Ike and I are moving tomorrow.

Our new place is close by and it makes more sense financially, a thought that continually encourages me as I engage in one of the activities I hate most. I seriously hate moving! I understand why some people say that moving can be as traumatic as the death of a loved one. It is stressful!

One of the things that is most frustrating about moving is that you never realize how much STUFF you own until you have to pack it. We’re in that stage where we keep finding trinkets and knick-knacks that need to be packed away. Between vacation kitsch and stocking-stuffers, we have somehow accumulated a seemingly endless supply of tiny bowls and figurines. I really did not realize we owned this much.

Because of the madness that is our current apartment I don’t have time to write much today, but I thought I would share the one thought that keeps returning to my mind as we have sorted through our belongings:

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal,  but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.”

– Matthew 6:19-20

In the past, I have relegated these verses to the realm of the heart. As I understood it, I have the freedom to own what I want as long as I’m not too attached to it. As long as my true treasure is of a heavenly nature, I can still hold onto my earthly treasures as well. I can have my cake and eat it too, so to speak.

But as I survey my possessions and look at all the money they consumed and the space they now occupy, I can’t help but wonder if my previous interpretation is a bit of a cop-out. How we spend our money does say a lot about our hearts. What we own is an indication of our priorities.

I say this because the kind of prioritization that Jesus describes is one that requires discipline at multiple levels, not simply the level of the heart. This discipline is a holistic one that begins not with ownership but the decision to own. The more we gather, the more we shop, buy, and hoard, the more we tempt our hearts to latch onto earthly things. Knowing our hearts’ predisposition to materialism, and choosing to make that purchase anyway, is a spiritual statement of sorts.

Simplicity is a discipline that begins prior to the owning of possessions. It is a disposition towards God, a decision to guard our spiritual lives by guarding what comes into our lives. As I look upon the many possessions that fill space in my apartment and closet, useless items that occupy my life and my heart, it’s clear that I need to work on this discipline more.

That is not to say that possessions are inherently evil. They are not. I don’t believe in asceticism for its own sake. Even so, I have not exercised the kind of discipline that would guard my heart against the errant priorities of worldliness. I have not done a good job of putting practices and mindsets into place that would protect me from storing my greatest treasures on earth. In my apartment’s current state, I can see that plain as day.

Maybe the next time I move I’ll be able to report back differently. I really hope so! Til then, please pray for me tomorrow on our moving day. I need it!

One of my favorite shows on television right now is 30 Rock. Lately I’ve been catching up on old episodes on Netflix, and I recently watched a clip that I thought was both hilarious and thought-provoking.

In case you’ve never seen the show, it follows an SNL-like t.v. show created by head writer Liz Lemon, played by Tina Fey. Alec Baldwin plays Jack Donaghy, Liz’ boss and the head of NBC. Jack also serves as a mentor figure for Liz. In this particular episode, Jack looks for another employee to mentor because his fiancée is uncomfortable with his and Liz’s unusually close relationship.

As it turns out, Jack has a hard time replacing Liz. No one fits all the requirements he has for a pupil, and in one scene we learn why the junior execs in his company are especially unqualified. Jack finds none of them to be worthy of his mentorship, sighing, “There’s something wrong with this generation.”

No sooner does he finish his sentence than a young executive walks through the door with a fabio-esque haircut and his eyes fixed on his Blackberry. After shooting off an e-mail he looks up at Jack and casually declares,

“Sorry I’m late. BTdubs, I gotta leave for my ironic kickball league in about ten. Also, I’m not interested in this position unless I’m going to be constantly praised. And, I won’t cut my hair.”

I don’t know why that scene makes me laugh so hard! Probably because his self-absorption and self-entitlement rings a little true. While it’s clearly a caricature of the self-esteem movement’s fruits, it’s not that far off the mark. Social commentators don’t call my generation the “trophy kids” for nothing.

Much has been written about the cold reality facing entitled Millennials (born between 1980 and 2001) who enter the work force. Having been coddled and praised all the way through college, the real world is a real shock to them. Entitled people don’t make for good employees either. They don’t receive criticism well, they expect higher pay, flexible schedules, excess vacation time, and affirmation for fulfilling their most basic job requirements.

