From Worldview to World News

On Love Thy Body, by Nancy Pearcey

I’ve often felt confused, saddened, and angered, all at once, about the state of our culture’s ethics. From abortion to gender transition to racism, the value of life and sense of self hang in the balance. But to be more than just reactionary and to grow in compassion, I’ve wanted to understand the thinking behind these issues. 

A moral action is not simply an isolated or random decision; a worldview has informed it, shaped it, expected it. Even if someone cannot articulate it, a certain worldview upholds their behavior. Nancy Pearcey writes in Love Thy Body, “Every practice comes with a worldview attached to it - one that many of us might not find true or attractive if we were aware of it.”  

Pearcey explains our current cultural worldview through a two-story building analogy, which she credits to Francis Schaeffer. Each story represents a division in worldview priority: science & facts in one story, vs. morality & values in the other. Throughout the book, she illustrates how this division exists in the popular cultural mindset as person vs. body. A person “has moral and legal standing” and the body is “an expendable biological organism”. From this worldview, actions once seen as immoral can be applauded by society as long as they support science over morality or the person over the body. 

I believe her writing can equip followers of Jesus to have: 

• more informed, compassionate conversations

• confidence that a biblical worldview unites the categories that our culture says are at odds with each other 

“May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” 

1 Thessalonians 5:23

Prayers for my kids

When our kids began to reach school-age, we were living abroad. It was a country famous for polar opposites: a people of generosity and strong relationships, constantly threatened by robberies, muggings and carjackings.  They welcomed us with open arms, yet every house stood locked behind walls and bars. 

The threat was real, and when my husband was eventually car-jacked, it was merely our entrance into their reality. But the danger deepened when it came to sending our oldest to school.  He carries an epi-pen for anaphylactic food allergies, and in this foreign school, his teachers had never seen an epi-pen before. 

My anxiety in this context surfaced rapidly, and “unsafe” was my mantra.  Nothing was safe - not the streets, our neighborhood, the people, their school, the food.  A long commentary on this season in my life could be written, but what I hope can be helpful for this moment are the prayers I learned to pray then and still pray now regarding our kids.  

These are cries that first came from a heart overwhelmed with panic, just trying to make it through the hours; they’re not prayers from a heart that had it all figured out. Every day back then, as I sent my oldest off to school, it was an act of faith, and every day he came home, it was a gift. 

And we’re reminded, dear parent, family member, and care-giver, that it still is. If you find yourself wrapped up in inescapable anxiety over your kids, may one of these simple prayers resonate with you.

A prayer for when I’m with my children: 

Help me love them fully in the moment, because it’s really all I have.

A prayer for when I’m not with my children:

Help me release control, because I have actually never had it.

A prayer for when I sense my limitations:

Help me remember that I am just mom; only You are God. Your love, understanding, and control exceed mine.

A prayer for perspective:

Stir up a longing in me for that place where tragedy never strikes.  Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

Luke 10:38-42

Like disciples in a storm-tossed boat, we question God’s care when things are physically difficult and threatening (see previous blog post), but, perhaps even more regularly, we find ourselves asking that question in everyday circumstances not directly connected to danger.  Thankfully, we’re given another story that hits home. 

This time, when a follower of Jesus asks him, don’t you care?, it isn’t because they’re about to drown in the sea.  On the contrary, it’s a domestic setting in a woman’s home, likely rich with the aroma of freshly-baked bread and expertly-pressed wine. It’s a gathering of friends, robust with conversation, centered around Jesus’ teaching. 

It’s not difficult to imagine the scene if you’ve ever hosted a group of people, and it’s not hard to put yourself in Martha’s sandals if you had siblings growing up, if you’re raising kids, or if your workload has ever seemed unfair. Additionally, in a place where gender roles in society strictly defined social norms, Martha could be justifiably critical of Mary’s actions.

Luke clearly contrasts the two sisters: Mary sat at Jesus’ feet to listen to His teaching; Martha was distracted with much serving. Vine's Expository Dictionary explains that the word distracted means “to be driven about mentally”.  Her preparations, planning, inviting, serving, hosting - on top of whatever normal routines she had - created a mental storm that contrasted with Mary’s sitting at Jesus’ feet. Martha’s “much serving” took priority over much sitting in His presence. 

Jesus described Martha with two words when she asked if He cared. The NIV translates them as worried and upset; the ESV uses anxious and troubled. The first descriptor is common among Jesus’ teachings, but the second word is used only here in the New Testament. Thayer’s Greek Lexicon describes it as “troubled in mind, disturbed, disquieted.” More mental storm.

Martha was engulfed in the wave of what she thought was necessary to have Jesus in her presence. But Jesus wanted her to sit in His presence. He wasn’t looking for a gourmet meal or a white-gloved house; in fact, He commended Mary for choosing for herself the biggest slice of the pie, the best part of the meal - His presence - which He would not take from her by sending her to the kitchen.

