Lessons from Hip Replacement

Two weeks ago, I had my right hip replaced. In some ways, this has been a long journey, as I have needed something like this for literally years. The cartilage wore out in my right hip, and it has been bone on bone for some time. I compensated by limping, hopping, dragging my right leg around, sitting whenever possible rather than the excruciating pain of standing. It had gotten so bad that I could not climb the stairs in our house without tremendous exertion. And yet, I refused to do anything about it.

On the other hand, this process feels to me to be a whirlwind. I finally succumbed to common sense and the urging of my peers and family and friends, and went to see a doctor in September. This led to seeing a physiatrist (like a Physical Therapist with an MD degree). And finally, I saw an orthopedic surgeon in early December. He recommended I have my right hip replaced, as it was the most painful and in the worst shape. So I was set up for four weeks of visits to a cardiologist (to see if my heart would allow me to endure surgery), a blood donation center (gave my own blood for my own surgery), the xray place, and numerous visits to my regular doctor. All during the hectic Christmas season.

I was nervous about surgery, as I dislike needles and blood, especially my own, at least my own outside my body, I really like my blood inside my body! I had not been in a hospital since I was 12 years old, when I had a hernia operation.

But the surgery was easy. The good folks at Huntington Memorial Hospital were very kind, and very good at their jobs. From the admitting nurse, to the nurse who prepped my for my IV line, to the anesthesiologist, to the surgeon, to the nurses and PA's who helped me in the days after the surgery. The surgery was easy in that my body was there, but I wasn't. I was put to sleep, and woke up a few hours later with a new titanium and ceramic hip. The recovery has been a breeze as well. Day to day, it has been a struggle. But Physical Therapy has really helped, and I have seen progress from week to week.

Early in my recovery, I lay on the couch or sat in the recliner and watched a ton of movies. I watched almost the entire "World at War" series from the mid-1970's. My mind was not focused enough to read and write much, as some of the pain medication was quite potent.

My wife, Beth, has been a real helper. She has tried to serve my needs, has driven me where I need to go, encouraged me to take my medicine and get some rest, and has put up with my belligerence in opposing all things that would dare imply any weakness on my part. My children, Mark and Rachel, have also been very attentive and kind. Rachel came back from school at SLO for the long MLK weekend, and Mark has been back from UCLA the last two weekends. Their love and encouragement has helped as well.

I have also been greatly blessed by my church community. Several people took the time to stop by and see my in the hospital, Rex and Rich and Kimo and Drew and Frank and Rich. Many more have mailed "get well" cards. And dozens of people have commented on my Facebook posts. Thank you!

I would not have gotten this far without the support and encouragement of the community. Self-care is not one of my strengths, and so I needed extra motivation, or nagging, to get me to do the right thing. The seeds of this surgery were planted by Janis Shannon, a dear saint and pastor's wife who kept pleading with me to do something, and kept on praying for me when I did not do anything. Many, many others have also added their weight to nudge me in the right direction.

So, one of the lessons I have learned, again, is the importance of community. I am an unworthy recipient of love and grace, but that's just the point. My worthiness has nothing to do with it. The community of the saints, my extended family, has come through for my own welfare. How long did my family and friends cringe as they watched my painfully hobble around? And they never seemed to lose hope that someday, something would click in my life and I would take care of this.

I will try and reflect on more lessons in the coming days, now that I am walking and my head is cleared of the pain medications.

Suffice it to say that I am deeply grateful to the love and support of my dear family and my church community, and to those who have extended a hand of comfort and blessing to me in the South Pasadena community. (That means people like you, Mr. Dinosaur Farm, lover of puppies!) I am deeply moved and humbled that you would take the time and make the effort. I am a fortunate man. And now, I can walk again!

[SDG - JS]

Moore on Gratitude

This is a blog post from Dr. Russell Moore, and I like it. Our level of gratitude is influenced by our present circumstances, and we need to protect our hearts from the adaptation. It is really good. Let us know what you think.

