Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts

Monday, December 18, 2017

Part 1: The Gentleman Lawyer

This is Part 1 of the 3-part series on the work of Thomas Shaffer, an American lawyer and writer on ethics.
There is a powerful scene at the end of a West Wing episode. The fictional President Jed Bartlett had spent almost the entire episode agonizing over whether to commute a prisoner’s death sentence. In the end, not wanting a political backlash, he let the prisoner go to his death despite the many pleas from his advisers.
Now, earlier in the episode, President Bartlett had a casual conversation with his old parish priest in which he requested to be called “Mr President” rather than by his first name. “It’s not ego,” he had said – but as president, he had to make tough decisions – “It's helpful in those situations not to think of yourself as the man but as the office.” Yet very pointedly, as the episode closes, and President Bartlett kneels in the Oval Office to make confession, the priest calls him simply, “Jed.” The point is that ultimately, he was accountable to his Maker for all of himself.
            This scene encapsulates on the highest level the schizophrenic selves our professional lives have become. We hold to one set of morals for our personal lives and another for our work lives. This observation is a centerpiece of the scholarship of Thomas L. Shaffer. [1] Shaffer, a lawyer and a Catholic, argues that the separation of legal ethics (in the form of codes and regulation) from personal ethics (which appeals to conscience and character) is undesirable.[2] We don’t need more principles or statements. We need stories. We need teachers. And ultimately, we need heroes – heroes that even better the likes of Jed Bartlett.
            In this series of blog posts, I will explore the major themes of Shaffer’s work. In this first post, I will discuss Shaffer’s idea of the gentleman-lawyer – one who makes no distinction between private and public morals. In the second post, I will discuss Shaffer’s model of the lawyer-client relationship. In the final post, I will discuss Shaffer’s idea of the servant lawyer.
            There was a time, Shaffer observes, when there was no separation between a lawyer’s conscience and regulation. In his native America, that was in the colonial days until the end of the Civil War. Lawyers were typically affluent, erudite and powerful. Theirs was a righteous and noble profession. Their ethics was the ethics of a gentleman. [3] These men carried the same set of morals in private as in public. Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird) typified the gentlemen’s ethic when he said, “I can’t live one way in town and another way in my home.”[4]
            And yet, for all his apparent integrity, Shaffer recognizes that the gentleman-lawyer is given to hubris – “I am my client’s conscience keeper”,[5] he would say. And for all his appeal to Scripture, the gentleman-lawyer is only nominally Christian. The Bible is a source book for legal philosophy but has little relevance to day-to-day moral behavior. Judge Sharswood speaks of the “high and pure morality that breathes from the Sermon on the Mount” but goes on to say that morality is of no use in a law office.[6] Further, a deeper idolatry was present – a worship of the American civil religion.[7] The gentleman-lawyer is above all a patriot, with a Jeffersonian sense of responsibility to his country.[8]
            With the rise of the robber barons in the late nineteenth century, lawyers found a way to separate their personal ethics from their professional duty.[9] According to Shaffer, lawyers in New York City developed the adversary ethic to justify working for these industrialists.[10] The adversary ethic says that lawyers should single-mindedly advocate for the interest of their client, and justice will result when all lawyers do the same for their respective clients.[11]
 Another factor that contributed to the separation of religious and professional life has to do with the positions of in middle-class families.[12] Increasingly, the world of commerce and professions were occupied by men while the moral education of children were left to the women. The result, Shaffer argues, was “feminine control of ... the critical years of moral formation for boys who would later become doctors and lawyers.” Home became a place of relative purity while the professional world became a place of relative callousness. This explains why morality became an increasingly private matter not useful to the professional world. Another lawyer, Joseph Allegretti, argues that code and regulation filled the void that religious wisdom used to occupy, resulting in a legalistic, rationalistic mindset that excludes questions of character and virtue.[13]
            The theological justification sometimes given for this separation of private, religious life and public, professional life is Luther’s doctrine of the two kingdoms.[14] Paul says in Romans 13:1:
“Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God.”
Luther argues that in the kingdom of law, civil authorities are instituted by God to keep peace and order. But in the kingdom of the Gospel, believers are not subject to the state but subject to God. Luther’s doctrine arose in his historical context, at a time when princes and popes were embroiled in political as well as theological battles. Luther’s doctrine means believers should obey civil authorities, just as Paul commanded. But Luther also taught that the kingdom of law is limited in its authority whereas the kingdom of Gospel is one of salvation. Even princes were subject to the kingdom of the Gospel in their hearts. And unlike medieval Christianity, Luther did not accept that the Beatitudes were “counsels of perfection” for nuns and monks, they were also commanded for ordinary working Christians.
The righteousness that Jesus teaches, a righteousness that exceeds even those of the Pharisees, is perhaps why many lawyers shy away from taking the Bible seriously in their professional lives. But Shaffer wisely does not prescribe legal ethics from the Bible. He eschews any codes made by associations he calls little more than pressure groups.
Shaffer advocates a better way, a way that maintains a person’s coherence and integrity – stories.[15] Fictional stories, he says, communicates morals to a community more quickly than biographies.[16] They describe the deeds of a hero, and heroes teach and inspire in a way principles or statements do not. After all, most of us were attracted to the profession by a hero, a compelling character who embodies for us the goodness of the profession. Shaffer says,
“I have claimed that lives are prior to principles. I do not appeal here to logic. The sort of story I’m talking about speaks to its reader directly, from life to life, without the mediation of concept or of explanation... We are formed by their stories in a way that is analogous to the way we are formed by the lives of people in our families.”[17]
John Yoder acknowledges the value of narratives in loosening up the rigidity of rules, but disputes that we can dispense with rules altogether.[18] In his view, once you know the rules, stories are powerful to heighten empathy, imagination and able to teach more effectively. But both are required.[19]
The gentlemen-lawyers of stories and film, like Atticus Finch, teach us by the coherence of their professional and personal lives. But the actual gentlemen-lawyers of history, by Shaffer’s own analysis, could not survive the abstraction of principles from the person. John Yoder justifiably retorts that “good stories about good people” are at best a corrective to the rule-based approach to ethics.[20] But that in itself is very valuable. Like Shaffer, a Catholic growing up in Protestant America, Christian lawyers stand somewhat outside of the fray and offer a powerful dissenting opinion that can save us from the cynicism and moral paralysis of the profession.


