When it comes to good biblical parenting advice, much is lacking in contemporary Christian resources. Many of the Christian parenting “gurus” employ secular psychology and slap Bible verses on, claiming their advice to be biblical. But most of the time it is behavior modification that addresses only symptoms and not the heart. This is where we applaud Tripp. He was one of the first to suggest that changing behavior without changing the heart is pretty much useless. The sin in the heart will be masked and may come out in another way, so no real change has occurred. Tripp also rightly asserts that the only solution to this problem is the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that the parents’ goal should not be a well-behaved child, but one that embraces the gospel and continually grows in relationship with Jesus Christ. But sadly, this is where Tripp’s helpfulness ends.

Tripp’s use of scripture is not consistent with its literal meaning or with its context. After quoting a few Proverbs (Proverbs 22:15; 23:14; 29:15, 17) he concludes:

What is the rod? The rod is a parent, in faith toward God and faithfulness toward his or her children, undertaking the responsibility of careful, timely, measured and controlled use of physical punishment to underscore the importance of obeying God, thus rescuing the child from continuing in his foolishness unto death (130).

The use of the rod is an act of faith. God has mandated its use (131).

There is much debate amongst Christian scholars as to the exact translation of key words in these passages. The word for “child” (na’ar) has many uses, as does the word for “rod” (shebet). There is serious question as to the literal translation of these passages, let alone the cultural context.

Even if we decide to go with the literal interpretation that these Proverbs recommend the use of a literal rod for spanking a young child, we must consider the context of the passages Tripp uses to justify his conclusions, beginning with genre. The only text he uses to prove the absolute necessity of spanking is Proverbs. The Book of Proverbs is wisdom literature, not to be elevated to the authority of mandates from God. As with the genre of proverbs, “The proverb form, no matter the cultural background, presupposes the right circumstance for its proper application” (Longman, 48). Longman goes on to state that his grandmother when preparing dinner would say “Too many cooks spoil the broth” then when time to clean up, she would announce, “Many hands make light work.” These are both true, in the right circumstance, but are never to be taken as universal truths, or “brute facts” as VanTil would say.

If genre alone isn’t enough to demonstrate that elevating these wise statements to a direct commandment from God is unsound hermeneutic, the immediate context should be enough to show how this hermeneutic is absurd. One of the passages Tripp uses is Proverbs 23:14. Here is just the beginning of Proverbs 23 (NIV):

1 When you sit to dine with a ruler, note well what is before you,
2 and put a knife to your throat, if you are given to gluttony.
3 Do not crave his delicacies, for that food is deceptive.
4 Do not wear yourself out to get rich; have the wisdom to show restraint.
5 Cast but a glance at riches, and they are gone, for they will surely sprout wings and fly off to the sky like an eagle.
6 Do not eat the food of a stingy man, do not crave his delicacies;
7 for he is the kind of man who is always thinking about the cost. “Eat and drink,” he says to you, but his heart is not with you.
8 You will vomit up the little you have eaten and will have wasted your compliments.
9 Do not speak to a fool, for he will scorn the wisdom of your words.
10 Do not move an ancient boundary stone or encroach on the fields of the fatherless,
11 for their Defender is strong; he will take up their case against you.
12 Apply your heart to instruction and your ears to words of knowledge.
13 Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish him with the rod, he will not die.
14 Punish him with the rod and save his soul from death.

While it might seem obvious that riches won’t actually sprout wings and fly off like and eagle (v. 5) and that God is not commanding all people prone to gluttony to slit their own throats (v. 2), to interpret verse 14 as a commandment is equally ridiculous, not to mention hermeneutically inconsistent if you don’t interpret verse 2 as a commandment.

Another glaring misinterpretation of scripture has to do with a New Testament text.

We have always been guided by Hebrews 12:11, “No discipline is pleasant at the time, but painful. Afterward, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” If discipline has not yielded a harvest of peace and righteousness, it is not finished. On some occasions we have had to say to our children, “Dear, Daddy has spanked you, but you are not sweet enough yet. We are going to have to go back upstairs for another spanking” (174).

First of all, how does one define “sweet enough”? Is that a biblical mandate I am unaware of? And does behaving “sweetly” after a good beating demonstrate heart change?

