What right does he have to do that? Those are not improper questions. However, if you ask those questions, you had better be ready for answers that might not be so comfortable to accept.

The present leadership in Israel likes the way things are, and they don’t want to be challenged. They are the ones who will do the questioning, thank you very much. Jesus has upset their political applecart. But they can’t just lynch Jesus. They must put him on trial and find him guilty, putting him to death under the authority of the law.

But of what can they accuse him? In Luke 20.1-8 we find their first attempts to discover legal reasons, the authority, to accuse Jesus. They ask him by what authority he is doing these things (that is, all those actions he took at the temple). If they discover that he doesn’t have the proper authority, they can condemn him for not being properly authorized. He could be condemned as one who is impersonating a king and, thus, rebelling against proper authority.

As Jesus does throughout Luke 20, he turns the tables on his inquisitors here. Jesus will answer their question if they answer his. Jesus isn’t afraid to answer their question. Recently, he bravely stopped the center of the life of Jerusalem in the Temple. That was quite the public display; hardly the actions of someone who would be afraid of answering, “In what authority are you doing these things?”

No, Jesus is leading them somewhere without ever answering their question directly when he asks, “The baptism of John: was it from heaven or from men?” The only reason the officials seemed stumped is that no answer was expedient for their present power. They can’t say that his baptism was from heaven because they didn’t follow him. That would put them as rebels against heaven. They can’t say it was from men because they feared the people who believed John to be a prophet. The people would turn against them. So, they don’t answer the question. Neither will Jesus answer their question … at least not directly.

John was a priest and prophet in Israel. His father, Zechariah, was serving his priestly duty in the Temple when he learned about the promise of John’s conception and birth (Lk 1). Being in the priestly line of Israel makes John a priest. He is a servant in God’s house, authorized to baptize. Being a prophet also meant that John was authorized to anoint kings as Samuel and Elisha did before him. When John baptized Jesus, Jesus was lawfully being anointed as king of Israel. The Father and Spirit witnessed to this when the heavens tore open and the Father said, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased,” and the Spirit descended upon Jesus like a dove. John’s baptism was from heaven. Since it was from heaven, Jesus is their king. Since Jesus is their king, he has the authority to do what he is doing.

Jesus was baptized with a baptism from heaven. Were you? Who authorized your baptism? Does its authority rest in men or in God? Since our baptism is a baptism into Christ (Rom 6.1ff.) and in it we put on Christ (Gal 3.27), the baptism that Jesus receives is the baptism that we receive. We participate in his baptism. Our baptism is authorized by heaven. This means, at least, that our baptism means what God says it means and is not dependent upon our “authorization” through feeling or even what we think it means.

When we are baptized into the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, that baptism comes from heaven and says about us that we have authority; authority to be called “sons of God.” Being baptized means that we have been authorized by heaven to be God’s representatives in the world. When we speak, we speak for heaven. When we act, we act on behalf of heaven. All of our words and deeds are done as those who have been baptized. When the world comes to test us like they did Jesus, seeking to find fault with us, we must be careful to speak with the authority of heaven, saying what God would say about the matters. When our cultural leaders say, “How can you be so intolerant of this sexual lifestyle,” or “How can you be so narrow in your views to think that the Christian faith is the only way,” we must speak as those under authority and authorized to speak only what God has commissioned us to say. We condemn only what God condemns. We commend only what God commends. When we do so, we do so with the full weight of the authority of heaven. When we commend what God condemns or vice versa, we have stepped outside of what we have been authorized to say and are misrepresenting God himself. Let us then be careful in our words and deeds to reflect faithfully God’s own attitudes and actions.

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By In Counseling/Piety, Discipleship, Men, Wisdom

Letters To Young Men: Frame

Young Men,

It has been a little while since my last letter. Some other projects needed attention.

In dealing with issues of masculinity, I have written to you concerning the state of masculinity in our culture, the man and his mission, as well as how to develop your mission. This letter fits hand-in-glove with the previous two. It is inseparable and, indeed, integral to your mission: frame. It is impossible to complete your mission without frame, and it is impossible to have frame and not have a mission. Frame is a concept used in the field of psychology. The manosphere men didn’t invent it, but they have fruitfully explored it in how it relates to masculinity and, more specifically, intersexual dynamics.