What I’ve begun to wonder, however, is what marriage will be like for this generation. Granted, not all Millennials are that sheltered, but for those who fit the bill I wonder what will happen when they say “I do?” Marriage, after all, isn’t necessarily great for self-esteem. God has used it to humble me mightily. And how will marriage square with a mentality that an academic dean at Stanford described as follows: “They really do seem to want everything, and I can’t decide if it’s an inability or an unwillingness to make trade-offs.” An unwillingness to make trade-offs? Trade-offs is the bread and butter of my marriage! This does not bode well.

As Americans get married later and later, we are only beginning to witness the interesting mix of matrimony with instant gratification and self-entitlement. For now, what we do know about the “Get a Trophy for Participating” Generation is enough to sober the next generation of parents. As we think about raising children who will be good spouses, and more importantly good Christians, we have to weigh the importance of self-esteem. It is not that self-love or success are bad things, but they are not ultimate things to which all other things must bow.

In a world as crazy and broken as ours, it’s easy to want to shelter our innocent children and keep them from being broken. That is part of a parent’s job. But as Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” Amid the self-esteem movement, how will we raise up disciples who are ready for this kind of call? I’m not sure the self-esteem movement is prepared to answer that question.

Hi friends. Today I have a message for you that probably isn’t new. You’ve likely heard it many times before. But if you’re like me you need to hear it again and again, which is why I am sharing this message once more. I hope it is what you need to hear today.

A lot of Christians serve in their churches, attend Bible studies, sing in the choir, or lead ministry events, all while a terrible thought looms deep in the back of their minds: “If they only knew.” The Christian call is a tall order, after all, so it’s no surprise that a lot of us feel like fakes. Everyone sees the church version of your faith and the Facebook version of your family, but no one sees you arguing with your spouse, struggling with addiction, fighting an eating disorder, or succumbing to doubt. As a result, many of us feel like we’re living a double life.

If that’s you, if you feel like a fake who has everyone fooled, if you struggle with the fear that if they only knew the real you, they wouldn’t let you serve in church or even darken the doors of the building, I have two thoughts for you.

First, you’re not alone. Scripture tells us that Satan is an accuser (Rev. 12:10). He makes it his mission to point out your faults and shame you with your mistakes. He will paralyze you with guilt and humiliation. And as a result, you will hide from one of the key resources God gives us for fighting temptation: the Christian community.

If you are struggling with the shame of hypocrisy, one of the first and most important steps you can take is to tell someone. Find someone you trust, someone who will speak truth and grace and forgiveness into your heart, and confess your sin. And do it often. It’s scary, to say the least, but it also unlocks the power of Satan’s accusations. He wants you to be paralyzed in isolation. He wants you to be cut off from spiritual resources and he wants you to despair. Don’t let him. Talk to your Christian friends, and hear about the mercy and love you have in Christ.

Second, your sins are already forgiven. How many of us live as if salvation is by grace, but sanctification is by works? It is an easy trap to fall into given how many testimonies are essentially spiritual “befores” and “afters.” We assume that life is only a mess before conversion, but after conversion everything is neat and tidy. Well it’s not…..at least, it hasn’t been for me. I don’t think it was for Paul either (Rom. 7:15-19). Which is why we must constantly remember that Christ died for the sins we already committed, and the sins we have yet to commit.

These two truths are important, not simply because they combat the suffocating shame that accompanies sin, but because they set us free to serve God. That’s what’s at stake in all of this. The ultimate problem with guilt is not its effects on your self-worth, though that is indeed a negative consequence. The ultimate problem with guilt is that it fixes your eyes on yourself, taking your focus off of God and off of neighbor. In short, shame prevents you from fulfilling the two greatest commandments.

That is why, as Hebrews 12:1 explains, sin so easily entangles. We not only get caught in the act of sin, but the shame of sin as well. So while it is important to cast off sin and pursue a holy life, it is also important to cast off guilt and shame. These partners in crime have no place in the Christian life, and until we free ourselves of the very things which Christ put to death on the cross, we will be unable to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

So if that’s you today, if you are wrestling with shame and guilt, confess that shame to a loving friend and cast off the guilt that has already been removed in Christ. Run the race marked out for you, and pursue God with abandon. Hear that truth today.

Did you know that Peter was married?

I’m sure I learned this fun fact at some point during seminary, but I had forgotten about it until this week when my pastor mentioned it. Peter’s wife doesn’t enjoy much remembrance because she doesn’t appear directly in Scripture. In fact, the only biblical reference to Peter’s marital status comes from Matthew 8:14–

When Jesus came into Peter’s house, he saw Peter’s mother-in-law lying in bed with a fever.

Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law, by the way, and it is probably because of miracles like this one that Peter’s wife became quite the committed disciple herself. We know this from an account written by Eusebius, a Roman historian born in the late 4th century who documented the growth of the early church.

According to Eusebius, Peter’s wife was martyred the same day that Peter was famously crucified upside down. In fact, Peter’s wife was executed first. What follows is the account of that day:

“They say, accordingly, that when the blessed Peter saw his own wife led out to die, he rejoiced because of her summons and her return home, and called to her very encouragingly and comfortingly, addressing her by name, and saying, ‘Oh thou, remember the Lord.’ Such was the marriage of the blessed, and their perfect disposition toward those dearest to them.”

Simply breath-taking.

As stunning as this story is, Peter’s wife was not the only woman to die a violent death for her faith. Several years ago I posted the story of Perpetua, a young Christian woman in the early church who refused to recant her faith, despite the pleas of her family. She then gave birth in prison before walking proudly to a gruesome end.

The women of the early church were lionesses. I have no doubt they were afraid, but they were able to face death with such courage and resolve because their eyes were fixed on their Father above, not the challenge before them.

That is an example I find both terribly inspiring as well as humbling. I am humbled into questioning my own commitment to Christ were I to be so tested. Yet I am also humbled by the comparatively low expectations we hold for women today. Perpetua and Peter’s wife appear so firm and unflinching, whereas Christian women in American appear so fragile. Much of women’s ministry is devoted to lifting women out of suffering, whereas Perpetua and Peter’s wife walked straight into it.

Granted, there are different types of suffering and God does not call us to pain for pain’s sake. Scripture contains both words of comfort and calls to take up one’s cross and die. While suffering is a guarantee, there are certainly times when healing and protection are powerful marks of the Kingdom of God in our lives.

But perhaps we have wandered off the path that leads a recovered soldier back into battle. This wouldn’t be surprising given the degree to which women are treated like porcelain dolls, damsels in distress to be rescued by their princes. Husbands are protectors and women are, too often, the wounded in need of saving.

Where, in all of this, is the kind of marriage we see between Peter and his wife? What does it mean for a husband to send his wife valiantly to execution while declaring, “Remember the Lord!” Protector, he was not. Proud co-laborer for Christ, he was.

Consider also the example of Perpetua, a mother who would rather die than recant her faith and protect her child. Do we even have language for that understanding of motherhood and family?

The stories of women like Perpetua and Peter’s wife challenge us to question how much of our beliefs and practices are actually Biblical, or merely a reinforcing of our own romantic ideals. Are we using God to deliver us from suffering and give us the life we want,  or are we depending on God to run the race hard and fight the good fight? At the heart of all these questions lies a core question about priorities: What is your life ultimately about? You serving God, or God serving you?

When I read about Perpetua and Peter’s wife, I become convinced that we expect too little of Christian women today. Women are stronger than we give them credit for, and I make that statement not on the basis of natural human power but on the God we serve. Women belong to a God who possesses an infinite supply of courage and might, and on that basis we are a force to be reckoned with. I think it’s time to raise the bar.

This summer I’ve had the real pleasure of leading a book club at my church in which we are reading Shauna Niequist’s Bittersweet. Each session, I kick off the evening with a little bit of teaching before the women are dismissed into smaller discussion groups. During our last meeting, we focused on the “bitter” part of “bittersweet,” reflecting on the Christian response to suffering. This week we lightened things up a bit and turned to the “sweet,” discussing how to be purposeful in our faith when life is good.

After delivering my lesson on the sweet seasons of life, I realized there was a particular concept I have never written about here. It concerns the necessity of using the sweet, peaceful, joyful or restful times in life as opportunities for spiritual preparation. I won’t share the whole of my talk now, but there is one nugget that I believe to be especially important. So here it is!…

When dealing with hardship or catastrophe in life, many Christians take a triage approach. We handle obstacles as they come, in order of urgency, and rarely take the time to plan ahead. Of course, this approach is not limited to spiritual matters. Our present economic situation is evidence of that same mentality. In the years prior to the Great Recession, we enjoyed great financial prosperity in which Americans were free to make risky investments without much fear. We saved little and accrued a lot of debt.