[1] This theme is present in two of his major books, Shaffer, Thomas L. Faith and the Professions. Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1987.and Shaffer, Thomas L. On Being a Christian and a Lawyer: Law for the Innocent.  Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1981. It is also explored in his journal articles Shaffer, Thomas L. "American Legal Ethics." Theology Today 59, no. 3 (2002): 369-83. and “The Christian Lawyer – an Oxymoron?” America 175, No. 16 (November 23 1996) 12-17
[2] Shaffer, “American Legal Ethics,” 370
[3] An overview of the history of the “gentleman-lawyer” and his subsequent demise is discussed in Shaffer, “American Legal Ethics”, 369-375 and in Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, Chapters 2 and 3
[4] Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 76
[5] The sentiment is attributed to Judge George Sharwsood, a nineteenth century judge of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court. Shaffer, “American Legal Ethics”, 374
[6] Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 40
[7] David Hoffman, the father of American legal ethics, set the federal constitution beside the Bible and referred to the lawyers he trained as “ministers at a holy altar”: Shaffer, “American Legal Ethics,” 374
[8] According to Shaffer, the gentleman-lawyer is typically a Jeffersonian Republican lawyer. They were neither secular nor biblical. The Bible was carefully included in what they did, but it didn’t mean anything that couldn’t have been based just as well on Jeffersonian American Civil Religion: Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 40; Shaffer, “American Legal Ethics”, 374-375, Shaffer, Thomas L. “Legal Ethics and the Good Client”, (1987) Scholarly Works Paper 645. http://scholarshiplaw.nd.edu/law_faculty_scholarship/645, 319-330, 320-321
[9] Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 72
[10] This claim is made in Shaffer, “Legal Ethics and the Good Client”, 323
[11] Shaffer, “Legal Ethics and the Good Client”, 323
[12] The argument is set out in Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 44-45
[13] Allegretti, Joseph. "Lawyers, Clients and Covenant: A Religious Perspective on Legal Practice and Ethics  ". Fordham Law review 66, no. 4 (1998): 1110-29, 1108.
[14] The theology of two-kingdoms and its relevance to the professions is set out in Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 78-92
[15] This is discussed in the opening chapter in Faith and the Professions (Chapter 1). An indication of Shaffer’s reliance on stories is seen in the extensive index of stories in his book. The index of literary characters run to nearly 5 pages and are found in novels including George Elliot’s Middlemarch, Anthony Trollope’s The Orley Farm and of course, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird.
[16] Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 22
[17] Shaffer, Faith and the Professions, 33
[18] John H. Yoder “The Scholarship of Thomas L. Shaffer: A Retrospective and Response” Journal of Law and Religion 10, no.2, 331-337 (1993-4) at 337
[19] Yoder, “The Scholarship of Shaffer”, 332
[20] Yoder, The Scholarship of Shaffer, 332