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By In Counseling/Piety, Discipleship, Theology, Worship

The Temple of the Lord

From a distance, it must have been an awe-inspiring sight. There, sitting atop a mountain was a magnificent work of architectural art. Jutting up above the walls and drawing the eye to itself sat the Temple in Jerusalem. On a mountain peak outside the city looking in, one could see this marvelous structure, buzzing with human activity, and, if the wind was just right, one could smell the aromas of meat grilling on the altar. The beauty of the Temple told the onlookers and worshipers that this was the place where one came to meet the God of Israel and to be a part of his people. This is where one went to meet God and sit and have a communion meal with him, finding life.

During Jesus’ day, the Temple had become an architectural deception. Though everything about it screamed “LIFE,” it had become nothing more than an elaborate tomb, filled with rotting flesh and the stench of death. There was nothing there to satisfy the soul. This happened over the years of neglect and rebellion. Certainly, no one intended for it to turn out this way in the beginning. It probably started slowly and crept like a slow-moving cancer through the years until the time when Jesus came and gave the diagnosis and pronounced it dead (Lk 19.45-48).

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By In Discipleship, Men, Theology

The Glory of Men

The book of Proverbs speaks about many different types of men. There is the wise man and the foolish man, the righteous man and the wicked man, the prudent man and the lazy man. It’s possible for a man to cross these divisions at different times in life, for wisdom issues a public call to everyone to heed her voice. But in a few places, Proverbs highlights a distinction that obtains in the normal course of life, one that goes beyond character or circumstances. The consideration of the young man and the old man is one such passage.

“The glory of young men is their strength, and the splendor of old men is their gray head.” (Proverbs 20:29)

Here Proverbs is dealing with something more than attitudes, dispositions, or actions: The physical attributes of strength and gray hair. There is a peculiar glory which attaches to man, as man, in different stages of his life. To be sure, part of man’s glory has to do with the soul and virtue. But part of man’s glory is also connected with the body and time.

Scripture not only acknowledges but celebrates a defining characteristic of young men: Strength. Most naturally, the verse in Proverbs refers to physical strength. It is not presented as an alien attribute discordant with man’s true nature. It is fitting and glorious for young men to be strong. This truth is echoed in other places in Scripture (1 John 2:14, 1 Cor. 16:13) and finds parallel witness in nature.

If this is the case, it follows that it is fitting and glorious for men to use and develop their strength. Physical strength can only be revealed in action and thus its purpose is more functional than ornamental (though an aesthetic aspect is not out of the question here). Furthermore, while genetics and hormones play a role in male maturation, strength still needs to be developed. It’s possible to be a weak young man. So strength as the glory of young men is both a given and a potency—it can be increased or diminished, and it must be maintained through discipline.

Physical strength is good and glorious, but it does not last forever, nor is it the only mark of a man. Youth eventually fades, and so does strength—especially once a man’s head grows hoary (1 Pet. 1:24). Yet this is not the end of man’s splendor. Viewing a man’s life from a wider angle allows us to see degrees of glory emerge. There is a time and season for everything. As a man becomes old, he does well to continue to cultivate his strength, but his distinctive glory does not lie in strength.

In Scripture, the gray-headed man is honorable (Lev. 19:32, Prov. 16:31). Gray hair can imply wisdom or gravitas, but more basically it indicates long life and thus the riches of experience. It is a good thing for a man to live long, to testify of the Lord’s faithfulness, and to see his offspring (Psa. 37:25, 128:6). As a man ages, the center of his glory rises from the body to the head. Young man is like a king, going from strength to strength. His influence and power tend more toward the physical. Old man is like a prophet, his influence and power center on his word and wisdom. And from one standpoint, this movement from strength to gray hair is a maturation, a transition to a better state (Ecc. 7:8, 9:16).

Given this reality, a young man should leverage his strength where it is most useful and fruitful: building and defending. He should also look forward to the transition to old age and consider what kind of elder he will grow to become. It is glorious to be young and strong, but a man’s destiny is not simply to flame out in his youth and expect old age to be a period of dreadful futility, where one is “shorter of breath and one day closer to death” (to quote Pink Floyd). Likewise, an old man should not pine for the days of his youth but embrace the glory of the aged and take his seat as judge, counselor, and prophet.

Young men, your strength is your glory. Old men, your gray hair is your glory. Despise not God’s gifts, but render thanks to Him, who gives power and strength and wisdom to all, and has made everything beautiful in its time.

