Parenthood's Purest Desires
"Then Elkanah her husband said to her, "Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? And why is your heart grieved? Am I not better to you than ten sons?" 1 Samuel 1:8
"I wanted to be the fourth member of the Trinity," admits Steven Curtis Chapman in Heaven in the Real World, "in my wife's life."
He has company in that unholy aspiration. Yet, for instance, in Elkanah's thoughtless marital obtuseness in 1 Samuel 1:8, I find a strange comfort today. Elkanah was unfit to fill all the broken places in his wife that fulfillment in child rearing might have addressed. Steven Curtis Chapman already knows he cannot aspire to be the fourth member of the Trinity as husband to his wife. And yet, Scripture rightly sets the Lord Jesus as the fulfillment of what from Elkanah's lips was a hollow boast.
In a desire for children, men and women want to leave a legacy. In Christ, this is already fulfilled whether we have physical children or not. Do we know whether the woman who anointed Christ's feet with oil had children? We don't, but we know her story will be co-mingled with his for as long as the Gospel is told, which is to say forever. Even if physical sons and daughters were to behave exactly according to the wishes of our pride, and Alexis de Tocqueville says this is a desperate trap which sabotages many otherwise loving acts, we could not have the kind of assurance Christ gives us here.
In a desire for children, men and women seek a gradual, incremental revelation of the image and character of God, whether we phrase the desire exactly that way or not. With Christ in us, the hope of glory, we can through His eyes begin to see that sort of progress in ourselves as we act more according to His Spirit. Even better, perhaps, as we gather in community with His progressing spiritual infants, who can be people of all ages, we can celebrate the tottering stages of maturation as He celebrates them. Even if we for an instant had Christ's holistic perspective on the escape of spiritual warfare, we can also have His joy in the Spirit in the little victories of those He gathers around us.
In seeking children, men and women are addressing a hard desire for what the Bible refers to as dominion. Eve is our mother in this as in so much else. Giving birth to Cain, she proclaims in Genesis 4:1 in wonder, "With God's help, I have created a man!" Just before the world, the flesh, and the devil corrupt dominion with a crushing sense that anything worthwhile depends on us and would fall apart without us, there is a more balanced moment of realizing God has entrusted us with responsibility, would make the difference between the "before," and the, "after." Parents or aspiring parents want to look at the more immature stages of their baby or their child, reflect on them, and understand with satisfaction that they have played a part in supplying guidance and provision.
The apostle Paul is almost the last guy to take this sanctified sense and twist it so that his work is his worth. Safe from the distortion, though, he addresses the same desire parents do in his ministry. Very often, he opens his letters with a reflection of how glad he is with thinking about the ways God has used his work to help his spiritual "children" grow. When I started with you, he will bauble honestly you were here. You were fearful. You were dependent on me. You were confused. Now, reflecting the sense of dominion that is possible by grace, and in more roles than just physical parenthood, Paul reflects with satisfaction on his personal impact.
In the overarching realities of the Spirit, then, parenthood is only one angle one viewing God's glory in and through us. Christ is the better, eternal Husband. He is better to us than the roles He might allow us to play. He can satisfy desires that even the most meaningful parenthood cannot.
"I wanted to be the fourth member of the Trinity," admits Steven Curtis Chapman in Heaven in the Real World, "in my wife's life."
He has company in that unholy aspiration. Yet, for instance, in Elkanah's thoughtless marital obtuseness in 1 Samuel 1:8, I find a strange comfort today. Elkanah was unfit to fill all the broken places in his wife that fulfillment in child rearing might have addressed. Steven Curtis Chapman already knows he cannot aspire to be the fourth member of the Trinity as husband to his wife. And yet, Scripture rightly sets the Lord Jesus as the fulfillment of what from Elkanah's lips was a hollow boast.
In a desire for children, men and women want to leave a legacy. In Christ, this is already fulfilled whether we have physical children or not. Do we know whether the woman who anointed Christ's feet with oil had children? We don't, but we know her story will be co-mingled with his for as long as the Gospel is told, which is to say forever. Even if physical sons and daughters were to behave exactly according to the wishes of our pride, and Alexis de Tocqueville says this is a desperate trap which sabotages many otherwise loving acts, we could not have the kind of assurance Christ gives us here.
In a desire for children, men and women seek a gradual, incremental revelation of the image and character of God, whether we phrase the desire exactly that way or not. With Christ in us, the hope of glory, we can through His eyes begin to see that sort of progress in ourselves as we act more according to His Spirit. Even better, perhaps, as we gather in community with His progressing spiritual infants, who can be people of all ages, we can celebrate the tottering stages of maturation as He celebrates them. Even if we for an instant had Christ's holistic perspective on the escape of spiritual warfare, we can also have His joy in the Spirit in the little victories of those He gathers around us.
In seeking children, men and women are addressing a hard desire for what the Bible refers to as dominion. Eve is our mother in this as in so much else. Giving birth to Cain, she proclaims in Genesis 4:1 in wonder, "With God's help, I have created a man!" Just before the world, the flesh, and the devil corrupt dominion with a crushing sense that anything worthwhile depends on us and would fall apart without us, there is a more balanced moment of realizing God has entrusted us with responsibility, would make the difference between the "before," and the, "after." Parents or aspiring parents want to look at the more immature stages of their baby or their child, reflect on them, and understand with satisfaction that they have played a part in supplying guidance and provision.
The apostle Paul is almost the last guy to take this sanctified sense and twist it so that his work is his worth. Safe from the distortion, though, he addresses the same desire parents do in his ministry. Very often, he opens his letters with a reflection of how glad he is with thinking about the ways God has used his work to help his spiritual "children" grow. When I started with you, he will bauble honestly you were here. You were fearful. You were dependent on me. You were confused. Now, reflecting the sense of dominion that is possible by grace, and in more roles than just physical parenthood, Paul reflects with satisfaction on his personal impact.
In the overarching realities of the Spirit, then, parenthood is only one angle one viewing God's glory in and through us. Christ is the better, eternal Husband. He is better to us than the roles He might allow us to play. He can satisfy desires that even the most meaningful parenthood cannot.
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