Mary the Usurper.

Catholics.

For a long time, I've struggled with Catholics and their various (false) beliefs. In fact, my dad lately watched a debate about whether Catholics count as our siblings in Christ given some of the false things they believe (according to Protestants). Shall I give an example?

Mary. From where do they get the concept of Mary's power? Who gave her this power? How could we possibly deny that it is power? (And what does Mary need power for?)

You see, Catholics believe that Mary as the mother of God must have some influence over him, so Catholics pray to her to ask her prayers on their behalf. They believe, as John MacArthur lately explained at the Ligonier conference in Orlando, that God is tough, and busy, and hard to get to, and Jesus is the same, and so they go to Mary, because (according to this logic) God needs the extra encouragement to hear our prayers. As if he wasn't interested or personal enough. As if he loved Mary more than the rest of us. As if Mary could somehow do something--could somehow intervene for us in a way--that Christ couldn't do on the cross.

Eugh. So false. So false I want to gag for having said it. Christ's atonement was either whole or it was worthless, not somewhere in between.

I believe this desire for Mary's involvement also reflects a disbelief in God's nature as a Father. Why did Jesus cry "Abba" if not to show us… oh, so much.

He shows us the ability we now have to go directly to God through Christ because of the righteousness imputed on us by him.

He shows us the personal nature of God as a "daddy," "Father," a close paternal figure who loves and listens to his children.

He shows us from this that we don't need Mary to intercede for us because we can go directly to him. What could Mary say that we can't say ourselves? Jesus himself went straight so God, and so can and should we. As Romans 8: 26-28 says,

And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don't know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. 27And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony in God's own will. 28And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.

How can we refute this? Paul undeniably tells us that the Spirit by God's Grace works for us. Who are we to tell God that his own Spirit's aid is not enough, but rather we seek the extra help of the saints and Mary? How arrogant.

And finally and very importantly, Jesus shows us the role of father through the example of his Father. What kind of father would he be who listens to his wife or mother above his children? The important part of this term "children" goes back to the first point--that we are children because God sees Christ's righteousness imputed in us. Thus we are saved. God now sees us as righteous beings. If God saved us and God saved Mary (we assume, because she birthed and followed Jesus), we are logically equals with Mary. Why should God listen to one righteous person over another? If I am blameless and my sister is blameless, is it right or just that my father should listen to her but not me? What makes her righteousness more valuable than mine? Nothing. We are all equal in our sinful deadness, and thus we are all equal in our salvation by imputed righteousness.

So why would God prefer Mary's righteousness over mine? I don't think he would. I believe God-the-Abba loves his children equally, as a father does. And because God listens to himself first, being omniscient and omnipotent, he would not listen to a "mother." (Please note: I say this because we must understand Christ's simultaneous state of humiliation and exaltation--being both fully God and fully man at once. Mary was the birth mother of the human Jesus, but that is not the same thing as the "mother of God.") In the same way, a father does not and should not listen to a mother more than his equally righteous children. (Take humanity into account here; all of this is meant with a grain of salt; yes, grandmothers/mothers will obviously sometimes know more than a child.)

The concept of Mary's "divinity" or influence denies God's nature as a Savior--one who loves to save, who is generous, who loves us. The same is true of fathers. Father should want to love their children as God similarly wants to love his. So when we come before God and seek Mary's intervention, essentially we deny God's nature and right to be a Savior, deny him the joy that he feels in fulfilling our requests. (How many Scripture passages reference the joy we receive by worshiping God, by following his commands? Ec 2:26; John 17:13 says, "...I told them many things while I was with them in this world so they would be filled with my joy.")

He would, I believe, be injured at our lack of faith in both his atonement and love. And who am I, mere created vessel, to deny God's nature (Romans 9), especially for Mary's sake?

Finally, do these ideas not imply that fathers should take joy in both listening to and answering their children? And in order for this to happen, children must be provided an environment--a father--that nourishes such love from children, an environment in which they feel free enough to approach their fathers. I know many people feel more comfortable approaching Mom; I did for a long time. But clearly Christ our Savior has such an intimate relationship with his Father, and vice versa; why should and do we not? Are you more comfortable with your mother than father? Are you afraid to approach your father for fear of rejection? Do you thus seek Mom's intervention? I think Jesus knew what he was talking about when he said, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me." If that's not the point of the Gospel, then I don't know what I believe.

Love God. Make Babies.

I leave on Wednesday for a conference with Ligonier Ministries in Orlando. It will be amazing, not simply for the speakers and the vacation, but simply for the fact that it's a private trip of just my dad and me. I rarely get quality time with my dad. To be honest, when we do get it, I'm not sure what to talk about. My dad has never been one of those fathers to approach his children, seek their love or time or conversation. He seeks to be heard rather than to hear. I can't blame him for that; I rather appreciate it, because Lord knows and designed that he has much more worthwhile things to say than I do. But at the same time, I believe fathers SHOULD seek time with their children.