“If I hear the word ‘Daddy’ again, I’m going to scream!”

I heard myself saying those words. And, in my defense, it was loud around here. I was trying to work on something, and all I could hear were feet pounding down the stairs with four boys competing with one another to tell me one thing after another. I just wanted five minutes of silence.

My vocal chords were still vibrating when an image hit my brain. It was the picture of me, on my face, praying for children. The house was certainly quiet then. And in those years of infertility and miscarriage and seemingly unanswered prayers, I would have given anything to hear steps on that staircase. I feared I would never hear the word “Daddy,” ever, directed to me. Come to think of it, I even wrote a book about the Christian cry of “Abba, Father.”

And now I was annoyed. Why? It wasn’t that I’d changed my mind about the blessing of children. It was that my family had become “normal” to me. In the absence of children, the blessing was forefront on my mind. But in their presence, they’d become expected, part of what I expected from my day-to-day existence. And that’s what’s so dangerous.
Gratitude is spiritual warfare. I’m convinced my turn of imagination that day was conviction of sin, a personal uprooting of my own idolatry by the Spirit of Christ. What I need to fear most is what seems normal to me.

We’re all, in some way or other, in the same place the people of Israel were in in Joshua 23 and 24. Joshua, their warrior-leader, stands before them and recounts all the blessings God has given, reminding them that “not one word has failed of all the good things that the Lord God promised concerning you” (Josh. 23:14a). Joshua said, “All have come to pass for you; not one of them has failed” (Josh. 23:14b).

And yet, as Joshua foretold (and Moses before him), the people would soon be in the land of olive trees and wine presses. These things, what they’d cried for in the wilderness, would soon seem “normal” to them. And, soon enough, they’d crave more and more, so much so that they’d chase after Canaanite idols to get what they wanted.

This is what some philosophers call “hedonic adaptation.” We tend to adjust to the level of happiness or prosperity we have. We grow to expect it, to not even notice it. And then we want more. That’s why it’s so hard for people to come down in standard of living. It’s easy to move from a studio apartment to a two-story house, but it’s awful to do the reverse. Few people have a problem going from a 1985 Ford Fairmont to a brand new BMW, but it’s incomprehensible to go the other direction.

This is the way of all flesh, as it is pulled toward the abyss by the satanic powers. It is always so. The garden of Eden becomes mere vegetation for blinded humans in the beginning. The mountains and caves become mere covering for blinded humans in the end.
The Spirit of Christ draws us toward gratitude because the Spirit convicts us of our creatureliness. We’re dependent on breath, on bread, on love, and these things come, personally, as gifts from a Father (Jas. 1:17).

Is there anything in your life that you’ve grown accustomed to? Is there something you prayed for, fervently, in pleading in its absence that you haven’t prayed for, fervently, in thanksgiving in its presence? There’s several such things in my life, and, I fear, many more that I don’t even think about.

I’m typing this at the kitchen table. I was just interrupted by Moore boys wrestling for the last Little Debbie Cake in the pantry. As soon as I heard “Daddy,” I looked up, even in writing this article, in frustration. But the Spirit still crucifies, still resurrects.

Thank You.

The original article link is here.

[SDG-JS]

I hate to tell you: Phrases that announce ‘I’m lying‘

A very interesting post in the Boston Globe this week, about phrases we use in everyday conversation that operate contrary to their face value. Here are the opening three paragraphs of the article, followed by the link below.

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there’s a whole range of phrases that aren’t doing the jobs you think they’re doing.

In fact, “I hate to be the one to tell you this” (like its cousin, “I hate to say it”) is one of them. Think back: How many times have you seen barely suppressed glee in someone who — ostensibly — couldn’t be more reluctant to be the bearer of bad news? A lack of respect from someone who starts off “With all due respect”? A stunning dearth of comprehension from someone who prefaces their cluelessness with “I hear what you’re saying”? And has “I’m not a racist, but...” ever introduced an unbiased statement?