But the real problem is that the Hebrews passage is being used as a proof-text for Tripp’s agenda. Hebrews 12 is a passage of encouragement. It is meant to bring hope to God’s children who are experiencing suffering. They are being reminded how much God loves them. The passage is not intended to be interpreted as a “How to Guide” for disciplining your children. But even if it were, if it holds some truths applicable in child discipline, where does it say that the righteousness and peace are demonstrated within moments of the discipline? And what about verse 10? “Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness.” Here there is a clear distinction created between God’s discipline and a parent’s. The parent’s discipline is sufficient to create holiness, only God’s discipline is. We can’t change our child’s hearts with repeated beatings, we have to trust that God will change the hearts in his timing.

Of course if the hermeneutic is faulty, the resulting theology is also poor. Tripp asserts, “[T]he function of the spanking is…to restore him to a place in which God had promised blessing” (173), then goes on to conclude:

The “why” is that God commands it. Additionally, spanking enables you to deal with issues of the heart….The heart is the battleground. The spanking comes only because it is God’s method of driving foolishness far from your child’s heart (175).

If what Tripp has done already isn’t disturbing enough, the fact that he equates the rod as a means of grace, actually the ONLY means of grace for a child, is in direct contradiction with the truth of all of Scripture. Salvation is by Christ alone, through grace alone, by faith alone. It is the Holy Spirit who works in the hearts of those God has saved — and he does not require physical beatings to achieve this purpose.

I certainly do give Tripp the benefit of the doubt that he does believe the truth of the gospel; I believe the mistaken emphasis on the necessity of the rod comes from his Reformed Baptist theology. He starts with the basic tenets of Calvinism (especially total depravity) but without the framework of the child’s special place in covenant community, he finds himself needing a way for the child to come to Christ. He sees the young child as unregenerate, someone who is outside of the Church family. This subtle yet insidious presupposition affects his interpretation; and churches that affirm the covenant community and the value of participation of all children of believers — as signed and sealed in the sacrament of baptism — should be wary of how this theological difference impacts his view of children, and the necessity of punishment rather than disciplining with grace. One illustration of this different approach appears when Tripp discussed the child from infancy to age four: “The most important lesson for the child to learn in this period is that HE IS AN INDIVIDUAL UNDER AUTHORITY.” (155) Sadly, there is no room for the gospel during this stage of life. In our homes we believe the most important lesson for this age as well as every other is that God loves you and sent Jesus to die for you. Romans 5:13 sums it up pretty well: “But God demonstrates his love for us, in that while we are still sinners, Christ died for us.” Why is this message not for young children? Another example of poor theology occurs just a few pages later. Tripp is discussing Ephesians 6:1-3. Interestingly he omits verse 4 — but that’s another topic.

1Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 2″Honor your father and mother” which is the first commandment with a promise 3that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth. 4Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.

Tripp correctly points out that this passage promises blessing for those who obey their parents. As parents care about the well-being of their children, it makes sense that the rules they set up are for the best interests of those children. And the children that obey are usually much better off than those who disobey. But Tripp interpretation goes too far. “The disobedient child has moved outside the place of covenant blessing.” (157) Thankfully I know that my place in the covenant is not dependent on my obedience or my righteousness, but on Christ’s righteousness imputed to me.

Tripp’s theological assumptions are also apparent in his lack of biblical categories for understanding behavior. Yes, it is true that we all are sinners and have deceitful hearts, but that doesn’t explain everything that we do. We know from the false conclusions of Job’s friends that not every bad thing happens because we have sinned. We live in a broken world, with broken bodies. And we also are victims of the sin of others. And sometimes when we respond in a manner that is out of accordance with God’s will, we do so out of despair rather than rebellion. We need correction, but in the form of gentle encouragement, not punishment. That’s why we have Matthew 18 for guidance — not everyone gets excommunicated on the spot. Sadly the only category Tripp allows for understanding the behavior of children is sinful rebellion.

When your child is old enough to resist your directives, he is old enough to be disciplined. When he is resisting you he is disobeying. Rebellion can be something as simple as an infant struggling against a diaper change or stiffening out his body when you want him to sit on your lap (176).