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By In Discipleship, History, Theology, Wisdom

Jesus Is NOT Coming Soon!

When I was growing up, the churches I attended heavily emphasized the imminent return of Jesus. We even sang the song, “Jesus is coming soon / morning or night or noon / many will meet their doom / trumpets will sound / all of the dead shall rise / righteous meet in the skies / going where no one dies / heavenward bound.” Jesus could come at any time and rapture all of Christians out of here. Seven years of tribulation would start after this followed by Jesus returning to finish off the world and establish his millennial kingdom. We developed ways of thinking about how it would happen and when it would happen.

Everything in the news pointed to this imminent return of Jesus. The development of the European Common Market, the Illuminati, the Russian Bear coming from the north, China’s one million (or was it two million?) foot soldiers, a computer called “The Beast,” threats of computer chips in the right hand and forehead to buy and sell, Henry Kissinger’s name somehow adding up to 666, Israel becoming a nation again in 1948, the red heifer being bred in Jerusalem, talk of rebuilding the temple, and even unseasonably warm or cold weather (because you don’t know the times or seasons). Hal Lindsey wrote The Late Great Planet Earth in the ’70s. There were eighty-eight reasons why Jesus was coming in 1988. When that didn’t happen, the Gulf War in the early ’90s was a sure sign. I was working in a Christian bookstore during seminary in the early ’90s at the time and Armageddon, Oil, and the Middle East Crisis by John Walvoord was selling like hotcakes. (You can get it pretty cheap now!) There were movies such as A Thief in the Night and A Distant Thunder that dramatized the rapture and after-effects used to scare teenagers into a decision. The Left Behind series by Tim LaHaye is where I started losing touch with that part of the American Christian world, though I’m certain it remains alive and well. (They must be having a field day with 2020!)

The disciples had their own version of this when they were nearing Jerusalem in Luke 19. This is it. All the signs point to the kingdom of God coming immediately, which means that the old order is done away with and David’s victorious son is enthroned in Jerusalem. All of that would happen, but just not the way they envisioned it. Jesus had to instruct his disciples in the fact that he was not coming soon, at least not in the way that they were thinking.

To instruct his disciples in the time and manner in which the kingdom comes, Jesus tells a parable about a nobleman, ten servants, and ten minas (that’s money not little fish). (Lk 19.11-27) The nobleman (who is, no doubt, Jesus) goes away to receive a kingdom. He entrusts each of his ten servants with a mina apiece and expects them to do business and make a profit while he is gone. He will come back and evaluate what they have done, expecting that they have been faithful stewards, having made him a profit. Consequently, he must give them time to do what he expects them to do.

Jesus is working with a deep theme that begins with man’s creation and runs through all of history. The theme goes something like this: God creates and establishes his people, gives them commands and responsibilities, leaves them to do what he says, and eventually returns to evaluate their work, dispensing rewards and punishments. This is a pattern established before the fall. God created Adam, placed him in the Garden with specific commands (work and guard the Garden, don’t eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil), gave him help to complete his task, left, and eventually returned to evaluate what Adam did.

This is what God does with Israel over its history. Israel is created at Sinai, given commands and responsibilities, he leaves them to do what he says, and eventually, he comes to visit them in the Person of Christ Jesus to evaluate their work, dispensing rewards and punishments.

Jesus says that this is the pattern that he will continue to follow with his church. Jesus creates the church through his death, resurrection, ascension (the time he receives the kingdom; cf. Dan 7.9-14), and the pouring out of his Spirit at Pentecost. He gives gifts to the church through the Spirit. While he is gone, seated at the right hand of the Father, he expects the church to “make a profit,” investing the gifts he has given to see them multiply. What started with small gifts in the first century must be multiplied until all of the nations are discipled. (Mt 28.19) Jesus will come back when the time for this mission is completed, and each of us will stand before the judgment seat of Christ to give an account of the deeds done in our body, whether good or evil. (2Cor 5.10) Each of us will give an account for the stewardship Jesus entrusted to him/her.

This is typified every week in our worship-work pattern. On the Day of the Lord, the Lord’s Day, we gather in the presence of our King to be re-created through worship, instructed, and supplied with what we need to go out and do the work we have been called to do. As images of God, we are to go out and be productive, taking what the Lord has given us and making more out of it. But the Lord’s Day is also a day of judgment, an evaluation of the work we have done the past week; works that we are presenting to him through tithes and offerings, which include the bread and wine of the Supper. Jesus evaluates our works dispensing praise as well as rebuke.