These contrary-to-fact phrases have been dubbed (by the Twitter user GrammarHulk and others) “but-heads,” because they’re at the head of the sentence, and usually followed by but. They’ve also been dubbed “false fronts,” “wishwashers,” and, less cutely, “lying qualifiers.”

The original article is here.

Read the whole thing. Which of these phrases do you use most often? [SDG-JS]

Guthrie on Sad People, Safe Churches

Another outstanding post from The Gospel Coalition. The interview is with Nancy Guthrie. She and her husband founded the Griefshare ministry out of their own grief. Her story is here, and well worth the read.

This struck me, I am sorry to say, when we first started our first Griefshare group last January. After a few sessions, a new member of the group surprised us by coming to our Sunday morning worship service. I was especially attentive that morning to the question, "What word of comfort and hope will she hear this morning? Will her pain be addressed?" To my surprise, and discomfort, the answer was "no". There was no acknowledgment in the entire service about the suffering of loss. No prayers that might have addressed this. No mention in the scripture reading. No hint during the sermon.

I am not sure that every worship service needs to address every human need and condition. Something I read a few months back suggested there is something quite shallow, and well, un-gospel-like to have only happy thoughts during a service of worship.

Here is Colin Hansen's interview with Nancy Guthrie. I'd love to hear what you think of it.

Why did you initially become interested in making churches a safe place for sad people?

Because I’ve been a sad person, and I know what it is to look to my church for companionship, practical help, prayer support, and theological clarity in the midst of overwhelming and perplexing sorrow. I remember attending a church choir retreat three months after burying my daughter and saying to the group, “I’m not sinking into depression. I haven’t lost my faith. I’m just sad, and I need you to let me be sad.” The truth is, most of us are uncomfortable with sadness, as individuals and as churches. We want to fix people and help them to feel better, and we are far less patient than God is with the process he uses to bring healing.

But making a church a safe place for sad people is about much more than providing personal and practical support. A social club can do that. The gospel is what provides the solid truth that grieving people need to inform their feelings and undergird their hope. For a church to be a safe place for sad people does not merely mean that we offer comfort and acceptance. Sometimes it means that we gently but boldly challenge misbeliefs or misunderstandings of Scripture.

Last week I was with a friend whose mother had died, and we were just beginning to talk about what people were telling her about her mother being right beside her, watching over her. As I was beginning to talk through what the Scriptures have to say about what happens after death, another woman who was there with us stopped me and proceeded to tell us about her experiences of seeing and hearing from her parents after their deaths, convinced that these visions were from God. People long for supernatural signs in regard to the deaths of their loved ones, and unfortunately they often endow those experiences with far more authority than they give to Scripture. A church that is a safe place for sad people will lovingly present the Scriptures as authoritative and sufficient, providing all we need to entrust our loved ones to God.

What’s the most helpful thing we can do for a fellow church member struggling through grief?

Grieving people have four primary needs that the church has a key role in addressing:

1. They have intense sadness that is lonely and lingering that needs to be respected.
2. They have significant questions that need to be addressed in light of Scripture.
3. They have broken relationships that need to be healed and normalized.
4. They have a deep desire to discover some meaning and purpose in their loss.

While we make room for people to be sad, we want to walk with people in expectation that God will indeed do a work of healing in their lives so that they do not stay stuck in their sadness, but emerge from it strengthened in their confidence in God, deepened in their understanding of the Scriptures, and equipped to serve others.

What are some common errors we make when trying to help someone going through a difficult time?

On a practical level, we say, “Just call me if I can help.” The truth is, when you’re going through a family crisis or grief, you don’t really want to have to keep asking for help or organize all of the help you need. To have someone assume the responsibility for organizing meals and other practical help is a great gift. Even better is the person figures out what is needed and simply says, “I’m coming over Wednesday morning to do your laundry.”

Sometimes we’re afraid of saying the wrong thing to someone who is hurting so we say nothing, adding to his or her hurt by ignoring it. Or we’re afraid that “bringing it up” will make the person sad, not realizing that our “bringing it up” actually allows that person to release some of the sadness they are already feeling.

