Even at Walmart

I hope you don’t mind, but I have marriage on the brain this morning. Jennifer and I will celebrate our 26th wedding anniversary this week.

I don’t know about you, but the further we travel into marriage’s future, the more content it seems we are to let the occasion be the occasion amid life being life. In other words, we’ll likely go out for dinner to celebrate, but we’ll also just as likely stop at Walmart on the way home for milk, cereal, toilet paper, or anything else a family of six might need. It sounds inconsequential, I know. Some people celebrate by going on trips. Others spend lavish amounts on gifts. That’s not really our way. Last year, we hoped to get away for a few days (since it was our 25th anniversary), but too many other things prevented us from doing so. Several weddings were scheduled, the English District Convention occurred, Vacation Bible School unfolded, and a whole host of other obligations landed on us. We barely managed to sneak away for dinner on a day close to our actual anniversary.

In the end, I think Jen and I have realized that no matter what we might do to celebrate, one exceptional day, while nice, can never really outmatch the everyday blessings we enjoy. Theodor Seuss Geisel—better known as Dr. Suess—was close to describing what I mean when he said, “You know you are in love when you don’t want to fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” I get his point. There’s very little that exceeds love’s discovery. In its moments, life and its possibilities exceed imagination.

One problem with Geisel’s words is that they don’t completely emerge from emotion’s shifting realm. I’d be on board if he defined reality as a willingness to completely spend oneself for the other in both good and bad times. That would better describe the profound mystery of marital love. It’s one reason why the traditional marriage vows include phrases like “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health….” By the way, in my experience, people who choose to write their own marriage vows, typically turn them into syrupy emotional goo, ultimately missing the mark on what the vows are designed to communicate. For the record, don’t even think about writing your own vows if you want me to preside over your wedding. The longstanding traditional ones are more than sufficient, mainly because they do a fine job of communicating a commitment to something other than self. Two phrases, in particular, cement this commitment: “till death us do part” and “according to God’s holy will.” The previous phrases of the vow set reality’s tempo, acknowledging that there will be good times and bad times. These two insist that emotional love—purely human love—is not equipped to navigate real life to its very end. But love aligned with God’s will is. Love aligned with God’s will can stare death in the face.

Jesus told us straightforwardly what God’s will is. He said, “For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (John 6:38-40). These words are not far from Jesus’ gentle description to Nicodemus of why God would send His Son in the first place: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:16-17).

God knew that human love would be forever insufficient. Loving God and neighbor rightly—the Law’s strict demand—would never be met. But God’s love can do it. And so, that same love moved Him to send His Son. Christ fulfills the demand by His perfect life according to the Law and His sacrificial death on the cross. Jesus demonstrates that God’s love is a perfectly committed, selfless love. It insists that no matter what’s required, the self will never mean more than one’s beloved, even if it means completely emptying itself of all divine prerogatives and going down with the ship in death. Christ did this. And why? Because He loves you. This love is epicentral to His will. Taking a spouse “according to God’s holy will” is to pledge that God’s redeeming love—His forgiveness—will be the marriage’s template. When this is true, a marriage can steer through and around obstacles that might otherwise terrify human love.

But still, there’s more.

Regardless of what the culture believes, God established marriage. He owns it. As such, and whether anyone realizes it, His will naturally permeates its design. First and foremost, marriage is to be a divine snapshot of the Gospel. Saint Paul says as much, describing marriage as a mysterious image of Christ, the Groom, and the Church, the bride—an otherworldly relationship established and maintained by impenetrable commitment. It begins with the One who submits Himself to the death of deaths for the bride. Empowered by that Gospel love, it results in the bride submitting herself in all things, not as one cruelly shackled to an overlord, but as one who loves the Groom for all that He is and has done to make her His own (Ephesians 5:1-2, 22-33).

In a natural law sense, God’s inherent will remains. Marriage is the essential building block of every society throughout human history. The union of one man and one woman—inseparably committed and typically producing children—provides worldwide stability. Everything necessary for an ordered perpetuating society can be found within marriage’s boundaries. Saint Paul hints at how important societal order is when he instructs Timothy to pray for and intercede with the authorities put in place to manage it. He insists Christians do these things so that “we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:2-3).