Where are the other biblical categories that could be used to interpret these behaviors? Because of the fall we have broken bodies. Is it possible that the child is in pain? Gas or colic, perhaps? Or maybe the child is hungry, or tired. Perhaps there is a tag in the child’s clothing that is scratching him. Or even worse, maybe the child was spanked the last time his diaper was changed and now he is afraid that he will be hurt again? The conclusion that rebellion is the only explanation is appallingly unbiblical.

Tripp’s definition of obedience is also troubling.

It means more than a child doing what he is told. It means doing what he is told; Without Challenge, Without Excuse, and Without Delay (160).

On the following page he continues his explanation that there should be no discussion of the command, no questioning or explaining, just blind submission. Was Jacob in sin when he wrestled with God? No, he actually receives the name “Israel” indicating that he has matured in his faith as a result of wrestling with God. And God uses this same name to identify his people — a people set apart and identified with the name which means “he strives with God.” Similarly we have to ask if Christ was in sin in the Garden of Gethsemane when he asked God to take the cup from him. If the simple action of questioning, or discussing the command is disobedience, then we have an imperfect Savior. There is nothing disobedient about requesting more information, expressing feelings, or even asking your parents to reconsider. We parents know that sometimes we don’t realize the implications of what we have asked our children to do. And after hearing more about the situation, we change what we have requested of our children. If we had insisted upon obedience based on our initial request, we would have been creating a bigger problem. It  is good that our children know that it is safe to question if they don’t understand or find a request unreasonable. Now if after the discussion is over they refuse to do what we have asked, that is disobedience.

If faulty biblical hermeneutic and theology that undermines the blessings of Covenant Theology are not enough to create serious concerns about the teaching of Tripp, the fact that his methods completely contradict his premise should suffice. He sets the stage in Chapter One explaining that behavior modification should not be the goal, but changing the heart (out of which the wrong behavior grows) is the Christian parent’s goal. But the two prong method he advocates is 1. communication and 2. spanking. Ironically all that spanking accomplishes is a simple Pavlovian response. Pain is to be avoided. Children quickly learn what is expected of them in order to be spared a spanking. And when they didn’t learn in time to prevent the spanking, they quickly learn how to respond once the spanking is over to prevent another one. Just because the child asks forgiveness and acts sweetly toward the parent, does not in any way demonstrate that the heart of that child has been changed. The Holy Spirit through the teaching of the Word of God is what changes our hearts, whether two weeks old or 98 years old. God can use situations in life, including discipline, to get our attention, but to assert that spanking has a direct connection to the heart is not only unbiblical, but completely illogical. For all his emphasis on heart change, ironically Tripp’s methods only accomplish behavior modification.

Although we personally do not spank my children, we do respect those who choose to use corporal punishment as one of the tools in their toolbox of discipline. We hope that we have expressed our concerns not with spanking per se, but with the faulty methods Tripp uses to promote spanking. At best his teachings are misguided, and at worst, they are quite dangerous. We trust that you do not want your flock to be shepherded in a manner that promotes poor biblical hermeneutics and undermines Covenant Theology.

The Mothering by Grace Team

In short the idea behind the Ministry of Reality “is being able to be REAL about life. Homes are not always (not *usually* even!) spotless, children are not always dressed adorably, children do not always “behave,” marriage is hard, and there aren’t simple answers to hard questions. Being honest about all of this makes it easier (in my opinion) to live life… because we can ASK for help about problems we aren’t covering up. We can be encouraged by others’ stories of surviving similar seasons and trials.”

Being real, being vulnerable. . . in that we can ask for help from others, be approachable when others need our help. In the Ministry of Reality we can acknowledge just how dependent we are on God’s grace daily, and (hopefully, prayerfully, fallenly) show what that dependence looks like.

In the spirit of the Ministry of Reality, several moms have starting blogging about that on Mondays, Ministry of Reality Mondays. As humorously appropriate, it started last week. . . on Tuesday.

So for your reading and reality encouragement:

“Ministry of the Real” OR “Our Kids’ First Fling with Jackson Pollock”

*tap tap tap* Anybody there? Coming next Monday…

“Ministry of Reality” Monday…

Ministry of Reality Mondays

Jo’s Ministry of Reality Mondays

Lisa’s Ministry of Reality Mondays

Kate’s Ministry of Reality Monday

Ministry of Reality Monday, July 5

MOR Monday

Ministry of Reality: Shopping with Toddlers

It’s Monday again. I must be Real.