Then the economy took a turn for the worse and everything changed. Americans are saving again. They are being more financially conservative. Even highly qualified  loan applicants are having trouble getting money from the bank. In short, Americans are now engaging in the kinds of practices that we should have been doing all along. It might not have prevented the present disaster, but it certainly would have blunted the impact for some people. Unfortunately, many of us simply weren’t prepared.

Returning to my original point, our current economic predicament has a spiritual parallel. When things are good, we become complacent. It is not until disaster hits that we batten down the hatches and get ourselves in gear. From a faith perspective, this complacency manifests itself in the neglect of prayer and reading the Bible. We know that God will always be there when we need Him, so it’s tempting to maintain a minimal connection when the sailing is smooth.

However, the point I made at church this week and the point I want to emphasize now, is that spiritual preparedness for the storms of life has nothing to do with whether or not God is available. He is always available. Spiritual unpreparedness is instead about your ability to hear Him. Do you remember the sound of God’s voice? Can you recall the shape of His character? If you have not been spending consistent, intimate time with God, the answer may be no.

Just like any other discipline that you learn, following God actually requires practice. In the same way that one learns an instrument or a foreign language through time and commitment, one must learn and grow into Christian discipleship gradually and diligently. The longer you follow God, the more you form habits of self.

On the other hand, if you stop practicing a musical instrument for several years and then suddenly pick it up again, you are likely to make mistakes. You will play clumsily as you remember the finger positions and notes. Likewise, spiritual neglect results in clumsy discipleship. We may turn to God when times are bad, but we might also find ourselves demanding things of God, becoming impatient with Him or others, caving into fear, and lashing out at loved ones in the process. The relationship will be unfamiliar to us.

Intimacy with God is not a switch we can just turn on or off. What’s more, the substance of one’s connection to God is not to be found in the simple act of prayer or reading one’s Bible. Those practices are certainly important, but the ability to seek and hear God is an entire posture of the soul, and it cannot be formed in a day.

Knowing this about discipleship, it is important to develop spiritual consistency between the good times and the bad. Rather than take a triage approach to faith, look to Paul’s example in Philippians 4:11-12, who possessed an intimacy with Christ no matter his circumstances. Although seasons of sweetness are great opportunities to rest and breathe, they are also opportunities to be diligent and prepare. So seek God now. Pray continually. Cling to His Word. Because even when the sailing is smooth, the call of the Christian life is still upon us.

This week I wrote an article for Her.meneutics that reflected on the most recent Mark Driscoll controversy. Unlike my last Her.meneutics article, of which I was surprised at the backlash, I was prepared to take some punches for this one. Although Driscoll is a many-layered person whose church has been an instrument of healing in the lives of many Seattle women, his critics struggle to get past his masculine rhetoric.

I sympathize with that sentiment. I have experienced the exact same struggle, which is why I chose to write the article. In some measure, the Her.meneutics piece was an act of personal repentance for an unchrist-like disposition on this issue. I believe that Mark Driscoll is very wrong on some things, but my assessments of him and men like him have tended to be unfair. Over the years I have found myself making blanket statements about certain Christian teachers, over-simplifying their ministries and messages without having all the facts. I don’t know any of them personally, but that hasn’t stopped me from making judgments based on very limited knowledge.

Most of those judgments were made in private, but the spirit behind them was nevertheless misguided. Another Christian’s error does not justify my own, and I want to confess that now.

In the past, I have written that it is easier to criticize than sympathize. We can poke holes in one another’s theology all day long, but it takes discipline and humility to show grace. Being slow to anger and slow to speak is a real challenge for the fallen human spirit.

Clearly I failed to take my own advice on this matter, but I have also been convicted that these unqualified generalizations are, in addition to being unfair, sinful. I came to this realization thanks to an essay written by Ed Stetzer, the President of LifeWay Research. Ed is a friend for whom I have tremendous respect. He is a faithful Southern Baptist with an uncanny ability to converse with Christians across the board. He is one of the most well-connected and widely respected guys I know, and it is because of teachings like the one I am about to share.

