GOD'S SOVEREIGNTY AND MAN'S RESPONSIBILITY

The following is a note to my Sunday school teacher regarding our discussions on Open Theism which we believe to be the greatest threat to orthodox Christianity in general. The discussion centers around our study of Erwin Lutzer's book Ten Lies About God. Last week's dialogue tended to focus on God's abosolute control of all things. Since the pendulum has swung wildly in Christian history and there is a tendancy toward overcorrections, I had the following concerns.



As promised, I have a general question about the consequence of an overemphasis on the sovereignty of God to the detriment of man’s responsibility.I know that God is absolutely sovereign over the universe from its smallest quark to its most mammoth star. Studying our solar system alone is enough to cause us to marvel at the precise order which makes it possible for life to exist here on Earth and only here – for now. God’s sovereignty is also obvious in the disorder because we know that even when we can view asteroids darting across the sky and sometimes crashing into the earth, God is in control. So, I do believe God is sovereign in all. The order and the disorder; the good as well as the evil. However, if all we focus on is God’s absolute sovereignty without discussing the obvious Scriptures relating to man’s responsibility, we are creating the atmosphere, which I believe, leads to a sort of pessimism about the relevance of our actions in response to God.

In the interest of a defense against open theism I do understand the necessity of making sure that we all comprehend just how in control God is. Nothing in this existence is left to chance with our God. However, I have always been taught, in Bible believing churches, that while God is sovereign, man is responsible. For whatever reason, God has given us a measure of freedom to make decisions that we hope are consistent with his desired will and even when they are not, they are consistent with His determined will. My concern is this – In an effort to defend the Biblical witness about God’s complete knowledge of all things past, present and future are we emphasizing His sovereignty/control to the exclusion of the necessity of a response on our part? Will this cause a certain fatalism on the part of believers that is similar to the fatalism seen in Islam where believers accept death and destruction as a part of God’s will as if any attempt to avoid the consequence of evil is useless since this is what Allah desires? Does religious fatalism create a malaise on the part of believers who lose any enthusiasm for participating in God’s plan since He will work it out according to His plan anyway and really doesn’t require our participation? How do we acknowledge God’s complete control without allowing our faith to atrophy and our works to disappear?

The Scriptures give equal time to God’s complete sovereignty and man’s responsibility, but ultimately, from God’s perspective, He is in absolute control. However, there is a psychological aspect to all of this at the human level. By God’s grace we are given a measure of free will to accept God’s plan and participate with Him or reject God’s plan and do what is right in our own eyes. I hope I have made some sense.

Motherhood and the Tame Tongue

Last week I was standing outside my friend Kelly's house as we huddled together with a fellow neighbor discussing an episode of the night before that had involved a crazed, drunken, knife-wielding woman ramming her car into a house on our street. This had occurred as Kelly and her husband had watched from their window, praying the nut wouldn’t turn her vehicle on their home. The day-after gossip revealed that it had been a domestic dispute (involving lesbians?!?) that ended pretty raucously with a magnificent wrestling match between perpetrator and the man of the house (again, not sure how the lesbians fit into the scene) and cops with guns drawn. Kelly, I and our retired neighbor were lamenting our changing community on the west side of Rockford. Break-ins, domestic disputes, etc. If troublemakers intended to run amok in our happy ‘hood, we wouldn’t stand for it. In her indignation, Kelly apparently mumbled a very bad word under her breath. I didn’t hear her say it but later at home Kelly called me almost in tears asking that I forgive her for saying that ‘flipping’ (I edit) curse word. I accepted her apology. She was most mortified that her six-year-old son had been in earshot and she hoped he hadn’t heard the expletive. I comforted her, reminding her of how ever-careful she is in the presence of her children to set a good example and have pure language. When our conversation ended, I laughed to myself, thinking of the one time my own mom uttered the mother of all swear words.

We were at our piano recital – the event each year that made our instructor Mrs. Miller proud as a peacock as her students plunked through the pieces we’d all been working on for months. Our brother Matthew arrived late from another obligation and entered the concert hall. He sauntered nonchalantly up the aisle and directly past a young man on the grand piano who was earnestly trying to concentrate through a concerto. The boy faltered, looked up and then shakily resumed his playing as Matthew shuffled to a seat. We Danahers sucked our breath in horror at Matthew’s rude interruption but our heads snapped around as we heard Gina behind us hiss the unthinkable. “F---ing idiot!” My sister Rachel and I exchanged nervous glances wondering through twin telepathy if we had indeed heard her correctly. Next to me, David sank a few inches lower in his seat, hoping mom wouldn't hit him since she couldn't reach Matthew. My mother was so incensed and angry that to this day she has no memory of even saying those words. But we kids won’t let her forget it. For as hard as my Italian/Irish mother worked to keep her temper and language in check, we held her accountable – though playfully – for the one time she lost control of her tongue.

It’s a good lesson for me now that I’m a mom. For all that millions of good mothering moments my mom had and I hope to have, it’s those few less-than-perfect moments that seem to stand out. However, it’s not those moments that define my mom. It’s because she held herself to such a high standard of conduct that the time she failed is so readily recalled. I can sit on my front porch on a summer Saturday morning and observe the neighbors across the street relaxing on their front lawn. It makes me sad to hear the parents shouting rudely at the kids with regular profanity. Those little ears are accustomed to their parents speaking in such a way, so it’s no wonder I hear them using that same bad language as they breeze by on their bikes.