Sunday, March 30, 2014

City to City Conference (Women): a postlude Part 2

Kathy Keller is irreverent - not towards God, but towards what she calls "pious babble" - the religious jargon of the Christian sub-culture. She is funny, down to earth and, like her husband Tim, delivers hard-hitting truth with understatedness.

She speaks on suffering and the chosen text is Psalm 23, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want." Notice that it is the shepherd who leads the sheep. The shepherd who leads the sheep to green pastures is the same shepherd who leads it through the valley of the shadow of death. He sets up picnic, not by green pastures, but in the presence of its enemies. Probably the highlight of the entire conference came when Kathy recounted her counsellor's advice to her, "He is the good shepherd. You are His sheep. Just bleat!"

One choice quote from John Newton: "If we seem to get no good by attempting to draw near to Him, we may be sure we will get none by keeping away from Him.”

Kathy reminds us that in suffering we rejoice, not in the suffering, but in God who is there in the suffering. God is not immune to suffering.

But C.S. Lewis says "God whispers to us in our pleasures... shouts in our pain." The counterpoint is that prosperity poses a greater danger to our faith. The greatest test comes, she says, when there is no test at all. Can you then desire God just for Himself and not for what he can do? Proverbs 30:8-10 is instructive here, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise I may have too much and disown you and say, "Who is the LORD?" Or I may become poor and steal and so dishonour the name of my God."

Kathy says there comes a tipping point in a Christian's life when they trust so much in God's character that their faith is not called into question with every bump in life.  The best way to prepare for suffering is "practise, practise, practise" - borrowing from the joke about how you get to Carnegie Hall. Practise reading his Word, hearing His voice, and speaking His word back to him. Ramp up your prayer life, and bring your heart to him unedited.

This reminds me of something C. Michael Patton of Credo House said, "Having good theology [of suffering] is like exercise. It is preventative. You do exercise before you fall sick. When you are already sick, exercising then is not going to help/ be that much harder." (to the effect of).

I agree with the observation that there is such a "tipping point" in a Christian's life but there is no telling with oneself whether you have reached that point. I think of many saints who have struggled in their very last days with God's goodness. The Biblical warnings against apostasy will always apply to me and a fear of my propensity to wander is ever real. There is great assurance of faith but that assurance is always in Him, which is why Kathy is right - there is no secret to it, just practise, practise, practise.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

City to City Conference (Women): Flourishing Faith in Dangerous Places: A postlude Part 1

Today a few hundred women met at Angel Place Recital Hall for a girly chat. That’s right, I was very blessed to have attended the City-to-City Conference for Women with Kathy Keller as keynote speaker. I use the word “chat” intentionally because the subject and the tenor of our conversation was exactly that – intimate, personal, emotionally wrought. The guest speakers each spoke their personal life story – on work, on loss and suffering – their personal testimony was as much a part of the communicated message as well as the Bible teaching. So with hearts resonating with the sweet timber of Chelsea Moon’s voicings to the Lord, and under the warmly lit timber of this hall of refuge midst our city, we settled down to a program that consisted of:

- Bible talk on Romans 5 (Cathy Tucker)
- Work and faith (Kathryn Leary Alsdorf)
- The panel (on suffering)
- Suffering (and prosperity and comfort) (Kathy Keller)

Work and faith (Kathryn Leary Alsdorf)

I particularly wanted to jot down my thoughts Kathryn Leary Alsdorf’s talk (the second of the day) because her topic is one I have been thinking a lot about. What are the dangers of work, she asks. Her points were clearly set out:

Danger 1: We are incompetent or fruitless
Danger 2: The environment is hard
Danger 3: That it’s pointless
Danger 4: That it brings out our “ugly”

This seems to be a fairly comprehensive summary of the struggles of work. And the antidote to each of those dangers...

In response to danger 1: We can fail at our work. We don’t need to prove anything. Our failures do not define us. Therefore we are free to take much greater risks for Christ.

In response to danger 2: We should not be surprised if the work environment is hard because the world is broken. Our task is to go into that brokenness and to join in God’s work in redeeming it.

In response to danger 3: The gospel is the only and perfect antidote to meaninglessness. To be able to join in God’s work of redemption gives us meaning.
This is probably the one issue I struggled most with when I was in the paid workforce – not just the meaninglessness of the inconsequential task I’m made to slave away at 4am in the morning but the bigger task that my small task is connected with that is ultimately also meaningless. (Actually, I just realise that the situation reflects dangers 1, 2 and 3 all wrapped in one.) Kathryn said something quite applicable to me, which is that people often work to get something out of it for themselves – even if it is something as abstract and intangible as meaning – rather than enjoying the work itself.

Calling is something that is realised in retrospect. When you have lived each step of your life in faithfulness to God, you look back and realise that has been your calling. 

In response to danger 4, worship God. We are idol-making factories. If we are not worshipping God, we are worshiping something else. 

The gospel gives us a new story for work, a new vision for work, a new compass for work.

A new story for work. If we don’t know how the story ends, we don’t know how to interpret our present (e.g. missing Malaysian airline plane). But if we know how the story ends, then life is vastly different. And we do know how God’s story ends. That gives us hope, a confidence and assurance of our ending. She aptly used the example of her marriage at aged 58. She had no assurance she was going to get married but if she knew that she was going to get married at 58, that would make a difference to her earlier life wouldn’t it? 

 I like that she explains the bottom of the work issue as a story. Meaning is ephemeral; meaning demands answers. But story is the way God has revealed himself. It is a story that has been completed in Christ (and it’s a rollicking ride up till then) but it is a story that is continually being unfolded, retold, heard, loved, mined for its riches. So the story of work begins in Genesis 1, takes a dramatic turn for the worse in Genesis 3, and ends in Revelations 21.

A new vision for work
Kathryn says, let our imagination and creativity soar to see how we are part of God’s world.

A new compass for work
The difference the gospel makes to work is not just to make us more ethical. We need wisdom. In Matthew 11:28, Jesus says, "Come to me all you who are weary an burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon me and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Why then, isn't it easier? Kathryn challenges us to take off some of the burden of the task.

Flourishing faith is not grabbing the golden ring; it is not control; it is not escape. Flourishing faith is humble. Forgiving. Faithful. Joyful. Loving.
End of part 1.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Toronto

Ten years ago I didn't have any family in Toronto. Now I have two.