These weekly patterns are microcosms of history, reminding us that we have responsibilities to be faithful stewards of what our Lord has put in our hands. One day these weekly judgments will give way to the final judgment. Our desire should be to hear on that day, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” 

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By In Discipleship

How to Rebel by Opening a Door

I don’t seek out to provoke unbelievers, but when I do, I am strategic about it. Sometimes they show up in your front door in the form of tweets or juicy media statements cooked rare just like I like it. But this one came right at a time I was seeking to instill some manly and godly habits to my boys. In short, it was a beautiful thing.

I was about to walk into the bank when unprovoked (unprovoked!) I did that chauvinistic thing of opening the door for the young lady coming behind me. What was an act of simple compliance to southern social norms became an act of rebellion against the human being behind me. And these were her exact words: “You don’t need to open the door for me. I can do it myself.” Fair enough. Now, for the record, I do have some sense about the capabilities of sentient beings to use force to open and close things. So, I thought quickly and acknowledged that brute fact. But I couldn’t simply remain silent and allow that philosophical world to run over me like a Jonny Cash train-song.

I told her with all the gentility I could muster: “Ma’am (as a way of emphasizing my patriarchal fanaticism), I opened the door to express my respect for women.” It sounded as weirdly sophisticated as it is written. She looked at me and gave me some variation of a millennial “boo” sign. This entire incident would have been forgotten, except that a fine outstanding citizen with a significant following opined recently that, “Men opening doors for women is a symbol of aggressive patriarchy. Men are saying, ‘You may enter or leave this place but only on my say so.’” She goes on to say that when men open doors, they are subconsciously reminding women that all men are in control of a woman’s choice.

Now, I must confess that thought never entered my mind, but thanks to this fine person, now it has. It also reminded me that the topsy-turvy nature of male-female relationship stems from a fundamental failure to grasp our roles. Men protect, which does not mean women do not protect, but that men have an intrinsic sense that the weaker vessel must be protected. He operates under the assumption that he is to be in the front lines taking the bullet before his wife, sister, or daughter. But the habits that lead men to that fine point of taking bullets and ideological arrows don’t begin in the war lines, it begins at a bank door when you habituate yourself in the art of door-opening for women. Subconsciously, what you are doing is inculcating the idea that men lead by little rituals of grace at home and at the bank.

My suspicion is that when women react to virtuous etiquette in such a vicious way they are reacting to some form of past abuse. But the answer is not to cater to their past, but to lead them to a future green pasture when the normal becomes the expected. Men don’t change cultures by abdicating to the wants of the anti-mannerism party, but they form parties of virtue that embody rituals of every variety. And that is precisely what separates men from boys.

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By In Discipleship, Family and Children

Curbs and Spurs

Chapter 2: Identity

by Brian G. Daigle

“To hear you [Lord] speaking about oneself is to know oneself.” 
– Augustine (Conf. X.iii.3)

It has been said that our culture is having an identity crisis, and that our children have likewise internalized and have come to reflect this identity crisis. Some have called this an existential crisis, a deep confusion of one’s being and the meaning thereof. The marks of this national identity crisis are said to be seen in the present sexual revolution, the racial unrest afoot, and the widening political divides. Other symptoms, especially in our children, are said to include the opioid crisis and the suicide rates among those under eighteen years of age. Since the new millennium, America has seen a financial crisis, a healthcare crisis, and a higher education crisis. Some say we are now in a political crisis.

Whatever the case may be, we appear to be a nation prone to crises, or we are prone to the label of crisis. And we appear to be in a crisis whenever our ideas reach their extremes, or perhaps sometimes their logical conclusions. Are we a nation of unity or diversity? Are we people of balance or extremes? Are we a country of laws or freedom? Whether we say there is a crisis about us today is one thing, a topic which I do not intend to entertain here, for determining a crisis is a matter of definition and degree. But one thing is abundantly clear: identity is one of the leading ideas, and leading terms, being tossed around in both explanation and justification for what we are seeing politically, academically, theologically, and almost every other way in America. We may not have yet reached “crisis” pitch, but the overt melody of identity cannot be mistaken. Schools, churches, businesses, and political parties are all making many decisions each day concerning identity. Identity is one of those million dollar words in the 21st century. Therefore, identity needs to be one of the first ideas we rightly consider when it comes to how to raise our children in the 21st century.

