by Elizabeth | May 10, 2013 | Learning Story
I have the great privilege of teaching on Galatians 2 this Sunday. It’s a convoluted chapter in some ways, and I admit, I had to read it about 5 times to break down what Paul was saying. (I also needed to read the background of what was going on, because Galatians, after all, is a letter written in response to the Galatians’ movement toward doing things that they thought would make them right, and the author, Paul, is answering certain accusations against him that they already know about.
After studying the passage, I reread part of Martin Luther’s commentary on Galatians, and came again to this. “Passive righteousness” is the heavy-duty term for the reality that Christ in his death and resurrection made us right with God, something we could never do for ourselves. I love the fact that Luther says it is a “mystery” that we cannot ever completely understand it — because I find myself teaching it sometimes and thinking, “but wait, how can this be…does this even make sense?” And I guess the answer is, that in our limited, fallen way of thinking, it really doesn’t. But enough from me, listen to how well Luther talks about our human tendency to want to be right, and the problems that raises:
“2. The need for Christian righteousness
This “passive” righteousness is a mystery that the world cannot understand. Indeed,
Christians never completely understand it themselves, and thus do not take advantage
of it when they are troubled and tempted. So we have to constantly teach it, repeat it,
and work it out in practice. Anyone who does not understand this righteousness or
cherish it in the heart and conscience will continually be buffeted by fears and
depression. Nothing gives peace like this passive righteousness.
For human beings by nature, when they get near either danger or death itself, will of
necessity examine their own worthiness. We defend ourselves before all threats by
recounting our good deeds and moral efforts. But then the remembrance of sins and
flaws inevitably comes to mind, and this tears us apart, and we think, “How many
errors and sins and wrongs I have done! Please God, let me live so I can fix and amend
them.” We become obsessed with our active righteousness and are terrified by its
imperfections. But the real evil is that we trust our own power to be righteous and will
not lift up our eyes to see what Christ has done for us… So the troubled conscience
has no cure for its desperation and feeling of unworthiness unless it takes hold of the
forgiveness of sins by grace, offered free of charge in Jesus Christ, which is this
passive or Christian righteousness… If I tried to fulfill the law myself, I could not trust in
what I had accomplished, neither could it stand up to the judgment of God. So…I rest
only upon the righteousness of Christ… which I do not produce but receive, God the
Father freely giving it to us through Jesus Christ.
by Elizabeth | Apr 30, 2013 | Learning Story
A few weeks ago, after the first session of A Woman’s Story conference, I was introduced to a woman who told me, “I can think of six or seven of God’s ‘miraculous deeds’ I saw that day.” She was talking about when she ran the Boston marathon and was turned around at mile 25. Read her story here.
by Elizabeth | Apr 29, 2013 | Learning Story
I like for Mondays to be super-productive work days. This selection from Daily Strength for Daily Needs both challenged and encouraged me.
“The Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto.” Deut. 15:10
“I think I find most help in trying to look on all interruptions and hindrances to work that one has planned out for oneself as discipline, trials sent by God to help one against getting selfish over one’s work. Then one can feel that perhaps one’s true work — one’s work for God — consists in doing some trifling haphazard thing that has been thrown into one’s day. It is not waste of time, as one is tempted to think, it is the most important part of the work of the day — the part one can best offer to God. After such a hindrance, do not rush after the planned work; trust that the time to finish it will be given sometime, and keep a quiet heart about it.” Annie Keary (A British novelist who lived in the 1800’s, ran a home for young girls, and cared for numerous family members).
How do you respond when there are interruptions to your day?
Are you a real task-oriented person, determined to get your to-do list accomplished, or do you tend to go with the flow more?
Take this moment to remember in prayer that God is working in you and designing your day.
by Elizabeth | Apr 11, 2013 | Learning Story
Here’s a follow-up from Wednesday’s musings about the nature of men and women as defined by creation. This is from Gary Thomas’s Sacred Influence.