Parenting by Fear

Martyr for a Mommy? No, Thanks!

Amie’s Ministry of the Real Monday

Simply This: Ministry of Reality Monday

Christi’s Ministry of the Real Monday

Twitter: #ministryofreality

Please post here if you have more to add.

Ministry of Reality Monday will be hosted next Monday, July 12, by SoggyMommy.

• 1 Timothy 6:12-16
• 1 John 1-15
• Luther’s Advent Sermon

God of All Mercies — The Fourth Monday of Advent
We read:

• 2 Corinthians 1:2-5
• Ephesians 3:14-19

We remember:

• Luke 3
• Dove

Jesus’ Forgiveness — The Fourth Tuesday of Advent
We read:

• Luke 7:36-50
• Colossians 3:12-17

We remember:

• Luke 1:26-38
• White Lily

Shepherd of Our Souls — The Fourth Wednesday of Advent
We read:

• John 10:11-18
• 1 Peter 2:25

We remember:

• Matthew 2
• Star

The Baby in Bethlehem — Christmas Eve
We read:

• Luke 2:1-20
• Micah 5:1-5
• Luther’s Christmas Eve Sermon

We remember:

• Luke 2
• Manger

The Lion Who is a Lamb — Christmas Day
We read:

• Revelation 5:1-14
• Matthew 2:1-11
• Luther’s Christmas Day Sermon
• Luther’s Second Christmas Day Sermon

We remember:

• John 1
• Cross

God Incarnate — The Third Sunday of Advent
We read:

• Colossians 1:15-20
• Hebrews 1:1-3
• Luther’s Advent Sermon

We remember:

• 1 Samuel 16-17
• Shepherd’s Crook

Poor for Our Sake — The Third Monday of Advent
We read:

• Philippians 2:3-8
• 2 Corinthians 8:9

We remember:

• 1 Kings 17-18
• Stone Altar

Branch of the Lord — The Third Tuesday of Advent
We read:

• Zechariah 6:12-15
• Ephesians 2:13-17

We remember:

• 2 Kings 18-19
• An Empty Tent

The One we Seek — The Third Wednesday of Advent
We read:

• Luke 7:18-23
• Isaiah 35:1-10

We remember:

• Isaiah 6-9
• Fire Tongs with Hot Coal

Jesus the Living Water — The Third Thursday of Advent
We read:

• John 4:3-14
• Isaiah 55

We remember:

• Jeremiah 7-9
• Tears

Rivers of Living Water — The Third Friday of Advent
We read:

• Revelation 22
• John 7:37-42

We remember:

• Habakkuk 1-3
• Stone Watchtower

Making All Things New — The Third Saturday of Advent
We read:

• Revelation 21:1-7
• 2 Corinthians 5:17-21

We remember:

• Nehemiah 1, 6, 13
• City Wall

A Virgin With Child — Second Sunday of Advent
We read:

• Luke 1:26-28
• Galatians 4:4-7
• Luther’s Second Sermon

We remember:

• Isaiah 9
• Candle

Immanuel, God With Us — Second Monday of Advent
We read:

• Matthew 1:18-25
• Zechariah 2:10-13

We remember:

• Genesis 37
• Coat of Many Colors

Good News! — Second Tuesday of Advent
We read:

• Luke 4:14-21
• Isaiah 52:6-10

We remember:

• Exodus 20
• Tablets

Jesus the Burden-Lifter — Second Wednesday of Advent
We read:

• Matthew 11:25-30
• 1 Peter 5:6-7

We remember:

• Numbers 6:22-27
• Hand

Jesus the Shepherd — The Second Thursday of Advent
We read:

• Luke 15:3-7
• Isaiah 40:9-11

We remember:

• Joshua 1 and Joshua 6
• Trumpet

We sing:

• Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho

Jesus the Healer — The Second Friday of Advent
We read:

• Matthew 9:18-35
• Isaiah 11:1-10

We remember:

• Judges 6-8
• Water Pitcher

A Redeemer for His People — The Second Saturday of Advent
We read:

• Luke 2:25-38
• Psalm 126

We remember:

• 1 Samuel 9-10
• Crown

When a friend drops everything to be with me when I need a friend, Christ is near. When our hearts break with those in sorrow, when we fight for the oppressed, Christ shows up. When we gather at his table, Jesus comes and meets us there. He has come and is coming again, but He IS risen. And that has present implications.