Paul’s point: God wants societal order so that the Gospel will spread.

Marriage not only stabilizes societies, but it is a fundamental conduit in each for communicating the Gospel from one generation to the next. When a society’s marriages begin steering away from God’s holy will—when devotion to self overtakes commitment to spouse and children, when marriage’s biological components become confused, when its sanctity becomes negotiable or irrelevant—the blocks begin to crumble, and the conduits fracture. When that happens, the Gospel—the message of the only kind of love that lasts into and through death—begins slipping into obscurity, eventually securing societal doom.

As I said, Jennifer and I will celebrate 26 years next week. We’ll likely celebrate by doing something special together. Still, even if we don’t—even if life suddenly gets in the way—the marriage won’t be any lesser than before. This is only true because the marriage is “according to God’s holy will.” With His love ordering each of our days, the inevitable road through a reality of good and bad, fading physicality, and unpredictable emotional seasons will continue to prove far better than dreams. It’s the kind of love that finds itself just as refreshed and content holding hands in the breakfast cereal section at Walmart as it does in a classy restaurant.

Gaslighting

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Today the people of God at Our Savior Lutheran Church in Hartland, Michigan, will celebrate the 67th anniversary of the congregation’s founding. We’ll enjoy receiving Rev. Dr. Peter Scaer as the preacher of the Gospel in holy worship, and then we’ll be blessed by his faithfulness with God’s Word in the adult Bible study hour. If you know anything about Dr. Scaer, then you’ll know he’s a modest man, someone who gives himself over in humble service to the Gospel. But he’s also someone willing to go on point with God’s Word against an ever-encroaching world. I’m glad he was willing to join us. We will be blessed by his efforts.

Looking back at what I just typed, I used the word “modesty.” I did so probably because of the text I just read this morning from Romans 12:2.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

“…be transformed…”

“…discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

These words assume a turning away from “self.” They assume submission to a process designed to align a person to God’s preferences. The scriptures are clear that this submission is only possible by the power of the Holy Spirit at work in a believer (John 1:9-13; Romans 1:16; John 15:16; Ephesians 2:19-22; 1 Corinthians 12:13). In other words, we don’t choose to submit to God’s will. By the Gospel, He transforms us. This transformation creates within us a humble acceptance of His will and way as better. Genuine modesty is an outcropping of this humility.

Even apart from faith, I’m guessing that modesty is a recognizable virtue and that most normal people aren’t opposed to demonstrating it. This is true in the sense of modesty’s social definition, which is most often visible when someone is praised. In such a moment, the person deflects by underestimating what he or she has done. Of course, plenty of people are modest in the way Lord Chesterfield humorously described to his son: “Modesty is the only sure bait when you angle for praise.” I experienced this type of soft braggadocio with someone already this past week.

From another perspective, I’d say that most normal people also practice modesty in the sense that they do everything they can to avoid the appearance of indecency. But again, dwelling among those normal people are also the ones who use humility to hide their truest character, epitomizing the saying, “You have no idea what a poor opinion I have of myself—and how I, by no means, deserve it.”

I guess what I’m saying is that in both instances, modesty can be genuine, and it can be counterfeit.

Jennifer has been reading a lot about gaslighting, which is an abusive tactic that’s on the rise in our world. I’m guessing it’s always been around (because Sin, while it is very creative, tends to rely on the same essential formulas for getting humans to hurt one another), but it didn’t really get its colloquial tag until 1995 when it was coined by a columnist—and the columnist took it from the 1944 film entitled “Gaslight.” I’m betting that gaslighting is gathering a footing for normalcy today because of society’s ever-increasing run toward full blown narcissism.

Again, Jennifer has been investigating the behavior because she wants our kids to be equipped for identifying and countering it in relationships. Gaslighters are incredibly toxic people. Uneasy contention follows them everywhere they go. This is often true because they are incredibly controlling people who bear a self-perception of never being wrong. This, then, results in the meticulous reframing of reality to the point of making their victims question their own versions of reality.