The first I gained through adoption, or more precisely “god-adoption”. Back in 2001, after I finished my exchange semester in Berkeley, I made a trip to Toronto to visit my childhood friend who had emigrated there with her family. Growing up, I had always loved spending time with her and her family. They were fun and generous people and threw the best sleepover parties. And her parents had an inexplicable fondness for me that one has for young people you've watched grow up, a fondness I can only describe as, parental.
This trip was no different. They drove me everywhere, encouraged us to go visit Quebec. One day, my childhood friend jokingly said, 'why don't you “kai” Susan?' (“Kai” is the Chinese word which means to 'make a godchild’ but it does not have religious connotations.) We laughed it off, but sure enough at our next meeting, they presented me with as gold necklace (a tradition) and asked my dad to grant permission. And so I became their “kai-daughter” or goddaughter. They take my children as their god-grandchildren. This year, when I was staying in Ohio for a month with my family, they drove six hours from Toronto just to see us.
The second family in Toronto I married into. Remember the boyfriend of the long-ago Canadian trip? As it happened, his grandmother and aunt live just a few minutes’ drive away from my godparents. I have since spent many happy weeks staying with my husbands’ aunt and grandmother, always with extended outings and meals with my godparents. Each time we go to Toronto, we are overwhelmed by the love and hospitality we receive from these two families.

When I reflect on the rich relationships I have in Toronto, I cannot but marvel at the providence of God in putting these two dear families in the same suburb so we can reach them. More than that, I see a parallel with my spiritual adoption into God's family. Perhaps you, like me, struggle to understand why someone who aren’t your biological family would choose to love you, for no other reason than that 'now, you are family.'
And God knows the hardness and the unloveliness of our hearts and still chose to love us. He loves us like He loves his own son. Loving us is a delight to him. Next time I doubt why on earth God should love me, I can take him at his word: because you are family.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Back to the future with Jesus


When a person becomes a Christian, we repent of our rebellion against God and accept Christ as our righteousness. From then on, we entrust our lives to Him – our present and our future.

But what about our past? Past events. People. Things that happened to us. Does Jesus lay claim to our past too? Do we have to surrender our past in order to follow him?

What I mean is this. It is not as if God is in the business of doing weird time warps and undoing history that has already occurred – thankfully He will never retract the historical fact of Jesus’ death and resurrection! So the question is less of a practical, and more of a philosophical one – what if our past, everything that has made us what we are today, were to unravel? Sure, we have all done things in the past we would rather forget; but there are also many things we cherish and celebrate. Do we have to give those up too? Would we still praise God?

To illustrate, consider the parable of the rich ruler. When asked, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’, Jesus answered “You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” The rich ruler walked away sad because he had great wealth.

Now imagine if Jesus had gone further, and said, “Not only do I ask you to give up your wealth, but I will erase from your former life everything that has contributed to what you are today.” What of it then?

Recently, I met someone who had lived through homelessness who challenged me deeply about what made me how I am. I thought to myself, what would I do if I were to be turned out onto the street tomorrow, homeless? I think I might manage to get to a Centrelink office and fill in a form. But my ability to do so is not because of some intrinsic virtue on my part. Something in my past, my upbringing, my education, has empowered me to do that. And so I am still hanging onto my own mental resources. I am still worshipping at the altar of the great “I” instead of the great “I Am”! We forget how much of what we are today, is owed to our past. Everyone is indebted for better or worse, to their past.

So I return again to the question: can you give up your past? What if you are not only required to give up a future life of comfort and ease but to give up the privileges of your past? What if you can no longer talk the way you do, think the way you do – and I’m not talking about being afflicted by some terrible disease or trauma in the future – what if you never had the opportunity in the first place? What if you are no longer you – Tommy from middle class Australia but born in the slums to illiterate parents who did not know the importance of reading to children or feeding them nutritious food? What if you were to lose your entire ancestry and heritage? Where is your identity then?

I finally conclude there is only one thing that reaches into our past far enough, past our parents, our grandparents, our ancestors, that is a sure foundation for who you are. Hear the words of St Paul,

“For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons thorough Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will. “ (Ephesians 1:4-5)

My answer: God's election. You could be born into any place, any era, any circumstance, but before you were conceived, before any iota of you came to be, you were predestined for adoption as God’s children.

