You could shake all of the contents of the entire series of books into its corners with room to spare: children, fauns, dwarfs, friendly giants, the White Witch, even the great lion. I’m telling you, it is huge!

I refinish furniture for relaxation when I’m not working at the seminary. A few years ago, I began to refinish an old walnut wardrobe that could accommodate all of Narnia… literally. When I started the project, I found it too cold to work in my shop that winter, so I had all the parts—base, cap, sides, back, inner chambers, hardware—scattered throughout the rest of my basement. Did I mention that the wardrobe is huge? It is so gigantic, in fact, that I wasn’t able to get it through the door when completed. I had to re-construct it in the room where it ended up.

The wardrobe almost got the best of me. Alone for hours, up to my elbows in skin-blistering stripper, filthy dirty, the thought actually crossed my mind: Why am I doing this? I could be upstairs reading Narnia rather than down here finding it a new home.

I won’t bore you with the results of such ruminations (brought on by stripper fumes no doubt), except to say that, like perhaps many of you with your methods of relaxation, part of my satisfaction in restoring furniture I attribute to my tendency toward distraction.

To restore furniture—to be a really good furniture refinisher—you have to be a really good daydreamer. You have to let your mind wander back to see the piece of furniture for what it was at one time, the glory days of the piece when it wore its newness so naturally. I wonder about the original creator of the wardrobe. What tools did he use; what obstacles did he have to overcome; what purposes drove him to make such a fine piece?

To see the piece for what it was at one time is key in seeing the piece of furniture for what it could be again. What potential is there in an old beat up wardrobe? Look at it again. Scrape off the blistered old finish, glue back the free edges of veneer, replace the broken hardware and you will see its past, and in seeing its past, you will give it a whole new life.

What I am speaking about, of course, is the act of re-creating something, an act that begs reflection on our human, divinely ordained mandate in Genesis 2. The reader can do this for him or herself while I reflect one more time on my re-created wardrobe. Even when refinished, that old piece bears the marks of its past. I have yet to restore a piece of furniture to its original condition. The beauty of my wardrobe is in the newly applied stain that only partially covers the conspicuous missing chips of veneer. It’s newly found beauty is partially in comparing its past with its new present.

So, why do I bring up my wardrobe? I bring it up because the very same act of re-creation goes on with pastors in their own churches. Without ignoring the wonderful things God is doing with the church planting processes throughout the country, most of us—most of our graduates who leave us—are dealing with old furniture when we consider the churches and other places of ministry we serve. Who of us doesn’t live with years of old varnish and bleached stain when we enter our sanctuaries on Sundays, interact with our leadership, administrate our threadbare programs, or counsel weak and battered members within our church?

What should our expectations be as we seek, through the Spirit, to restore old churches back to usefulness? One of the things we see with some of our students who leave us after their years of study here are well-intended church re-creators who put their newly acquired tools to the task of reshaping old ministry contexts. Their desires to polish these old churches back to new luster are very good. In their tool chest, they may often pull out a newly sharpened church model that, on the surface, would seem to be just the thing to bring new life to these old places.

Then why don’t these old churches polish up? Too often, I am afraid, they—we—who dream about new life in our churches—new programs, new leadership, new potential— seek to change these antiques after our own image without seeing them for what they are, wonderful old places with rich histories of God’s faithfulness. They may have gone astray. They often are filled with old, entrenched leadership. They don’t move very fast. Dump them on the table and you will find tired old programs rolling aimlessly around the edges. We want to change all this and the sooner the better.

But, to be a good daydreamer of these old churches, is there not something to be said for first accepting them for what they are in all their uniqueness, in the context of their rich histories, and with appreciation for what has brought them to their present condition? It seems to me, to be a good restorer of old churches begins first with letting our minds wander back to their glory days. How did they start? Why did they start? In what context were they placed? How has that context changed? What kind of leaders have led these unique churches in the past and how do they represent leadership needs in the present? What kinds of programs worked earlier? Is there a relationship between these kinds of programs and what could be offered, in new ways, in the present?

I wouldn’t trade my house full of old furniture for all the furniture stores full of new furniture in the world. I love old things. I love to re-create old things. To be a re-creator of churches, I think, too, requires that we love, we truly love, old things.

This past Sunday, my husband and I visited one of the largest churches in our city. There was a guest preacher (it is a joke between us that whenever we visit a church, we always get a special occasion and have to go a second time to see what the church is really like!). He chose as his passage Colossians 3:18-21:

Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord Husbands, love your wives and do not be embittered against them. Children, be obedient to your parents in all things, for this is well-pleasing to the Lord. Fathers, do not exasperate your children, so that they will not lose heart.¹

I felt the urge to leave immediately after he read the passage. However, I did not want to be disrespectful. Several other times during the sermon, I again felt the urge to leave, and again forbore. It occurred to me, that as a guest preacher, his choice of this passage was not unintentional, and I wondered if he was preaching the sermon at other churches he visited.