“Maybe I’m not remembering the sequence of events correctly,” a person will eventually say after regular interactions with a gaslighter.

“Maybe what this person did to hurt me really isn’t that big of a deal,” another will wonder. “Maybe I’m being overly sensitive.”

“Maybe I didn’t do things the right way,” still another will self-inquire. “Maybe I actually screwed everything up royally.”

In all these instances, gaslighting weaponizes the modesty of the one wielding it, keeping itself hidden behind an artificial humility that does what it can to reshape narratives to achieve its goal with little resistance. A gaslighter is skillful at making conflict appear to be the fault of the victim, while at the same time convincing the victim that the efforts of the gaslighter are noble and in the victim’s best interest. Meanwhile, the victim discovers his or her own humility being turned backward in indictment, often resulting in some pretty ridiculous behaviors—like accepting the abuser’s false narratives as real, and then apologizing to the abuser for the hurt the victim believes he or she has caused.

I’m glad Jennifer is taking the time to gear up with this stuff and is passing it along to our kids. It’s becoming more likely they’ll experience this behavior, and if so, they’ll need to know how to deal with it—whether that means direct confrontation, or by keeping certain relationships at arm’s length.

But enough about gaslighting, because that’s not necessarily what I had on the brain this morning.

Stepping from Chesterfield’s above comment about modesty, I’m wondering if the best way to test the genuineness of a person’s humility is not necessarily by way of praise, but by accusation. In other words, when a person does something that appears good, modesty—real or fake—reacts by turning the spotlight away to others for equal credit. If the same reaction occurs when the person is accused of sinful behavior, then I wonder if the person’s modesty is as sturdy as he or she would have us believe.

Although, if I’m being honest, which of us can accept the revelation of our sins gracefully? Not too many. And why? Well, for one, I mentioned before that our society is running headlong into narcissism. Narcissists are incapable of seeing themselves as flawed. And if, for some reason, they discover an unsavory quality within themselves, it’s typically cast as someone else’s fault for being there.

“I cuss so much because my parents did.”

“I belittle my wife because she does things to irritate me.”

Well, whatever. Just know that whether a person realizes it or not, ultimately, these excuses are aimed at God. When you blame your own sins on someone else—or worse, you claim your sins and the behavior born from them are justifiable—you are calling God a liar. God’s Word considers this to be one of the grossest affronts perpetuated by the sinful flesh because it gaslights God, telling Him that what He knows to be true isn’t (1 John 1:8-10).

Once again, today, Our Savior Evangelical Lutheran Church in Hartland is celebrating her 67th anniversary. It’s good for us as a family of believers to remember that the deepest purpose of this congregation over the course of the past 67 years has been to wrestle against straying from truth. It has been almost seven decades of fighting the urge to lie to anyone—ourselves included—about the precariousness of the predicament we face as sinners. It has been to readily accept that while we may try to hide our self-centeredness from others, we cannot conceal it from the One who will measure us according to His divine standards at the hour of our last breath. It has been to understand that the harm we cause to others, whether intentionally or unintentionally, is always a sign of something deep within us that, apart from faith, we really have no power to uproot and remove. But it has also been an expanse of years dedicated to preaching, teaching, and administering the solution to this Sin problem. It has been nothing short of 804 months of Christ crucified and raised for transgressors in order that those same offenders would be transformed and equipped for desiring God’s reality, God’s holy will (Romans 12:2). It has been 24,472 days of being remade into the likeness of the One who gave Himself over into death that we would have life to the fullest (John 10:10).

Life to the fullest.

This doesn’t mean a life of health, wealth, and ease. Sure, these things may come, but so will struggle. Life to the fullest means the ability to hold fast to Christ in joy and sorrow, Godly pleasure and pain, all the while being carried along through our years wrapped up in the truth that we are sinners in need of a Savior, and that Savior, Jesus Christ, has come. A full life is one that believes these things for eternal life. A full life has no end.

Modesty in this life born from and acted out according to the reality of Law and Gospel, Sin and Grace, will always be divinely genuine.