I am still longing for the new heavens and the new earth, for all things to be made new. But I am comforted as I see the ways that he is near, even now.

Reposted from This Classical Life.

My students are growing weary with writing, presenting, and test preparation. Yet, I try to remind them (and myself!) of the good privilege they’re receiving in all this education. Their deliverance is coming final exam week.

I haven’t been walking without waddling for some time now. This kid is repeatedly bruising one of my ribs, and sleep is growing elusive. Yet, this is my fourth baby, and I do know that deliverance, in the very specific form of delivery, is coming. So I pray for the grace to treasure up these last few days of kicks and the ability to watch television without being coated with spit up.

Then there’s the liturgical season: my sweet kids have developed a new litany of their own, repeating “I want that,” in the face of television commercials and catalogues that slip through the mail to them before I can stash them in the recycling. My nesting has mostly taken the form of buying and wrapping gifts early, lest my kids be left without Christmas bounty while I’m in the hospital. And yet, the joyous expectation of Advent is still there in the middle of “I want that” and to-do lists. We light our candles in the evening and sing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” Ransom captive Israel! Though my oldest is only eight, I’m caught by years of memories of her singing the hymn with candlelight reflected in her eyes. And I’m caught by the beauty of the additions of her brother’s and then her sister’s eyes to that candlelit table and by the expectation of another pair of eyes watching the candles next December. Deliverance is coming with the baby in the manger, and it’s ok that said deliverance will include the joy of peeling back gift wrap.

The ransom of captive Israel is, of course, accomplished only because Mary was delivered of the baby Jesus. Joy and release, pain and promise, are knit together. Delivering babies, it turns out, works best when I stop fighting. So, I’m praying in this Advent for the grace to let go of all kinds of things. I know it’s controversial, but I’m ready to let go of what seems to me to be an increasingly false dichotomy between penitence and joy. If we don’t sing only Advent hymns this season, I’ll try to let the Christmas carols prepare me for Christ’s coming as well. If the tree is already up and the lights are already sparkling, I’ll try to view it, not as a violation of the season of penance, but as the unstoppable breaking in of the joy that is coming. Letting go has never been particularly easy for me, but it’s one of the chief spiritual lessons that God has used motherhood to bring into my life. I’m letting go of other things as well. The legal bondage of perfectionism. My stubborn refusal to accept that, for whatever reason, having the coats hung up instead of tossed into the hall is important to my husband. The need to figure out how to perfectly parent those kids of mine or to ban all suspect toys and suspect joy from our household. Penitence and joy, expectation and deliverance are knit together.

As an Advent-Christmas treat, we’re going to a concert of Andrew Peterson’s fabulous advent album, Behold the Lamb. The lyrics march us through the whole story of what God has done for us through the centuries, of joy and deliverance. Peterson connects our need for deliverance, our need for penance, with the joy of Christmas, and his lyrics plead with God to “gather us beneath your wings tonight.”

So, deliver me, Emmanuel.
Of grading.
Of this rib-kicking blessing of a kid.
Of the kind of waiting and expectation that precludes joy.
And, most of all, from the tyranny of sin and the terror of death.
Deliver us.

But when you hear and accept this it is not your power, but God’s grace, that renders the Gospel fruitful in you, so that you believe that you and your works are nothing. For you see how few there are who accept it, so that Christ weeps over Jerusalem and, as now the Papists are doing, not only refuse it, but condemn such doctrine, for they will not have all their works to be sin, they desire to lay the first stone and rage and fume against the Gospel.

Luther’s First Sunday of Advent Sermon

I wish you could see what I see sitting here. In my reading nook. Next to me a sweet schnauzer warms my legs. In the next room, a gentle husband snoozes. Upstairs the sleepy preschooler has conked out for his Sunday afternoon coma, and the silly kindergartner tries his best to keep quiet in his own room. But I hear the leaping off the bed and the happy dancing directly above me.

