We had a chance to participate in a few conversations this weekend on Christianity and culture, kingdom-building and parenting (and the intersections therein.) Thanks to Leigh for making it happen: it is always fruitful to have space, time and ideas to spur thoughtfulness and I am hoping these conversations continue.
One thing that struck me again is that so much of life, from the practical to philosophy and theology, is about holding two seemingly opposing ideas in tension.
Mercy and justice. Law and grace. Liberty and responsibility.
Sometimes we luck out, and the pendulum finds itself at rest between two extremes without much effort on our parts. Other times we have to fight to correct our inclination to one extreme or the other, and push ourselves towards the balance.
We know, both Biblically and sociologically, that our kids need a sense of mission to make faith real and lasting. Jesus died on the cross for more than just forgiveness of sin and making us feel better. He is making things new. He cares about this world. He wants us to care too.
If we neglect kingdom-building, we truncate our children’s view of the gospel and make Christianity smaller and less meaningful in their eyes, or even end up promoting an anti-gospel where the purpose of life is happiness and security.
However, we can take this sense of mission too far in the other direction. Our children are a particular gift and responsibility from God. We have a limited amount of time to be with them. If we spend all of that making them feel like they are always second to mission, they will grow to resent it.
There is a middle way, of inviting them to be on mission with us, while leaving plenty of space for childhood, for play, for unhurried time to build that relationship. May we love others boldly and lose our lives for Christ’s sake and his kingdom. May we love our children well and guide them so that they always remember who they are, beloved children of their parents and of God.
by Al Wolters is a book I’ve been meaning to read for about 10 years. Geared towards students, it’s a good look at the implications of the gospel through all creation. (8.5)
by Eric Metaxas is a well written look at a fascinating figure worth reading about. But somehow, I felt like this biography was a little too close to hagiography, and also projected quite a bit of 21st century evangelicalism onto the subject. Still, it’s a good read. (6.5)
by John Green made me laugh and cry and think. Word to the wise: there is a lot of good work written in the Young Adult genre that you might enjoy, that is neither dystopian nor vampiric. TFioS is my favorite of Green’s novels so far, but I probably need to re-read Looking for Alaska now that I know his writing better. (9.5)
by Robert Lupton with some friends this month. If you are interested in practical wisdom about loving the poor, I recommend this simple book. (9)
by Ingrid Ricks was an unfortunate Kindle Lending Library choice fueled by my interest in all things LDS. It is a decent, but unremarkable memoir, and not as much about Mormonism as the blurb suggests. (4)
by Phyllis Tickle. And there were moments I really enjoyed. But I did not love it, nor did I find it as engaging as many other spiritual memoirs. (6.5)
was Markus Zusak’s debut novel. It’s quirky and fun, but read The Book Thief, that is Zusak’s masterpiece. (6)
by Elyse Fitzpatrick 
by Muriel Barbery is thought-provoking and like The Fault in our Stars, made me feel a wide range of emotions. It read well and didn’t feel like a translation. I think this is a book people either really like or really don’t, and I’d recommend it more cautiously, even though I enjoyed it. (8)