On a spiritual level, I often hear Christian leaders or counselors say to the person who is grieving something like, “It’s okay to be angry with God. He can handle it.” I know they are trying to encourage authenticity before God and with other people, and that is worthwhile. But a church that is a safe place for sad people brings the truth to bear on the untruths and misunderstandings that serve as grounds for anger toward God rather than giving permission to hold on to or simply vent that anger.

Perhaps another mistake we make is assuming that people have grasped the sovereignty of God that has been preached from the pulpit. Often it is not until believers’ lives are shaken by circumstances or sorrow that they are finally ready to delve into deeper theological truths. As they are struggling to put together their understanding of a loving God with the God who allowed the accident or the illness, we have to be ready to talk through the implications of God’s sovereignty in very real terms. And usually it is not one conversation that settles this, but must be a series of conversations, giving time for these deep truths to settle in.

What is the uniqueness of a gospel-centered church in the way it ministers to people grieving a loss?

I don’t remember a lot of what my pastor said when we stood at my daughter’s graveside. But I remember him saying, “This is where we ask, ‘Is the gospel really true?’” And I remember whispering to myself in that moment, “Yes!”

While many of us are content to stay in the shallow end of the theological pool when things are going well, significant loss forces us into the deep end of the things of God, and that’s a good thing. This is where our understanding of God working out his plan to put an end to the brokenness of this world caused by sin moves from a religious discussion outside of us to become a gospel reality at work in us. We want to understand the bigger picture of God’s purposes in the world to make some sense of what has happened to us. The words we sing in worship have new meaning. Christ’s victory over death is more precious. Our future hope is more real. Gospel-rich teaching and preaching, counseling, and worship help to answer our questions and bring healing to our lives.

 [SDG-JS]

Anne Rice: Loves Christ but Not the Church

Another fine post by Collin Hansen on The Gospel Coalition today on the Anne Rice story circling the blogosphere.

Using today’s news medium of choice, novelist Anne Rice announced July 28 on Facebook that she has quit being a Christian. Rice, the famed author of Interview with a Vampire, says she still loves Christ. But it’s the rest of us she can’t stand.

I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being “Christian” or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to “belong” to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.

Once a “pessimistic atheist,” Rice famously resumed confessing and celebrating Mass in the Roman Catholic Church several years ago. The world learned of her change of heart in 2005 when Knopf announced they would publish Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt, Rice’s novel about the 7-year-old Jesus. Researching the book, she studied N. T. Wright, Augustine, John A. T. Robinson, D. A. Carson, and Craig Blomberg, among others.

Rice’s story was never tidy, however. Her son and fellow novelist is openly gay. Doubt remained over how she would regard the Roman Catholic Church’s teachings where she plainly disagreed. This week Rice removed all doubt.

In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.

Rice’s defense of “secular humanism” is particularly puzzling for someone who says she remains committed to Christ and argues for the historical validity of the Resurrection. Indeed, Rice says she continues to believe in an active, loving God.

My faith in Christ is central to my life. My conversion from a pessimistic atheist lost in a world I didn’t understand, to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me. But following Christ does not mean following His followers. Christ is infinitely more important than Christianity and always will be, no matter what Christianity is, has been, or might become.

So it seems Rice has joined the loud and growing chorus that sings, “I love Jesus, just not the church.” Yet when we read Scripture, we see that Jesus Christ loved the church. In fact, he gave himself up for her (Eph. 5:25). It’s not like Jesus loved us naively. He who was betrayed by one of his closest friends and abandoned by others during his time of greatest need surely understood human failings.

All true Christians belong together to the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:27), purchased by Jesus’ blood shed on the Cross. “There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all” (Eph. 4:4-6). Nobody who belongs to a local church will say that it’s always easy to love fellow Christians who have been justified and yet continue to sin. At the same time, no Christian who knows himself believes it’s always easy for others to love him, either. And yet we’ve been called to love one another according to the example of Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit. A maturing disciple of Christ learns to love when it’s hard and submit to the Word’s authority when we’re tempted to disagree.