“The Bible affirms women in a way that was quite radical for the time in which it
was written. The Old Testament stepped outside of its cultural milieu to insist that women mirror God’s own character and image just as fully as do their male counterparts: ‘So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them” (Gen. 1:27). Right from the start, we learn that women and men together mirror the image of God. Males, by themselves, are not up to the task; since God is above gender, males alone (or females alone) fail to adequately represent his character and image.”
“Just as tellingly, the admonition to act on this world, shape this world, and even to rule over this world is ggiven to women just as much as it is to men: “God blessed them [the man and the woman] and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fisth of the sea snd the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground’” (Genesis 1:28, emphasis added).
Women are not told to sit passively on the sidelines and cheer for their husbands as the men run the show. On the contrary, from the very beginning women share God’s command for humans to rule, subdue, and manage this earth. They are co-regents.”
by Elizabeth | Apr 9, 2013 | Learning Story
I’m back to the beginning; a place I often visit to be astonished by the gallery of God’s brilliant design in creating the universe, and in particular, humankind, man and woman. Having just prepared a Sunday school lesson on atheism for our high school seniors, I am aware that even the words “God’s brilliant design in creating the universe” may stop some people in their tracks, but I’ll leave that topic for now.
What I am always wowed by is the countercultural statements about male and female in the beginning of the Bible that carry throughout. And, knowing that I’m teaching in a few weeks about the implications for women of Creation, I think of my audience. Some will object to the naming of the deep value and co-dominion assigned to women; others will have a big problem with the differentiation of male and female. Some early Church fathers (what wine were they drinking!) made some pretty radical and rotten statements about the dark nature of women. Some mothers of the early feminist movement have countered with their assertions that women could get along much better if only men disappeared from their world.
In light of all of this, it is a great joy and essential discipline to read it all again for the very first time, even for those who don’t believe, and contemplate the possibilities and realities. Here it is, one click away. What are some statements that really stand out for you as you read?
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis%201-2&version=ESV
by Elizabeth | Mar 21, 2013 | Learning Story

How do we find the beauty in stories that feel like they’ve uprooted us from what we thought we knew?
I love our Sarah Sisterhood, because I am surrounded by brave-hearted women willing to struggle together to understand the hope of the gospel in every story, especially the broken ones. Today’s gathering sent me back this post on broken stories.
What do we do with the pain of a broken story? For the pain in my shoulder, most days I just want relief. I want it to go away. But when I’m in my “best desperation,” I want God — “in healing or not-healing” as I once prayed. Yesterday, I read a story Larry Crabb shared in SoulTalk. He draws me to pray that I won’t settle for anything less than God’s heart.
Dear friends called him for counsel regarding their sixteen-year-old daughter. She had just told them that she had had an abortion a month ago. For them, as it would be for many of us, it was the death of a story they had written about their family and for their daughter. As Crabb points out, there are lots of good Christian ways of responding to such a tragedy – praying, having long talks, calling a counselor. The danger, he points out, is missing the crucial question that we should really all be asking all the time. [This is my translation of his point]: What are we trying to do in the midst of this broken story? Are we just trying to find all the pieces in the shredder and glue them back together again? Or – a far more gospel response – are we desperate to know God’s heart more deeply through this event? Are we willing to confess things like, “I’ve wanted my daughter to live the story I scripted for her, and I’m not really interested in what you have in mind, God”? Or, will we dive into the mess with humility, praying something like this, as Crabb writes,
“God, we plead with you to restore our daughter to wholeness in Christ. But if that never happens, we declare today that the deepest longing of our hearts is to know and enjoy and reveal you to others. Free us in our brokenness to celebrate your receiving grace as we approach you, to depend on the Son’s redeeming grace as we face our sin and move forward, and to become sensitive to the Spirit’s rhythmic grace as we enter the battle for our daughter’s soul.”