A defining characteristic of identity crises is the confusion between two choices. On one hand, the man in the predicament sees he is to do his daily work, say his prayers, and love his family. On the other hand, he wants to follow his passions, step out from underneath the divine shadow, and cut the cord of his familial responsibilities. How clear and bright are these paths before him? Who is he? How does he decide between the two? How emotionally and mentally wrought must he become until he is in a crisis?

One of the other important things to realize in an identity crisis, or in identity confusion, is the all-too-present false dichotomy presented to the mind of the individual. A false dichotomy is when two options are presented, often at odds with one another, when there are actually more than two options from which to choose, or when the two options are not separate at all. Examples of false dichotomies can be seen in the paragraph above: “Are we a nation of unity or diversity? Are we people of balance or extremes? Are we a country of laws or freedom?” We could even see these false dichotomies as a kind of false dilemma: “If I am for racial unity, then I am not acknowledging the great diversity in our country, but if I am for racial diversity, then I am not promoting peace in our community. I am either for diversity or unity. Therefore, I am either not acknowledging the great diversity in our country or I am not promoting peace in our community.” Or “If I do my daily work, then I will not feel free or happy when I’m with my family, and if I spend time with and lead my family, then I will not share the Gospel and pray as I ought. I either do my daily work or I spend time with and lead my family. Therefore, I will either not feel free or happy or I will not share the Gospel and pray as I ought.” Or to make it more secular, “If I am a woman and pursue a career, then I cannot have children but I will be independent and free. But if I am a stay-at-home mom, then I will be confined and unable to use my gifts. I will, then, either not have children or I will be confined and will waste my gifts.”  So what is a person to do? And how do parents think rightly on this issue of identity when it comes to our children?  

Besides the importance of working through the above issues with a logical mind, quite literally with the tools given to us in logic (for example, answering a logical dilemma), we must work through them with open eyes, seeing why these ideas are presented to us as dilemmas in the first place. Our time may be defined as an age where the center has not held. The revolutionary mindset of the past two centuries is still the predominant mindset of our broader society in the west, and this means our age has the spirit which leans constantly toward overthrow, toward revolt, toward rebellion. If we compare this with other societies, both past and present, and we identify many of the other ideas which are main actors in our present script (i.e. Liberty, Equality, and Individuality), we can see how something like identity has taken a lead role, and why dilemmas concerning identity are all-too-common in nearly every institution and every part of the current society in which we are to raise our children. The reason why identity is such an important idea for 21st century parents to get right is because the deeper question of identity, the deeply human nature of identity, is already within our children; it is fundamental to who they become. Likewise, revolutionary times are deeply rooted in questions of identity, where there is a clear war for ideas, almost an overt self-awareness and skepticism with largely contrasting ideas, each idea leading to wholly different ends. And, finally, in our time, identity is a current and explicit tool used by many to confuse our children (and our parents), guiding them down darker paths.

As mentioned in the introductory chapter to this series, Chesterton said the modern world is full of old virtues gone mad. The old virtue which has gone mad, when it comes to individual identity, is personhood. Today, individual identity means who I am, despite the other. Personhood is who I am in relationship to the other. Therefore, the protection and remedy for our children, as we guide them on the path of recognizing, living into, and expressing their identity, is not about themselves, but about the other. That is, to correct any virtue gone mad, we must add to it the stabilizing presence of another virtue, like when an arborist places beside a crooked or weak tree the strength of a tethered and grounded stake to make the tree grow straight and tall. In this case, the added virtue we must instill in our children, if we wish for them to get identity right, is submission or selflessness or self-forgetfulness.

Two perspectives will help us get this right, two great influences on Christian thought (and really all western thought): St. Augustine and Solomon. A Solomonian view of the individual will take its cues from the book of Proverbs, where a father is teaching his son what it is to be a man. There are three characteristics of Solomon’s view of the individual that will be woven into this chapter: 1) our child’s well-being will be decided by his relationship to others, 2) our child’s well-being will be decided by his love of wisdom over folly, and 3) our child’s well-being will be established by the paradox of not caring so much for his individual well-being. An Augustinian view of the individual is likewise an important one to weave into our parental imagination. There are three characteristics we should adopt from Augustine concerning how we treat our child’s identity: 1) our child is made in the Trinitarian image of God, and therefore their being is constituted by relationality, 2) the location of a person’s self-identity is primarily his memory, and 3) the objective word by God upon our child’s identity is the most operative. These six principles are the curbs and spurs for good parenting on identity. Only in the bonds of that objectivity can the subjectivity of their individuality truly be free and rightly expressed, in such a way as to promote their well-being.