It was no surprise to me that he would preach the traditional subordinationist interpretation of this passage. I was surprised at how far he went to support this view. To show women that it was okay to submit to their husbands and it did not mean they were lesser creatures, he explained that this was like the Trinity: even though the three persons of the Trinity are equal in being, for the purpose of redemption, the second person submitted himself to the first. He left lots of wiggle room when he described this, but I was shocked that he would go to this place to defend his subordinationist position. The subordination of the Son (in His Deity, not just His Humanity) has been condemned as a heresy by the church since the Council of Nicea in 325.² Another subordinationist, in a recent book, asserted that we should not pray to Jesus but only to the Father, since he only is supreme.³

After this, the preacher went on to the other verses here. Once again, I was surprised at where he went in explaining why husbands can be bitter towards their wives (and hence why they are told not to be). He began by saying that the women present should not take offense at what he was about to say, but to hear him out. Then he said: women are manipulative and deceitful and conniving. This was why men needed to work at not being bitter towards their wives. Even as I write this, I can hardly believe it. The saddest part for me was that the women present giggled at this.

The saddest thing of all for me, however, was that this preacher said many, many good things in the course of the sermon. He was encouraging, winsome, scholarly, engaging, and humorous. There was much good to take from his sermon. In my mind, this makes the error all the more insidious and dangerous. My point is about this (which is not specific to the women’s issue): we must ever be discerning in what we receive from teachers and preachers.

Because a preacher or teacher is winsome, humorous, or appears scholarly, this does not mean that we can blindly and indiscriminately accept everything they say. We must always study to show ourselves approved, and be ready to answer anyone who questions our beliefs. We must also, like the Jews at Berea, "search the Scriptures daily to see if these things are so” (Acts 17:11). We cannot abdicate our responsibility to know God’s word and apply it to our lives to anyone else, no matter what their position or status in the church and no matter how scholarly, winsome or engaging they speak (2 Corinthians 11:14). We must each of us take the time to meditate on and study God’s Word so that when we hear someone preaching or teaching, we may discern truth from error, and accept the former and reject the latter. This can be difficult and time-consuming, but the alternative is unthinkable. Let us encourage one another to pursue God’s truth and the discipline of serious study guided by the Holy Spirit, the history of the church, and the community of believers, so we may be discerning even in the context of the most winsome teacher of error.

I confess, in the midst of some of the frantic moments of my day-to-day life, these questions conjure up huge mountains of guilt for me. There are times when all I want to do is crawl into a small dark corner, sit on a soft barker lounge, and escape into the drama of a flat screen television. You know the scene: the diet coke and chips are on my right side, the clicker is on my left side and then… clear as day, I hear those aggravating, sniffling words from my dear old friend, Charles Spurgeon,

The man who never reads will never be read; he who never quotes will never be quoted. He who will not use the thoughts of other men’s brains, proves that he has no brains of his own. Brethren, what is true of ministers is true of all of people. YOU need to read. (#542 Spurgeon Sermon "Paul-His Cloak and His Books” in the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit 9 (1863): 668-669).

Sometimes I just hate Spurgeon.

Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes a date with a barker lounge chair, a diet coke, and a clicker is the right thing to do. Unfortunately, put the three together and they can become a habit, and habits sometimes become preoccupations, and preoccupations sometimes become lifestyles.

So, how do I get out from this corner of guilt that I have painted myself into? Recently, I have begun to approach reading in a new way, new way for me, that is. Actually, my guess is that this approach has been around for a long time and I have just been looking the other way.

For years, I have viewed reading strictly as a solitary enterprise. That is, take the television and clicker away and you would have seen me on that same barker lounge, with the same diet coke, only this time reading alone. What I chose to read was a private affair. How I engaged with the ideas in the book was a private affair. How I used what I learned was a private affair. Everything was private.

All this has changed recently. I am beginning to view reading more communally, that is, as an act of community. For the past two years I have found myself in a monthly reading group and have found the experience liberating for a variety of reasons. First, do you see the rut that follows me wherever I go? Left to my own inclinations, I tend to read the same types of things over and over again. What is it for you? For me it is biographies and historical novels and survival literature. Being a card-carrying member of the group has changed all of this. What we read is a group decision. I have been forced to read things I otherwise would not have read. Go figure, I just read two great books on worship that would have, otherwise, been on the bottom of my reading list.

Further, the book group has allowed me the opportunity to think through what I have read in the company of others. Imagine this; my first reading of a book is not always right! Sometimes in mildly annoying ways, these men have forced me to think differently and creatively. Our reading together has challenged me in ways that would not have been the case if I were reading in solitude. Typically we have walked away from our times together intentionally asking ourselves how the residue of what we have read will stick with us for the long haul. How might the book we just read change us even in small but concrete ways?