It’s like this. In the movie “Back to the Future 2” (surely a retro film now) Michael J Fox had to travel back in time to make sure his mum got together with his dad so that he could exist. It’s a shaky thing to depend on, isn’t it, our parents getting together. Who our parents are. But our ultimate existence is not shaky if undergirding it is the sovereign creation and election by the Living God of the universe.

Have you ever known expectant couples and thought, ah yes, their child is going to grow up with much love and guidance, because of the values and the character of the parents – whether it’s a boy or girl, able-bodied or disabled, through the vagaries of life, their general trajectory and foundation is sure. Now imagine if your parent is God the Father. No wonder Paul is convinced that “neither death nor life, neither angels’ nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

This same friend I referred to before said, “My job is not my identity, my home is not my identity. Christ is my identity.”

Today I understood a little more of what that means. God’s grace grows a little bigger in my heart. Jesus’ claim over my past extends to more than just forgiveness of my sins. Everything I am I owe to Him alone and for that I must practise thankfulness. He is indeed my present, future and past, and all of it is to be redeemed for His glory.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Merry Christmas and happy birthday

Merry Christmas and happy birthday! A toast to those of you who, like me, share the great fortune and greater misfortune of being born on December 25th. A great fortune, I say, because your birthday will almost definitely fall on a public holiday. But a greater misfortune because everyone will be too busy celebrating Christmas to take any notice of you. You will probably get one “big” combined present instead of two. And I can’t tell you the untold damage my parents caused when they refused to hold a birthday party for me on the grounds that “nobody will come”. I have known fellow Christmas day babies who have selected another date as their birthday for the only purpose of, well, actually enjoying one.

As I sit here recalling my misspent birthdays, it occurs to me that this conflict is an apt allegory of my daily and lifelong battle with Jesus – for glory. My birthday is my special day. Far be it for me to have to share it with anyone, let alone someone who will take all the attention away from me! And so I am like the child who sulks and throws tantrums because of all the adulation he should be getting but ain’t.

It is easy to praise God. Words are cheap. It costs nothing to pay God lip service upon the podium of our self-declared victory. When we blithely say, “praise God”, how much of it is a secret rejoicing in ourselves? Perhaps congratulating ourselves on a decision wisely made? Boasting, not of God’s goodness, but our faithfulness?

The test comes when there is only place for one of you: who then will have pride of place? Will I happily take obscurity and lowliness so that God may be exalted? Jesus says that those who pray and give and fast to be praised by men have already received their reward in full; but those who do so in secret will be rewarded by the Father (Matthew 6). Surely, this is powerful motivation to labour in secret!

A birthday seems such a trifling thing to give away, and still, I struggle. It betrays a niggling desire to keep a little glory for myself, a desire that is perhaps in all of us but only made apparent when we are asked to relinquish it. Only then do we realize how deep our pride runs. How ME is imprinted in my every thought.

When I was little, growing up in a non-Christian family, I used to think (in the magic thinking way of little children) that I ought to be a Christian because I was born on Christmas Day. And in some strange, ironic way, I think that has become true. Because Jesus’ birth has brought me the promise of new birth; His life is credited as mine; his glory, also mine to boast of. So now each Christmas, I am chastened with the reminder that my life is indeed hid with Christ, that I must become lesser and He, greater, and that my utmost joy is for Him, not I, to have every and all the praise and adoration and glory He deserves.

Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Originally posted on our family website, February 2011

Dedicating Karsten

In the very early days after Karsten was born, my father-in-law was joking around with me, as he often does, analysing, complimenting, imaging the future Karsten, and offhandedly, he said “maybe he’ll become a missionary.”

My heart sank when I heard that. Here was my baby, weeks old, and I’ve waited months, in some way my whole life, to have him. How can I, right there and then, bear the thought of him leaving? How can you wish that upon a new parent? I admit I was a bit offended.

As the days and weeks and months passed, as I struggled to settle him to sleep, as his individuality became more and more apparent, I slowly realise that he isn’t, and will never be mine to own and govern. Maybe it grew out of exasperation at the thousand uncontrollable aspects of parenting. If nothing can be guaranteed at 8 months, how much less so at 18, 28, 38?