I see our Christmas tree. Lit. A miracle in itself since just last night the sentimentally appointed pinester was dark due to a malfunction somewhere in its dozen strands of light. From my point of view, the Hubby divined the exact problem (blown light fuse) and fixed it effortlessly. Yesterday’s dead car battery, however, needed Geico’s help. And the vintage Lionel that usually circles the tree couldn’t be fixed without parts, so it waits for us next year. We were electrical Schleprocks yesterday.

But between me and the tree, I see, for the first time in our home, a single advent candle burning brightly. The Candle of Hope. I cobbled together a wreath of velvet leaves I made for Elise’s birth nine years ago and some wool leaves I cut from my old felted sweater. An evergreen of a different sort. All leaves intended for another purpose, resurrected for celebration.

We sang Christmas songs this morning at church. Imagine that — singing Christmas songs during the Christmas season. If you’ve never been a independent, fundamental Baptist, you have no idea what a gift that is. You see, Advent is a big no-no. And you don’t sing Christmas songs until the week of Christmas. Or maybe the two weeks before. And even then, the truly spiritual sing them almost grudgingly. Because Christmas is Catholic (i.e. pagan) and extending the Christmas season is commercial, we really should just ignore it altogether. The pious do!

I can’t even tell you how many Christians I know who refuse to celebrate the holiday at all. I think, in fact, Charles Dickens wrote a novel about just such a person.

But deep down, we want to anticipate and celebrate. We want an old ritual that connects us all to a Story grander than just our own. We want to sing!

Last night, we watched an old Ken Burns special on the Shakers – the mostly 19th-century agrarian sect which took in orphans and made the most simplistically elegant furniture imaginable. Burns’ hagiography brushed past all their ideological problems — that Mother Ann taught that Original Sin was sexual intercourse (and so they were celibate) and that God was both male and female with Jesus being the male manifestation and Mother Ann being the final female manifestation and Christ’s Bride. And, of course, that they must discipline their evil Body in order to let the wholly good Spirit reign.

Instead Burns highlighted their seemingly beautiful straining, struggling, and striving toward perfection. And in 1840 it looked like they had made it. They were booming. They were taking in the poor and homeless. Their industry and craftsmanship was admired and profitable. Their ethic, however, was tailored to a 19th-century agrarianism and could not survive life in the industrialized 20th century. And now in the 21st century, there are only three living Shakers left.

Sound familiar? It’s eerily familiar to me. Scarily familiar. In grad school, I read all about the Shakers and all the utopian sects born out of the Second Great Awakening (most of whom came from the Burned-Over District). And I empathize with all of them. I understand the appeal of perfection — that if I make my work (mothering, knitting, or homemaking) pristine enough and sincere enough, I’ll build an American ziggurat to God. I understand the appeal of the bifurcated thinking — that the industrialized world is evil and that my industrious domesticity is righteous. I understand the appeal of defining sin as out there instead of in here – that my containing evil makes my perfection attainable. I understand the appeal of being peculiar — that doing the hard thing and the unexpected thing will woo people to me/us/God. Whether the hard thing is celibacy or modesty or Scroogery.

What a different Story I heard this morning! That God comes to me and I don’t work my way toward Him. That His love is greater than my sin. That doing good comes because Jesus has made us good. That the first Advent guarantees the second. That Jesus is King. Now!

There’s no room for the curmudgeon in that Story!

The kindergartner has just been freed from his quietness. Daddy bounded down the stairs carrying him piggyback. And the preschooler followed with a big case of bed head. We all have the evening to rest together (and fix the lights on the tree again because another fuse just blew). Three years ago on this day we would have already been headed to a church service or a rehearsal or some such duty. Straining, struggling, and striving toward some illusion of perfection.

I laugh at the irony. Our reactionary anti-Catholic shunning of all things Advent has still duplicated the identical medieval religious feudalism. And our dispensationalist adventism won’t touch an extended celebration of the first Advent.

But I’ll light my Candle of Irony on another day. Today is the Candle of Hope.

This is what is meant by “Thy king cometh.” You do not seek him, but he seeks you. You do not find him, he finds you. For the preachers come from him, not from you; their sermons come from him, not from you; your faith comes from him, not from you; everything that faith works in you comes from him, not from you; and where he does not come, you remain outside; and where there is no Gospel there is no God, but only sin and damnation, free will may do, suffer, work and live as it may and can. Therefore you should not ask, where to begin to be godly; there is no beginning, except where the king enters and is proclaimed.