In a book titled Evangelicals Engaging Emergent: A Discussion of the Emergent Church Movement, Ed contributed a chapter on the missional perspective of this movement. In it he cautioned against misrepresenting the Emergent Church movement, saying,

“Critics must be on guard against bearing false witness. When the contemporary church movement gained the same kind of traction across denominational boundaries, many critical words were spoken, many of them false. The E/EC has not been able to escape the same kind of criticism. In regards to the contemporary and the emerging church movements, it seems that many in Evangelicalism struggle with the ninth commandment–a shame when we Evangelicals hold to the inerrancy of Scriptures that list that very commandment. If you are going to speak out against a movement, learn about it. Then you can speak with wisdom and clarity…”

Ed’s point about bearing false witness gets to the heart of the issue. This has become a real problem on the internet today, especially in my generation. The freedom of the internet allows Christians to make unqualified, decisive statements about pastors, churches and movements without knowing the whole picture. I have done this myself, and it was born out of an overly simplistic view of the world. My conclusions were just plain sloppy.

Disagreement certainly has its place, but we will fail to disagree with “wisdom and clarity,” as Ed noted, if we don’t account for the nuances of sin and faith. Paul himself bemoaned his broken condition, ruefully confessing, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” (Rom. 7:15) Even with the best of intentions, we all screw up. On the other hand, many of the most controversial leaders have also served as powerful vehicles for the grace of God. Undoubtedly, the Christian life is far more complex than our internet musings and private sarcasm reflect.

Given the paradoxes of the Christian life, we must tread carefully when we criticize others, and we must do so as a matter of personal holiness. Whether the topic is Mark Driscoll, Rob Bell, Beth Moore, Rick Warren, Joel Osteen, John Piper, or Brian McLaren, just to name a few, caution is in order.

Ephesians 4:15 exhorts Christians to speak “the truth in love.” As we seek to be a united Church that bears a positive witness to the world around us, we must not underestimate the importance of both love and truth. Loving disagreement is essential, but so is truth. We must speak the truth boldly when a Christian teacher abuses his or her authority, but we must also speak the truth about who they really are. The latter truth is far more difficult to discern, which is perhaps why so few of us labor to know it.

Lately my husband and I have fallen into a bit of a bad habit. In fact, even as I write this post I’m engaged in the very act of it! We are sitting on the couch, next to each other, both on our laptops with the television on, not speaking. We are together, but we aren’t interacting with each other. And unfortunately this happens a lot. At the end of a long day we are both exhausted and barely up to the task of talking, so we opt for the low maintenance quality time of studying together or watching t.v. together  (although the “quality” aspect of it is rather questionable).

I think this is a pretty normal problem for couples, as well as friends. It is amazing how less intentional I became with friends after we moved in together. Rarely did we schedule meals to catch up and chat. We just assumed that, by the very nature of living together, we knew what was going on in one another’s lives.

The thing is, intimacy is not a passive activity. It’s not something that just happens on its own. In fact, it can require a lot of hard work, which means we’re likely to take the path of least resistance instead. Rather than put in the effort of getting to know someone, we either make no effort at all and spend our time on less demanding activities, or we find less demanding, superficial ways of bonding.

When I realize this has happened to a relationship in my life, I work toward re-centering it. Oftentimes, that means cutting out the activity that has distracted us from genuine closeness. For example, one of the ways that women bond with one another is through gossip. It may start out with the best of intentions–concern about a friend, perhaps–but it easily morphs into something dishonorable. Another way that women bond is through shopping together, which is not in itself wrong, but it can reinforce bad habits or encourage materialistic temptations.

In both cases, the strength of those friendships might benefit from an intentional pruning of the unhealthy behaviors. When it comes to shopping or talking about others, the women might consider taking a break. In the case of me and my husband, we might consider turning off the t.v. for awhile. In each of these scenarios, the relationships would benefit from a period of fasting from the habits that stifle their growth.

Fasting is perhaps one of the most unobserved Christian disciplines in all of Scripture. I suspect that one of the main reasons Christians brush off fasting is because we don’t understand it. It is difficult to discern any direct correlation between fasting and discipleship. Why would God ask us to abstain from something like food in order to seek Him? Is prayer not enough?

Given this confusion, I hope the above illustrations are a helpful way to conceive of fasting. Of course, there is more to fasting than intimacy with God–such as obedience–but one of the chief functions of fasting is to temporarily remove distractions from our lives in order to focus more intentionally on Him. Through fasting, we remove those low maintenance security blankets that have gradually morphed into God-supplanting idols. And food is a significant one. What else do we depend on more for our very existence? What sustains us more on a daily basis? Is there anything more basic than this most basic necessity?