Maybe it has something to do with the air in the room that us common readers of books share. Once ideas are floating out there, outside of our individual heads, they somehow become more objective and concrete. We find that none of us are in sole possession of them; they exist separate from us. Like a good tennis match, watching these ideas being batted around from one side of the room to the other has made reading an entirely new sport. I like that.

I work with Christians. I work with non-Christians. I work with people who are questioning. I work with people who are settled in their beliefs. But they are all human beings, made in the image of God. They are all human beings, subject to the Fall. Everyone who walks into my office is a unique creation, made by God in his own image, and fallen into sin. So Christians and non-Christians have many things in common. When someone comes to me for help, I have much from which to draw to help them. I can use what I have learned from the fields of psychology, biology, and medicine because God in his providence calls his Image Bearers to learn from his creation, and gives them the tools they need to do so. It is easy to see how I can apply secular psychology, under the authority of Scripture, to both Christians and non-Christians. But it is also true that I can apply the principles of Scripture to both non-Christians and Christians.

"When in doubt, follow the directions of the manufacturer.” When I buy a new article of clothing, I look at the tag to see how to best care for it to ensure a long life and good wear. This principle applies to human life as well. "When in doubt, follow the directions of the Maker.” God has given us his Word to reveal his salvific plan in history and to give us wisdom in how we should live the life which is his gift to us. The principles of how to live revealed to us in Scripture, as we seek to live them out, will lead us to become the people God intended us to be. It has been my assumption that this means if we follow these principles it will lead us into, among other things, healthier places. And these principles apply to the unbeliever as well as the believer.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:8–9; ESV). One of the basic premises of cognitive behavioral therapy is that to change behavior one must change one’s thoughts which affect one’s emotions which motivates behavior. This applies to both believers and unbelievers.

So when my students ask me how I work with people who are not Christians I point this out. I always use the principles that God has provided us on how to live. With non-Christians I don’t couch them in Christianese or quote chapter and verse. But the principles apply to them as well as to the believers who come to see me. Sometimes, it takes a while for science to catch up with the principles of Scripture but eventually, if the researchers are honest, it does. For example God’s plan and pattern is for men and women to marry, then live together and have sex. It has become ubiquitous in our society for men and women to go in the opposite sequence: have sex, they move in together, and then (maybe) they get married. Science has caught up with God’s plan and found that cohabitation has lots of negative consequences for relationships (see my earlier blog on this topic: Living Together Before Marriage). So if I am providing premarital counseling for a couple and learn they are living together, I will challenge them in this area. If they are Christians I will use both science and Scripture to make my case, if they are not I still have much I can say to them about what is the best way to live to ensure a long and healthy marriage. When I think about counseling, whether Christians or non-Christians, I remember what C.S. Lewis said in The Weight of Glory,

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the all in the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.

Perhaps it was the sound of the banging that jolted me back into the Middle Ages when the seven deadly sins and the great seven heavenly virtues ruled the day. Patience. That’s what I need more of. (Patience…and a better memory. Upon further research, patience is not one of the original virtues, but for our sake here, let’s say it is one of the great eight heavenly virtues…but I digress).

Imagine, the Christian virtue of patience is now being defined by the length of time that it takes for me to blink my eyes. My entire psychological makeup—to say nothing of my sense of spirituality—now hangs on the thin millisecond thread that strings together my past to my present to my future. My understanding of God and His omnipresence is being redefined. My ability to trust patiently in Him is being reworked.

And then I thought about my grandfather, the potato farmer from Minnesota. What did patience look like to him during the early part of last century? How did he live up to his moral obligations to God and his friends and family during those lean years during the 1930-1940’s? For Enoch Bjork, patience was like a long-legged farm dog stretching out before a fire on a cold winter night. Once the dog got down on the floor it seemed like it took an entire day for him to untangle himself and throw his long appendages into all corners of the room.

For my grandfather, patience was measured by the seasons. In his mind, it started in spring when he put in his corn and it was tested all the way to the fall when he—hopefully—saw some fruit from his labor. The winter in between stretched out as a long, cold interlude that never seemed to end.

I wonder what it was like before clocks when Middle Age man lacked the capacity to look down at his wrist, at any given moment, to measure with precision how his day was passing. Imagine how he ordered his day—as it moved from past moment to present to future—without this basic technology that allowed time to pass before his very eyes. More to the point, I wonder what it meant for him to be patient without an instrument to measure patience.

Neil Postman has it right in his book, Technopoly, when he says that all technologies possess inherent ideological biases. They are not neutral tools but they shape us in ways we cannot begin to imagine. Just imagine, the presence of a simple piece of technology like the watch has altered our ability to be patient. Just imagine, I am banging on my computer because time is no longer fast enough. Just imagine (but I digress).