The Other

One of the marked philosophical blessings of Scripture is that it presents to us time and again the foolishness of our flat thinking and the sacred reversal of something like a paradox. It presents to us wisdom we did not expect, wisdom that appears strange, almost contradictory, to what we would have thought. This is the turning point for identity. The wisdom needed to teach our children who they are and whose they are is a deep paradox.

The conventional wisdom on identity tells us that one must simply find themselves, forget others, the voice of the others, dig deeply into themselves, decide for themselves who they are and who they want to be. But this is not Christ. Indeed, this egoism may be traced in the history of ideas, but it will not find any forefathers in the history of Christian thought, and it will find no support in Christ and the apostles. It will not find any basis in Holy Scripture. Fixing an identity crisis is, paradoxically, not about the individual. Fixing an identity crisis is about that sure and objective and immovable other to which the individual must fix his being.

Solomon states early in Proverbs, that “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge,” (Prov. 1:7) and “My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: for they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck.” (Prov. 1:8-9).  

At the beginning of Confessions, Augustine is recalling his childhood and his earliest memories. He states,

“So ‘I acknowledge you, Lord of heaven and earth’ (Matt. 11:25), articulating my praise to you for my beginnings of my infancy which I do not recall. You have also given mankind the capacity to understand oneself by analogy with others, and to believe much about oneself on the authority of weak women. Even at that time I had existence and life, and already at the last stage of my infant speechlessness I was searching out signs by which I made my thoughts known to others. Where can a living being such as an infant come from if not from you, God? Or can anyone become the cause of his own making? Or is there any channel through which being and life can be drawn into us other than what you make us, Lord? In you it is not one thing to be and another to live: the supreme degree of being and the supreme being of life are on and the same thing. You are being in a supreme degree and are immutable.” (Conf. I.vi.10)

Consider further that we, and every decent parent, want our child’s perspective, understanding, and decisions concerning their identity to lead to happiness. In order for this to happen, that perspective, understanding, and decision-making must relate to an objective other. And this objective other is not merely a spouse or friend or romantic partner or television personality. This objective other is the Lord God, more specifically poured out in wisdom. Hear Augustine in Confessions:  

“Is not the happy life that which all desire, which indeed no one fails to desire?…The desire for happiness is not in myself alone or in a few friends, but is found in everybody…Even if one person pursues it in one way, and another in a different way, yet there is one goal which all are striving to attain, namely to experience joy.”

“The happy life is joy based on truth. This is joy grounded in you, O God, who are the truth, ‘my illumination, the salvation of my face, my God’ (Ps. 26:1; 41:12). This happy life everyone desires; joy in the truth everyone wants.”

“There is a delight which is given not to the wicked (Isa. 48:22), but to those who worship you for no reward save the joy that you yourself are to them. That is the authentic happy life, to set one’s joy on you, grounded in you and caused by you. That is the real thing, and there is no other. Those who think that the happy life is found elsewhere, pursue another joy and not the true one. Nevertheless their will remains drawn towards some image of the true joy.”

And hear Solomon:

“Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand; and in her left hand riches and honour.Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: and happy is every one that retaineth her.” (Prov. 3:13-18)

A child, therefore, must live in a constant state of reminder (that is, educated), both explicitly and intuitively, that he is a creature, whose Lord is God, whose reality is Trinitarian, that he is a child, whose parents are present and active, that he has relationships and responsibilities, that there are objective standards to which his imagination of individuality must conform and that those standards must be obeyed subjectively, with wisdom and virtue. To state it plainly, a child must find their identity in their relationality and responsibility, ultimately to God, and not further inside themselves. Here is the blessed paradox: if we want our child to find themselves, they must lose themselves. If we turn our children inward to find their identity, they will collapse.

To Whom Do You Belong?