Practically speaking, most of us depend more on food than on God. For that reason, fasting from food is a relational wake-up call. We might be following God but we are depending on food, and that mindset has an effect on our relationship with Him. So we fast, on occasion, to check our hearts and remove anything that has grown to a place of unhealthy standing between us and Him.

With all of this in mind, I encourage you to consider fasting during Lent this year. It begins in just over 2 weeks (Ash Wednesday is on March 9) and extends until Easter. It is a Christian tradition to fast during this season, but many believers observe the practice as an act of sheer willpower, a test of their personal discipline. They approach it the way someone might approach running a marathon, not growing in intimacy with the Lord.

To resist this pitfall, I encourage to spend the next 2 weeks searching your heart and studying your life. What stands between you and intimacy with God? What does your heart gravitate towards instead of doing the hard work of cultivating a relationship with Him? Once you have pinpointed an area that needs to be pruned, resolve to fast from it during Lent and choose an accountability partner in the process. Maybe the two of you can fast together! Ultimately, the challenge is not whether you can last the whole 40 days, but whether you are closer to the heart of God afterward.

And if you have any particularly creative ideas for observing Lent, please share them here! I’m still praying about how I will observe Lent this year, and I would love to hear from you.

This week I start a new class and my life is about to get super hectic, so I thought I would re-post a blog I wrote a couple years ago (before I was married, as you will notice) that is admittedly one of my favorites. Let me know what you think!

***

Every Fall, the North Carolina State Fair comes to Raleigh, North Carolina for about a week and a half, and every year I go to the Fair to do the following:

1. Look at all the mullets

2. Eat lethal amounts of fried food.

3. Hunt for a baby pig.

While the first two are fairly self-explanatory, let me explain the last one.

At the State Fair there is a giant compound that houses all the award-winning livestock for that year. As a part of the Fair, attendees can go inside to look at the cows, goats, sheep, etc. but you cannot touch them. Ordinarily, this rule would not be a problem for me, except that one of those pens contains an entire litter of baby pigs. And they are by far the CUTEST thing you’ve ever seen.

Unfortunately, you can’t get anywhere near enough to touch them. You just have to stare at them from afar, only wishing you could crawl in there and hold them. I seriously wanted to kidnap one of those adorable baby pigs. I was so smitten with them that I literally talked about it all year long.

Lucky for me, I am getting married to a man whose father used to be in charge of the State Fair livestock, so he has “connections.” (And no, that is not why I’m marrying him) Early on in our relationship I explained to him my life-long desire to pet and hold a baby pig, maybe even adopt one as a pet, and he told me he could work something out.

When the State Fair rolled around the following year, Ike called in a favor, and one night after the Fair closed we got to go inside the pig pen. Finally, after years of waiting, pining, I got to hold a baby pig.

Tragically, it was not the experience I thought it would be. Looking at a baby pig, you’d think they’d be soft and squishy and cuddly–kind of like a pink puppy. But they’re not. Their hair is coarse, their skin is rough, and the pig I held screamed the entire time like I was murdering it. I felt like one of those mortified mothers whose kid has a meltdown in the grocery store.

After that experience I was pretty disillusioned with the baby pigs. It was a major let down after years of build up.

Now even though my long journey ended in disappointment, I share this story because it actually helped me to better understand a passage of Scripture that I’d always been familiar with. Proverbs 11:22 reads–

Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman without discretion.

As a result of my experience at the State Fair, I have learned one very important thing–no matter how old they are, pigs are nasty. The babies may look cute if you’re standing far away, but if you get close enough to touch them, you’ll see that they’re just mini versions of their mothers–mean, moody, and dirty. They also get obscenely large.

So while a gold ring might be a stunning piece of jewelry, its beauty is lost when placed in the snout of a pig. No matter how exquisite, there is no ring that can over-compensate for the hulking mass behind it. It’s just a tiny, shiny ring on a giant, dirty pig.

This is the visual we are meant to imagine when we read Proverbs 11:22. The beauty of the ring is completely overshadowed by the pig that dons it, and it is the same in a beautiful woman without discretion.

If you look up the definition of “discretion,” you will find the following synonyms: discernment, maturity, wisdom, thoughtfulness, prudence, and care. These all describe the kind of character that honors God, and honors those around her.

With that in mind, a woman could be a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, but if she’s got a sailor’s mouth, she manipulates people with her body , and she throws a fit when she doesn’t get her way, then her beauty immediately pales. Her looks cannot make up for her personality.