 Well, we can condemn Rice's choice all we want, and bemoan her lack of maturity. It does seem to me that we can easily slip into thinking of the "ideal" church, you know the one, the one where we all agree, where we are all mature, where it is easy to love one another because we are so, um, lovable. Well, that is not the church. In the church, we are all redeemed sinners. But we are all in process towards maturity in Christ. Some are well on the way, some are barely out of the gate. To love Christ is to love those whom Christ loves.

I understand the deep disappointment Rice has with the church. But she also seems as if she has picked and chosen those things about the church she wants. We all have these issues to some degree or the other. But to follow Christ is to submit ourselves to His Lordship and discipline.

My prayers go out to Anne Rice and her family, as she wrestles with this decision. [SDG-JS]

Devaluing Dads, Discrediting the Father

Great post from Wednesday at The Gospel Coalition on the value of fathers. The secular trend is to argue that fathers are not necessary. So children raised by a single woman, or two women in a relationship, will not lose much of anything by not having a father around.

As the oldest son in a family marked by divorce, I can testify to the loss of not having a father around. Some have diagnosed this as a "father wound."

We dispense with fatherhood, a basic building block of family and society, at our peril.

So why all the momentum to undermine fathers? I wonder if our discomfort with the idea of human fatherhood is a sign of a problem deeper in our souls. Bible scholars say that God is a mysterious Trinity of three Persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In his sovereignty, God the Father runs the universe and has set in motion the only sure plan of redemption.

Maybe we devalue our earthly fathers because we are estranged from our heavenly one. We prefer to walk Buddhism’s Eightfold Path, obey Islam’s Five Pillars, or practice our own atheist morality than answer to a heavenly Father. We’d rather invent our own salvation than acknowledge his.

Maybe we evangelicals, who do a good job of emphasizing Jesus the Son, haven’t done as well talking about his Father and ours. It was Jesus, after all, who told us not only that the Father is holy and able to cast us into hell, but that he loves us and knows our every need even before we ask. Far from a ridiculous bumbler, this

Father combines wisdom, power, and grace.Are fathers necessary? Yes, on earth—and in heaven.

Read Guthrie’s whole column at Crosswalk.com.[SDG-JS]

Ecumenical Greetings from Father Siarhei Sardun

Here is the video clip from the General Assembly Business Session 7, which was introduced by Father Siarhei Sardun, from the Orthodox Church in Belarus. He was asked to bring greetings as an Ecumenical Advisory Delegate. He is introduced about a minute in. The fireworks begin about five minutes in. The whole clip is about eight minutes long.

I have been unable to find a transcription of his greeting. The following is a synopsis posted by The Discerning Deacon.

If you are unfamiliar with the currents in the Presbyterian Church, the introductory minute shows you a glimpse of the Clash of Cultures (and Christianities, Fr. Sardun encountered) The shorthand from Fr's speech:  I am from the Ancient Orthodox church, unchanged from 2,000 years.  We were nearly exterminated by the secular forces of the 20th Century, but are now resurgent.  The East is embracing Orthodoxy again.  We have had the financial help of the Presbyterian church in America, so I have come here to thank you since I have never encountered the Presbyterian Church before.  Now that I have encountered you, I find that you do not embrace the ancient faith.  You have changed the Nicene creed by adding the Filioque.  And another thing.  I was really struck by your discussion of Christian morality.  Christian morality is as old as the church itself.  It doesn't need to be invented now.  And those attempts to invent a new morality, look to me like attempts to invent a new religion.  A sort of modern paganism.  When people say they are led and guided by the Holy Spirit to do it, I wonder if it is the same Holy Spirit that inspired the Bible, the same Holy Spirit that inspires the Holy Orthodox Church not to change anything in Christian Doctrine and Moral Standards...

Sing it Brother!  It took some cast iron cojones to stand before the entire leadership of the Presbyterian Church and warn them of turning into pagans -- speaking Truth to Power.  This is what we are all called to do every day folks -- in large ways and small.  Pray that the Lord helps us find the courage to love him this much.