Given then what has been said, the most important identity question a parent must get right in their own mind, and in their explicit instruction of the child, is, “To whom does my child belong?” Consider for a moment the implications, even subtly in one’s imagination, if the answer to this question is one way and not another. What would my parenting decisions look like—the child’s education, dietary habits, discipline, bedtime, vocabulary, behavior, etc.—if I believed that my child belonged to the state? Or if I believed they belonged to my parents? Or solely to me? Or solely to themselves? Or to a future romantic love? Or to fate? Or to some strange mixture of all the above? The latter is what I often find in my dealing with parents, even Christian parents. There is a real disintegration in many parents’ minds when it comes to answering the question “To whom does my child belong?” This is not only a practical problem, it is philosophical and theological problem, and it exists for many reasons. But the primary reason this exists is because Christians have adopted a low view of the Sacraments, which has come about by a low and shallow view of the Scriptures and Church history. We have, in other words, not believed God concerning his identity markers for his people, and we have even been reluctant in many Christian traditions to apply those markers faithfully to our children. And so it is not that we don’t give our children any sign, any covenantal marker. We instinctively know our children cannot live signless; and so, perhaps even with good intentions and biblical proof texts, we give our children signs and identity markers contrary to our Christian faith. We may even surround them with signs and identity markers of the world, and then we wonder why at eighteen they experience a spiritual identity crisis. This is why baptism is not just a matter of ritualism or good feelings, or the individual and subjective decision of the baptized. The objective reality of baptism must be understood rightly. But the details thereof are for another occasion. For purposes here, the point simply needs to be made.  

In Christ, there is no room for an identity crisis. With baptism in Christ, there is no need for wondering where the starting point is regarding my child’s identity. We must teach our children, implicitly and explicitly, that the starting point regarding their identity is not at all with them but with God, with their family, with their Christian community who enables them to remain faithful to their baptism, with the Lord’s Supper, as an ongoing recollection and restatement and re-conciliation of their baptism. We cannot begin to ask the big questions of our parenting, to solve the big problems, until we answer the most basic question, until we set the foundation aright: what is my child and to whom do they belong?

Our children will never know who or what they are until we are confident in who and what they are, until we can clearly answer the question “To whom does my child belong?” Without rooting our children in their identity in Christ, and without rooting our parents in the eternal and unchanging identity of our Triune God, our parenting will waffle between conventional ideas on children as well as how our parents raised us.

The Signs of the Bond

If our child’s identity, then, is inextricably bound to an other, how is it this bond is created, strengthened, and upheld?  To reiterate, our children will be surrounded by signs and symbols. This is inescapable. Even the absence of signs and symbols points us to something beyond itself. That is to say, a vacuum of signs and symbols is never a complete vacuum, or perhaps we can say that a vacuum is as educational as an abundance. Because identity is about relationality, and for human persons relationality plays out in a material world, in a world of bodies and imaginations, we then must realize as parents that the signs and symbols with which we surround our children, the art and words as well, will construct for them not just their identity but the deeper ways they go about asking questions about identity or solving problems regarding identity, and even how they help their peers and siblings with their own questions of identity.

If you look at the historical and more traditional liturgies around the baptismal rite, you should notice something important about the words. The words in the baptismal rite are words about relationality: child to God, child to neighbor, child to church, parent to child, Church to child, Church to God, parent to God, pastor to child, pastor to parents, pastor to Church, pastor to God. As the child grows, so will the need for strengthening these bonds, for re-minding the child of these others, reminding ourselves as parents of these others. The strength of one’s identity is about the strength of their memory regarding the other.  “Whose am I?” the child will ask. “Who are my people?” the child will wonder. “What’s up with all this?” the child will seek. “If I am confused, what is my starting point?” the child will want to know. These are not questions that just come during teenage rebellion. These are existential questions which nature pushes on the child from the earliest moments of self-awareness. These questions are relentless. And because the child will learn more from what we do and build than what we didactically teach, we then ought to be aware that it is not the moments of the explicit question and the explicit answer where an abiding identity is created for our children. It is the quiet and mundane and constant moments which teach our child whose they are and what it’s all about. We must, therefore, not wait until the child asks identity-type questions before we give answers. We must answer the child’s daily identity-type (and silent) questions by what we surround the child with, by the symbols and people and activities in which the child lives and moves and has his being.  