Now given the way our culture emphasizes beauty, this may seem hard to believe. After all, beautiful women are allowed to get away with a lot more bad behavior than their “less attractive” counterparts. Is this verse really true?

The answer is an emphatic “yes!” A woman’s beauty might open some doors for her, but it is her character that will be her ultimate success. Beauty may attract a man, but faithfulness and respect is what will enable her dating relationships, and ultimately marriage, to last. Beauty may get her a job opportunity, but her work ethic will allow her to keep it, if not excel. Beauty may give her attention and friends, but it is her trustworthiness that will determine whether they stick around.

When a woman looks back on her life and measures the successes of her beauty, versus the successes of her character, she will find that her character made all the difference. It determines whether or not those blessings will be lasting. And when measured this way, it becomes more clear that the beauty of a woman without discretion does little more for her life than a ring on the tip of a pig’s nose. Both adornments are ultimately fruitless.

Throughout most of my Christian life I have been taught that there are two types of people who call themselves “Christian”: There are Nominal Christians who are Christian by heritage but display no evidence of an active faith, and then there are “real” Christians who love Jesus and have committed their lives to them.

While there is certainly a wide spectrum within each of these two categories, I have begun to realize that there is a third category of self-described Christians, and I will refer to them here as Sentimental Christians. I have come to this realization with the help of a former seminary professor of mine, an ethicist named Stanley Hauerwas who was fond of making the following statement:

“The greatest enemy of Christianity is not atheism, but sentimentality.”

I still remember the first time I heard those words, because I was both surprised and a little confused by them. Sentimentality? What exactly is he trying to say? Well the reason I am posting this topic now is that I can think of no better time to reflect on “sentimentality” than the holidays.

I for one am VERY sentimental about the Christmas season. Like every year before this one, I put out my Christmas decorations, I heated up some apple cider, and I listened to my favorite Christmas songs as I sat on my couch and let the feelings of tender nostalgia wash over me. There are certain moments during the Christmas season–when I am sitting by my parents’ crackling fire or gazing at the lighted tree–that take me straight back to my childhood. It’s like being wrapped up in a warm blanket of the sights and smells and memories that made my younger years so magical. And that’s why I get so excited about Christmas–those sentimental elements of the season bring me amazing comfort and joy.

That is sentimentality. For a more clear-cut definition, Merriam-Webster defines the word “sentimental” as “marked or governed by feeling, sensibility, or emotional idealism” and “resulting from feeling rather than reason or thought.” And while sentimentality is mostly harmless as it relates to family traditions, you’re probably beginning to see why it’s dangerous as a foundation for one’s Christian faith.

Sentimental Christian faith is one that appears, on one level, to be fully devoted to Christ. A sentimental Christian delights in the Christian faith because of the comfort it brings her. She loves to carry forth the Christian faith in which she was raised, and she is therefore involved at her church. Her Facebook profile probably displays Philippians 4:13 or Jeremiah 29:11. By all accounts, she would seem to be a committed Christian.

But if you dig just a little bit below the surface it becomes clear that her faith is all about comfort. Christianity is familiar to her and makes her feel secure because it is how she was raised. Yet when the Gospel requires the slightest bit of sacrifice, the sentimental Christian shows resistance. The sentimental Christian manifests tremendous inconsistency between what she professes and the personal life she leads. Outside of church she shrinks from monetary generosity or kindness in the face of evil. Sacrifice has no place in her life, not even the smallest of sacrifices such as abstinence before marriage or drinking responsibly.

That is the problem with sentimental faith–it is ultimately self-serving. It is a feel-good religion that is incompatible with the sacrifice and suffering described in Scripture and displayed on the cross. And this inconsistency is glaringly obvious to the surrounding world. Hence my professor’s accusation that the greatest enemy to Christianity is not atheism, but sentimentality. When the church houses thousands of professing “born-agains” whose lives look nothing like Jesus’ and who know very little about the teachings of Christ, the church looks like it’s putting on a sham. Our own shallow faith is our worst enemy.

Although the Gospel is founded upon faith, not works, the book of James is a sobering reminder that our lifestyle still matters. God cares about how we live our lives, not only because He knows what is best for us but because we reflect on Him. So I encourage you to examine your faith and consider whether it is about sentimentality, or a love and gratitude for Jesus that is so passionate you would do anything for him. Talk to your friends about this as well. I have been astonished by how nonchalantly Christians ignore Scriptural commands, and it is a topic we need to discuss. Rather than fight our enemies on the outside, we first need to address the sickness within.