As you can see in the video, Father Sardun is extremely gracious, he is deeply thankful for the monetary support of the PC(USA) and its partnership. However, as a friend, he has some harsh things to say, but he does it graciously, don't you think?

The arguments over the inclusion of the Filioque clause in the Apostles' Creed have been going on since the sixth century. The following is from Wikipedia, the whole article is here.

Filioque, Latin for "and (from) the Son", was added in Western Christianity to the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, commonly referred to as the Nicene Creed. This creed, foundational to Christian belief since the 4th century, defines the three persons of the Trinity: the Father, the Son (Jesus Christ), and the Holy Spirit. In its original Greek form, the creed says that the Holy Spirit proceeds "from the Father". The Latin text speaks of the Holy Spirit as proceeding "from the Father and the Son".

Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum, et vivificantem: qui ex Patre Filioque procedit.

(And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, and giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son.)

The word Filioque was first added to the Creed at the Third Council of Toledo (589) and its inclusion spread later throughout the Frankish Empire.^[1] In the 9th century, Pope Leo III, while accepting, like his predecessor Pope Leo I, the doctrine, suppressed the singing of the Filioque in the Mass of the Roman rite.^[1] In 1014, however, inclusion of Filioque in the Creed was adopted in Rome.^[1] Since its denunciation by Photios I of Constantinople,^[1] it has been an ongoing source of conflict between the East and West, contributing to the East-West Schism of 1054 and proving an obstacle to attempts to reunify the two sides.^[2]

 If this were Father Sardun's only critique, it seems like a rather quaint revisit to ancient controversies. But he does not leave it there. He critiques quite forcefully the new moral standards, (I suppose he means the debates about homosexual marriage and ordination). He likens this approach to a creation of a new religion, a new "paganism".

Not satisfied with that, he goes deeper in critiquing the continual references to the Holy Spirit. Almost every prayer at the General Assembly, and rightly in my opinion, asked for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. And yet, Father Sardun points out, when the conclusion we come to differs from what Scripture clearly teaches, are we, in fact, listening to the same spirit?

On the one hand, this from a man who is proud that the Orthodox Church has not changed doctrinally for 2,000 years, so ANY deviation would be a large one. So one could chalk this up to hyperbole, or to our country brother visiting the big city for the first time.

But on the other hand, he has a point. The phrase bandies about at many Presbyterian meetings is "the Church Reformed, always Reforming."

There are several popular Latin mottos associated with the Protestant Reformation, one of which is “ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda.”  Translated into English this Latin phrase reads, “the church reformed and always reforming.”  This phrase first appeared in a 1674 devotional by Jodocus van Lodenstein, who was involved in the Dutch Second Reformation.  According to van Lodenstein and other reformers who used the phrase, the church was reformed under the Protestant Reformation, but it was always in need of further reformation, that is according to the Word of God.

Almost five hundred years after the Protestant Reformation began, this is certainly still true of the church today.  Consider two critical examples of how the church should always be reforming:

1.  Culture. 

The church needs to always be reforming because of the influence of the culture.  The culture is always changing (especially these days) and a danger the church faces is conforming to the culture in order to be relevant and popular.  To the degree that the church has conformed to the culture it needs to be reformed according to the Scripture.

2.  Tradition.

The church needs to always be reforming because of the influence of tradition.  One danger the church faces is for tradition to become more authoritative than Scripture and to do certain things because they’ve always been done a certain way.  To be sure certain traditions can be good, but they become harmful to the church when they conflict with biblical teaching.  Traditions must always be tested according to the Scriptures and if they fail the test, the church should be reformed.

A great Scriptural summary of “the church reformed and always reforming” is Romans 12:2, “And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.”

One of the things often lacking in the reforming debate is that phrase "secundum verbum Dei", or "according the the Word of God". Much of our current "reformation" seems to be following the culture rather than stemming from God's Word. [SDG-JS]