The Eastern Orthodox have a habit of putting icons in each room of the house. I have heard of fellow Anglicans who will put at least a cross in each room of the house, maybe also an historical work of Church art or some other such image or symbol of Christian culture. Despite my thoughts on some of the reasoning and motivations behind these practices, when it comes to identity, the practice is brilliant. Growing up in a Roman Catholic family, I can remember the haunting crucifix in nearly every room of the house (even at my grandparents’ house), especially in the bedrooms and family room. I can remember where they were located; I can remember the disruption they were to my selfish and boyish ambitions; I can remember the sense that no matter where I went or what I did, the reality of the cross was constant. Despite my artistic or theological or liturgical thoughts on the matter, the presence of that symbol mattered. It was instructional. We can say it was efficacious. We can go so far as it say it was sacramental.   

I often tell teachers at Christian schools, and any school really, that when you are not teaching, the walls are teaching. And when you are teaching, the walls are still teaching. That is, your classroom is just as much of an instructor and educator as you are, if not more so. So, you should create and decorate and organize your room, and what’s in the room, accordingly. If you are at a classical and Christian school, you should have a mature classical and Christian practice and philosophy of aesthetics and the spatial arts. The walls are great instructors of identity, even in our homes.

“What will make me happy?” the child thinks. The child looks on the eastward wall: “Christ!” the wall says.

“To whom do I belong?” the child considers. The child passes through the hallway, by a painting of a palm branch. “The King of Kings,” he remembers.

“Why do I have to do my stupid homework?” he grumbles. The child sees the Bible on the coffee table. “Sacred literature is real,” he sees.

“Why can’t I have what I want, when I want it?” he pries. The child sees his father whistling and loading the dishwasher. “Because good men serve joyfully,” he learns.

There is, therefore, some practical and logical conclusions here for parents. Liturgy, time, movements, and memory (story)! As Augustine states, “Memory preserves in distinct particulars and general categories all the perceptions which have penetrated, each by its own route of entry…There also I meet myself and recall what I am, what I have done, and when and where and how I was affected when I did it.” (Conf. X.viii.13-14) To be sure, this is not my Anglican bias coming through. This is indeed the valid conclusion of what has been said thus far. The child’s memory matters, as does their sense of time, place, and season, their sense of people and story. All of these build a sense of self. And the three most influential arenas for all these are the home, the church, and the school. The fourth would be the city. What have we been given in Church history, including Scripture, to deepen a child’s Godward memory, their Godward identity? Liturgy. Our child is homo sapien, but let us not forget they are also deeply homo liturgicus. Their identity will be shaped by a liturgy. The question is “Whose and to what end?”

How Should We Then Parent?

There are three great crossroads when it comes to our children’s identity in Christ, and the family is essential in all three of them: The child will learn, 1) “What do my parents teach me (in thought and deed) about the Sacraments?” 2) “What do my parents teach me about their identity?” 3) “And how do my parents educate me?”

As to the first, if we do not treat the signs and symbols of God with great gravity, we cannot expect our children to have their feet firmly planted; they will float away. If we neglect the identity-markers, the identity-reminders, and the identity-makers given to us by God, we cannot be surprised when our children have an identity crisis. If we do not give our children the image of God, we will teach them to find another portrait to imitate.

As to the second, mimesis (imitation) happens each day with our children, especially as they watch us to see who they are to become, as they see who we decide to become in our moments of joy, fear, frustration, sadness, gratitude, and confusion. Just as the laws of physics necessitate the downhill path of water, so the laws of nature necessitate the parentward path of a child’s identity. What do you praise in your child? What do you praise in yourself? What do you criticize in your child? What do you criticize in yourself? Each word, each action, is one brick on top of another, one mosaic tile beside another, until your child resembles what you’ve been building all along in yourself and in them.

As to the third, Voddie Baucham once said, “We cannot continue to send our children to Caesar for their education and be surprised when they come home as Romans.” Education is an identity issue long before it is academic or scholastic issue. Whatever schooling we choose for our children, we must realize that where we place our children for their schooling will be the loudest identity shapers in their lives, where their identity will be shaped more consistently than anywhere in their lives, for the most hours each week, by the most influential people you approve of shaping their identity. The crumbs gathered at youth group will not hold a candle to the banquet presented each and every day to your children at their school. What are you allowing them to be fed?  

But let us not get sideways, assuming a mechanical outcome so long as we parent rightly. The right identity for a person is a gift from God, because it is in the likeness of Christ, and that means we must be parents who pray for our children. We must work and pray. We must work in the above ways, and we must pray so that God would make those ways fruitful, in his timing, according to his good will.

Published the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost, 2020

Brian G. Daigle

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