Well it’s been one of those weeks! I am having a crazy busy few days getting my work done for school and other commitments, which has left me little time to blog. I have lots of thoughts to share with you all from what I’ve been learning–just no time to write them down. Until then, I’m reposting a blog I wrote over a year ago that continues to challenge me.

The Path Principle urges us to think of our lives more holistically, and consider the consequences of our decisions. Just last week, my husband and I were talking about the kinds of habits we are forming in our home right now (such as how much t.v. we watch) and how that will affect our parenting. That’s the Path Principle. Direction determines destination, which means that good parenting begins long before a baby is ever born. Great food for thought!

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Last Spring Andy Stanley, Pastor of North Point Church in Atlanta, preached a sermon that altogether encompassed an idea I’ve been trying and failing to articulate over the last several months. He called it the Path Principle, and the idea is simple:

Direction determines destination.

He began by explaining that if you were to get on I-95 and head North, you won’t get to Florida. No matter what your intentions may be, no matter how fast or diligently you drive, you are headed away from Florida, not towards it. With that in mind, destination is not about intentions. You can make a decision with all the good intentions in the world, but if it’s headed in the wrong direction, it won’t take you where you want to go.

Stanley based his sermon off of Proverbs 7, in which Solomon watches a young man as he foolishly steps into the house of an adulteress. In the young man’s mind, however, he thinks this is a fabulous idea! Her husband is away, she has just returned from presenting her sin offering (that is, she paid God off or “got right with God” so that she could go sin without consequences), and she had an intoxicating night of love planned just for him.

And like the “throng” of men who had gone before him, he went inside thinking how lucky he was, that he could somehow pull this off without facing any consequences. He was the “exception” to the rule, he thought.

But Solomon notes that this man is not the exception; he is the rule. And this path that he is on, it’s a highway. Countless men have gone before him thinking the exact same thing. And just like those other men, he walked into his fate as a “an ox goes to the slaughter, or as a stag is caught fast till an arrow pierces its liver; as a bird rushes into a snare; he does not know that it will cost him his life.” (7:22-23)

This young man thought he was making a one-time decision. He thought there wouldn’t be consequences. But this wasn’t just a decision, it was a path, and it placed him in a direction that led toward his personal destruction.

This story, and Stanley’s application of it, have captivated me. The more I read Proverbs the more I see the analogy re-affirmed. All over the place there is language of taking the “path” or “way” of righteousness or death. It places our daily actions within a more holistic framework, giving them the appropriate weight they are due, rather than brushing them off as “not that big of a deal” or “God can use it somehow.”

As a minister to women of all ages, I can’t think of a better strategy for making life decisions. It’s applications are so incredibly far-reaching! When talking to young women about dating or sex, the conversation shouldn’t merely be about what rules they’re breaking, what they can or can’t get away with. It’s instead about the path they are taking. If you date a non-Christian, you’re walking on a path of destruction. If you’re having sex with your boyfriend, then you’re on a path of destruction. If you’re flirting with physical boundaries, or maybe you’re flirting with the attractive married man in your office–these are not isolated actions. Each one of those choices is a path in a particular direction. It doesn’t matter how noble or innocent your intentions, because intentions are irrelevant. And you are not the exception, you are the rule.

Other areas of application…

Parenting–If your destination is to raise godly children, then get off the path of over-scheduling them with so many activities that church is no longer the top priority.

Money–If your destination is to be a good steward of your money, then get off the path of living beyond your means

Healthy Body Image–If your destination is to have a healthy respect for the beauty of your body as God created it, then get off the path of constantly consuming lies about true beauty by reading the magazines and watching the t.v. shows that project them (Side Note: I’m going to write a blog about this whole air-brushing scandal very soon!)

Intimacy with God–If your destination is having a living, growing relationship with God, then get off the path of church shopping, consuming your church instead of serving it, and refusing to make a daily devotion a priority in your schedule.

And the list goes on and on. But all of that to say, examine the decisions you are making right now about your life, and do the math. What path are you on, and where is it going to take you? Not where do you hope it will take you, but where does Scripturesay it will take you? That’s your answer.