The only thing that is certain is that while I am fallible, there is someone who I can absolutely entrust my baby to – my Father in Heaven. And that is, first and last, a great relief.

All pressure to “make” your child believe falls away. I recently learnt that a friend’s daughter who is not yet four, has confessed that Jesus as her saviour. Hallelujah! I am happy for her and her godly parents. But then I started panicking that I have fewer than three and a half years before Karsten turns four and, would that be sufficient time for me to win him? Kirby pulled me right up - It is God, and God alone, who can save. Who am I to bend the will of a child into compliant assent? Pray for them! Testify to them! Love them! That is all a mother can do. Then I check myself again. “All”?! That is the most wonderful thing a mother can do!

If God is holding Karsten in the palm of His hand, if He is cradling him in the crook of his arm, where else has he to go? I will gladly have him serve the Lord all the days of his life. If God calls him to serve overseas, I could not be happier. It will hurt, but already I see that being a parent involves unspeakable joys and pain. People talk about "sacrificing" for God. Well as far as possessions go, your child is the dearest thing you can “give up”. That is, after all what God the Father experienced when He sent His only begotten Son into this world to save it from sin. How deep the Father’s love for us indeed!

Karsten was never to begin with, and will never be, mine to possess. But I hope he will be God’s everlasting possession. And this must be the calling of all Christian parents. Our children are given to us for a season to nurture, teach, cherish, enjoy, love, but may they never be bonded to us, but to Christ.

I hope and pray that Karsten grows up to love his parents. I love him oh so much. But I hope and pray that he loves Jesus more. I remember my mother-in-law saying once, “when he believes, that is your job done.” Is my calling as mother that simple?

I become more convinced when I think of Karsten’s conception, gestation and birth. No step, no detail had not been graced by the sovereign hand of God. Our obstetrician called Karsten a miracle baby. What a testimony Karsten will one day, God willing, come to understand and tell as his own! I pray that He who began a good work in us will carry it on to the day of completion.

Looking after an infant has been consuming and exhausting and I never had the time I imagined I would have to sit down and think through systematically the implications of dedication. But clarity suddenly emerged from the confusion tonight whilst I was doing the dishes. I want to dedicate Karsten to the Lord. I need to. I must. What else is there to do?

26 May 2010

Originally posted on our family website, July 2010

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Every eye shall see him

The guest on Margaret Throsby’s morning interview the other day was a psychologist by the name of Paul Ekman who specialises in the study of “micro-expressions”. The theory goes that the human face, far from being a mask behind which you can hide your true feelings, in fact reveals your deepest emotions, even if those expressions last only for a 1/25th second and are imperceptible to all save the rare few who can or have been trained to detect them.

So it is true again. The face is the person. And faces are the primary way we know each other.


Which brings me to my question: have you ever imagined what God looks like? In the Old Testament, the Israelites were forbidden from making images of God lest they idolize the image rather than the living God. But what of the monoliths in our mind? Should we curb our imagination too for fear it will lead us into sin?

Are we left, like the orphan Judy Abbott who catches a glimpse of the shadow of her parting benefactor – a long legged man – at the beginning of the novel and proceeds to write hundreds of letters to her beloved, “Daddy Long Legs”?


Not so, for we have much more. We know His name – LORD – not invented by man but declared by God himself. We know that, for a time, He took on flesh and became a human, specifically, a Jewish man in the first century. And we know his name, Jesus. We have His words. We know His face is no longer hidden from us in anger. And we know with certain hope that, though we see in part, then we shall see face to face.

So, when I close my eyes, clasp my hands, bow my head, and pray to Him, what do I see? Most of the time, it is a sea of black against my own self-conscious voice. But sometimes, not often enough, I imagine His countenance, benevolent and lovely, and majestic.


Who do you see?


 "And after my skin has been thus destroyed,
yet in my flesh I shall see God,
whom I shall see for myself,
and my eyes shall behold, and not another.”
Job 19:26-27a