I see so many things being properly executed in my sister Sarah Brown's family. I could have never known that they were proper until I saw them demonstrated by and on her six daughters. Sarah and her husband Tim, a pastor, make it their utmost priority to raise their six daughters in a healthy fear and love of God, teaching them to have a relationship with our Savior. The Brownies (which is what we call my nieces) are six of the most well-behaved, respectful, smart, classy, and beautiful girls I've ever known. Please let me explain. Three of my siblings have children; my oldest brother Michael with two daughters, Sarah with six daughters, and Elizabeth (Biz) with a girl and a boy. It's with no small amount of shame that I admit the Brownies are my favorite. Yet, one day I realized an interesting connection. I love most spending time with the Brownies, followed by Michael's daughters, and lastly Biz's children. "Why is this?" I asked myself, and I analyzed each of my siblings' relationships with their children.

"No, no, Abby, that's the wrong place to start."

How is that the wrong place to start? If my nieces are raised well/poorly, does is not reflect on their parents?

"Of course, smart girl. But even before that, what does a parent's child-rearing reflect upon him or her?"

I don't get it, I told myself.

"Silly face, a parent's raising is directly related to his relationship with God. A parent in good standing with God, a parent whose walk with God is a priority understands the importance of child-rearing. When looked at in light of God's Word, child-raising becomes an issue of stewardship, ministry, obedience to God's commands, and absolute joy. Psalm 37:26 says that children are a blessing to the godly. A blessing."

When did children stop being a blessing and become another job? The same time that a relationship with our Savior become another obligation, reluctantly sought because of guilt and fear of damnation?

Sarah and Tim love their children for the gifts of God that they are. I'm not saying that Biz and Michael and their respective spouses don't. But I note a striking lack of religion in their children's up-bringings. Michael's daughters know, I believe, what the Bible is. They've gone to a Protestant church every Sunday, prayed before meals, and are familiar with (some few) Christian ideas, yet I still see no real stress on religion in their lives aside from attending Sunday school. Biz's children don't know that much. They don't understand prayer, church attendance, God, or anything of the sort. Biz does not actively attend a church with her family or instruct them; her husband, Lord knows, has even less religious involvement. Am I wrong in assuming a weak relationship with God on the parents' part in these cases? Have I incorrectly connected the parents' individual Walks with their influence in raising their children? (I realize now that I have provided no specific qualifications of some to be better than the others, other than my own "who I enjoy being with more." The individual actions and characteristics of my nieces and nephew speak for themselves.) I cannot help but be convinced that a parent's success in child-rearing mirrors his relationship with God. Can I say that enough? If you want good children, if you want children who will bless you more than curse you, love God. Love. God.

I do believe that's the answer to everything. Love God. When we love God, we see things in light of his creation and goodness and law. We see children as a sign of God's covenant, a miracle unique only to humans created in God's image, a representation of stewardship, ministry, obedience in Love to God's Law, and a blessing. When we love God, he blesses us. Love God. Make babies. The rest will follow.

Thank God I'm Not God

I know that the main point of this blog is going to be my reflections on familial affairs, but something lately has made me think. I've been lately dwelling more on the relationship-aspect of my relationship with God, the idea that swelled during the first Great Awakening that Jesus is our Friend, not just our Judge. And like a friend, we need to commit love and time and energy into this relationship, conversation and activities, getting to know one another. Now let me tell you a secret about God that makes our relationships much easier: He's omniscient. He. Knows. Everything. Especially about us. And he still loves us? He still seeks us? Considering this fact, how much more, then, does it hurt him when we neglect our relationships with him?

A friend lately told me that he's afraid a friend of his may have killed herself. I could go on about suicide; perhaps I will another time. But as I was praying for her tonight before I was going to sleep, I pictured that situation from God's perspective. God, our all-loving omniscient Protector…who merely watches as his child kills herself. Please don't misunderstand me; I don't know the current condition of this girl. I can only pray that she's alive. But can you imagine, from God's perspective, watching someone take his own life? How empty a room would suddenly feel? Can you imagine the pure sadness, being there, so close? Thank God I'm not God; I wouldn't be able to handle it. We have the light end of the stick: Seek him back. Get to know him. And Calvinistically, he is so irresistible, so incredible, that if we truly know, love, and accept him, we won't be able to reject him. We will be literally incapable of turning away from him. So how much more terrible is suicide in that light? Thank God I'm not God.