Reposted from A Time To Laugh.

God’s Love for Us — First Sunday of Advent
We read:

• 1 John 4:7-19
• Zephaniah 3:14-17
• Luther’s Sermon

We remember:

• 1 Samuel 16:1-13
• The Tree itself

We sing:

God’s command to love each other is required of every man.
Showing mercy to a brother mirrors his redemptive plan.
In compassion He has given of His love that is divine;
On the cross sins were forgiven; joy and peace are fully thine.

Come in praise and adoration, all who on Christ’s name believe.
Worship Him with consecration, grace and love will you receive.
For His grace give Him the glory, for the Spririt and the Word,
And repeat the gospel story till all men His name have heard.

The Promise of a Son — First Monday of Advent
We read:

• John 1:1-18
• Isaiah 9:1-7

We remember:

• Genesis 1-2
• A sunshine

The Kindness of God — First Tuesday of Advent
We read:

• Titus 3:4-7
• 1 John 3:1-2

We remember:

• Genesis 3
• Apple

We sing:

• God is so good!

The Hope of All Nations — First Wednesday of Advent
We read:

• Matthew 12:1-21
• John 3:16-17

We remember:

• Genesis 6-8
• Rainbow

We sing:

• Rise and Shine

The Light of the Nations — First Thursday of Advent
We read:

• Ephesians 5:8-14
• Isaiah 49:5-13

We remember:

• Genesis 12:1-7
• Stars

We sing:

• Father Abraham

The Light of the World — First Friday of Advent
We read:

• John 8:12
• Isaiah 60:1-5

We remember:

• Genesis 22
• Ram

The Brightness of His Light: First Saturday of Advent
We read:

• Revelation 21:23-26
• Isaiah 60:11-20

We remember:

• Genesis 27-18
• Ladder

So I’ve been wearing the same green dress for the last five days to participate in The October Dress Project, a project that started from the inspiration from The Little Brown Dress and The Uniform Project. It’s a month of ‘fasting from our clothes’ in efforts to re-prioritize and think creatively with the things (in this case, clothes) we’ve been given.

A few disclaimers: 1) I’m not nearly as fashion-forward as most of the women are who are wearing their dresses for one year and because their dresses and accessories are so versatile, they never look like they’re wearing the same thing day after day, and 2) I’m not one of those super-hip, super eco-friendly, re-purpose everything sort of gals. I’m a mom of 2 and a grad student on the side, but I figured that even though I don’t buy many clothes for myself (still trying to get that pregnancy weight off!), that there’s something to be gained by wearing the same dress every day.

What, you ask, is the point of wearing the same thing every day? For starters, it’s a practice in reorientation. Though given the stage of life I’m in — mother of two little ones — I don’t normally spend much time on my appearance, wearing the same green dress every day enables me still care about my appearance — after all, I try to make the same thing look different each day — and to learn to care about my appearance through the lens of stewardship. I admit “retail therapy” has appeal; even buying small, inexpensive things like red nail polish can instantly make me feel better about myself. Not only am I being prideful that I’m being frugal by only buying nail polish but I’m also finding my satisfaction in things at some level, so you can see, I’m a mess. But, wearing the same dress every day helps reorient that default position of my heart — finding satisfaction by outward things, whether clothes, or nail polish or what other people think of me — and in turn, leaves room for much more. It reminds me that I don’t need much, that I don’t need a closet full of clothes and that a green dress can serve as my ‘daily bread’. It inspires me to be creative with what I have rather than longingly flipping through magazines wishing I had ‘that’ thing.

My green dress isn’t going to change the world, and it probably won’t change my immediate community — after all, most of my friends think it’s pretty cool, if they even notice I’ve worn the same thing the last several days in a row. And it likely isn’t going to change my life that I begin to really enact the art of the commonplace in my daily life — again, my life is besot with little sticky hands and dishes! and laundry! — but I do hope that my practice of wearing this green dress will cause me to pause and consider that when I’m quick to complain to instead think not only of the copiousness of what I’ve been given, but also of what I can offer and with small means and imagination, how something ordinary can become beautiful and new.

Reposted from The Lion Rampant.