I know how to be a mom because I have my mom’s example to follow. I understand that my children will do as I do and say as I say. It’s a big responsibility, this parenting job. I pray for self-restraint as I search for the right words to say, even when I’m frustrated and angry. Of course, I expect to make mistakes along the way and that’s when I will have to rely on grace, forgiveness and perhaps a little humor.

THE TEACHING SISTERS OF ST. DENIS

What would make a woman, pregnant with twins, want to homeschool her children even before they were born? For me it started as a conviction that I did not want to have my children’s Christian faith neutralized by instruction that might be contrary to what we believed as a family. The family, after all, is the very first and most fundamental form of government. Its spiritual, psychological, and physical health is the most important factor in the general health of civilization.

Since I determined to embark on this journey when my daughters were yet in the womb, I had plenty of time to prepare by reading and investigating the best way to approach education on such a personal level. I read many books on development and investigated different methods of instruction. It was important to decide what my own philosophy of education would be. Did I want to have a structured home school or did I want to adopt the unschooling method? Did I want to use conventional reading programs or did I want to use a pure phonics method? Those are important determinations to make before the journey. I never doubted that I could do the job at least in the early years. I resolved to take it "one year at a time" thereby giving myself the option of enrolling my children in school if my limitations became a hindrance. "What could those limitations be?" you ask. Actually no one asked that question. In spite of all the obvious questions people might ask about the decision to keep one’s children in a home school, the most common question was "What about socialization"? Who knew that the public education system was developed for kids to socialize? From the beginning of time socialization seemed to come naturally on the sandlots of the world. I thought school was instituted to educate children so they could reach their full potential as adults.

Beyond the socialization question there was the occasional inquiry as to whether I was a teacher. No, I am not trained as a teacher and in fact, now that my children are all grown and have proven that they are not half-wits, I am free to tell people that my children are the products of a mother with an eighth grade education. It’s not that I didn’t attend high school; I did attend and graduated in 1972. It’s just that I don’t remember paying attention to any one class and I certainly don’t know how I actually passed out of any of my classes. I don’t really remember enjoying my education at Bogan High School in Chicago. I could blame my teachers, but that would be unfair. The teachers were very good with maybe a couple of exceptions and some of them tried very hard with knuckleheads like me. I liked high school because I had a whole new world of friends thus proving the point that conventional education systems exist for the socialization of the students at least in the minds of the students.

I didn’t always dislike school. In fact some of my fondest memories are of my grammar school years at St. Denis. That was a time in my life when I didn’t benefit from socialization; but I loved to learn and the Dominican nuns facilitated that learning wonderfully. My first nun, Sister Marie Rita, taught second grade and had a fierce reputation as a disciplinarian. She lived up to her reputation and I became the recipient of her discipline at least twice during the second grade. Sister Marie Rita accurately assessed that I was a "scatterbrain" as she told my parents. That stayed with me all of my life and as an adult I think back and realize that I was indeed a scatterbrain. Many decades latter I encountered my third grade teacher at a local restaurant and when our conversation turned to St. Denis, this teacher, Miss Halper, mentioned that all of the children that were passed on to her from Sister Marie Rita were excellently prepared for third grade and she was very grateful that her job had been made so much easier thanks to the Sister. Miss Halper herself was one of the best teachers ever employed in the Catholic Diocese. I loved having her as a teacher and remember her to be dedicated, energetic and organized. The third grade is a very memorable grade for me thanks to her.

In fourth grade I had Sister Jane Loretta. I remember her being very sweet and patient. I must have learned how to listen with both ears and apply myself to my subjects because I don’t remember any negative comments from her and certainly no disciplinary action. In sixth grade my nun was Sister Claret Marie. I have to say that I felt sorry for this sister because by sixth grade all of the potential troublemakers were perfecting their harassment techniques and she didn’t seem to handle it very well. I vividly recall sitting in class watching Sister Claret Marie's face change from slightly flushed to bright red as her anger grew while she tried to control the shenanigans. If I remember correctly, she left St. Denis midway through the school year and was replaced by Sister Thomasita. I have to admit my memory is a somewhat foggy on this.

My favorite nun was my eighth grade teacher Sister Maria Goretti. She was patient and soft-spoken yet always seemed to have control of the class. A very traditional nun at a time when Orders everywhere were shedding their traditional habits, she once explained to us in class that she preferred to keep the traditional habit in order to distinguish herself as someone who is married to Christ. I appreciated that she took the time to answer our questions about what it meant to be a Catholic nun. I also appreciated that she gave me her copy of Walter Farley’s fictional biography of Man o’ War. I was horse crazy my whole life and had a collection of Farley’s Black Stallion books except for Man o’ War. I still have that book and have never seen another one since.

My report cards from St. Denis testify to my being a B student with the potential for better grades with a little effort. I never did apply myself to academics consistent with my abilities. I was easily distracted and proof that Sister Marie Rita was very perceptive when it came to diagnosing her student’s gifts or disabilities. Yet the dedicated lay teachers and nuns of St. Denis must have been some of the best teachers that any school system had to offer because I was perfectly able to instruct my own children armed with the education they had given me. The Dominican sisters of St. Denis were a credit to their order and are sorely missed in today’s private education system.