He cares more that you’re sitting in His presence than if you’re serving up your house specialty on a silver platter. What part of your serving is a self-inflicted mental storm, as if that’s what it takes to be with Jesus?

Mark 4:35-41

“Don’t you care?” is a question we ask when someone could do something but doesn’t. The question implies that they noticed an obvious problem - and perhaps they even observed others’ futile efforts to solve it - but they opted out of helping.  When that happens, it shifts the focus off of the initial issue and raises doubts about the heart of the one doing nothing. We conclude that if they cared, they would step in; therefore, they must not care.

The first time Jesus’ followers asked this question of Him, was during a storm. After a long day of teaching in parables, Jesus got into a boat with his disciples to cross to the other side of the sea. He fell asleep on the way.  When the wind and waves threatened to sink the boat, the disciples frantically woke the Son of God, who had succumbed to sheer exhaustion. I imagine them soaked and screaming, don’t you care that we are perishing? 

Threats on our well-being, natural disasters, uncontrollable forces, freak accidents - God, are you sleeping? How can you do nothing about this? At least grab a bucket and tie down the sail!  Don’t you care that we are perishing?

Wasn’t Jesus’ care the very reason he was lying there in their creaking, weathered boat in the first place? Because they were perishing. So He came that whoever would believe in Him, would not perish. 

When I question the heart of God with, Don’t you care?, I'm assuming that He must be fickle like His prophet, Jonah - uncaring and asleep on the job in the middle of a storm.  God had sent Jonah because God pitied a perishing city; God sent Jesus because He so loved the perishing world. Jonah didn’t care to bring God’s message of mercy to an enemy that might receive it; Jesus had just spent the day preaching it to a people who would reject it. Jonah fled from God’s presence; Jesus was God, present. The storm was punishment for Jonah’s disobedience; the storm would be proof of Jesus’ identity. The storm calmed when Jonah was swallowed by it; the storm calmed when Jesus spoke to it. 

Someone who cares more than Jonah has come.

“...casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

Hebrews 11:7-40

It seems unfair to summarize someone’s life in a paragraph or to depict them as a character in flannelgraph, but so goes the fame of faith. It was never about them. 

Verse 7. Noah hadn’t ever experienced the type of weather or severe judgment that God told him was ahead, but he didn’t need to have a perfect idea of what was coming before diligently spending decades of his life in preparation. God gave him enough information to commit to the task in front of him. 

I so often want to calculate every possible outcome, understand all that will be required, or draw from at least a partial experience of something before putting in effort toward obedience. But to have faith like Noah, I would begin right now with what I know, tools I have, and burdens I carry. 

Faith prepares in the present for an unclear future.

Verses 8-16. Abraham picked up and left the place he called home, not sure where he’d end up, yet certain that God had called. Even after he and his family arrived in the Promised Land, they lived like gypsies, ready to move when necessary, open-handed on their idea of home. They didn’t look back as if returning to where they came from would be the solution to the longing in their hearts. 

Moving is unnatural for me - as common as it has become in my own story - and I can only release my grip on staying when I’m convinced that home is still up ahead.  

Faith redefines home to be at home on the journey toward it. 

Verses 11-22; 29-40.  Pregnancy in old age, resurrection from death, counter-cultural blessings, freedom from slavery, parting of the waters, destruction of city walls…all of these were supernatural human experiences, only resulting from promises God made. But they were just glimpses into what God had promised in Jesus and what He promises is still ahead for all of His followers.

Atypical could be a one-word summary of God’s promises; otherwise we might take credit, and otherwise, there would be no need for faith. When I find myself resisting God because “the world just doesn’t work this way”, it’s an indicator I’m probably not living by faith.  

Faith leans into the strength of God’s promises more than the limits of normalcy. 

Verses 23-28. Moses’ parents could have faced Pharaoh’s retaliation for concealing Moses’ birth, because they had been commanded to kill him. But they acted consistent with who they were as the people of God rather than bowing to a human decree.  Later, Moses himself denied his royal Egyptian rights and privileges and instead chose to follow the ways of his real King.

Many times, my walk of faith has led to a split in the road, and I haven’t always chosen well like Moses and his parents.  I’ve often picked the path of my own comfort over the path of my conviction as a follower of Jesus, and it’s fear that rules when I do.  

Faith defies fear by acting on conviction instead of comfort.  

I don’t play basketball any better after visiting the hall of fame, because the players all had something I do not, no matter how hard I practice. But we’re reminded in Hebrews 11, that we are the ones who have something these people did not have:

We know the end of the story of faith. 

We relate to the Savior of our faith. 

We walk in His Spirit who empowers our faith. 

Unlike any hall of fame, this record serves to equip the ones who walk its halls to keep going forward by faith.