Free from Glory; Free for Glory
“Beware lest you say in your heart, ‘My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.”
Deuteronomy 8:17
It seems relatively common for average adventurers to pose for a picture that creates an illusion where they dangle from a treacherous rock formation, scale a cliff, hold up the leaning Tower of Pisa, or push a massive bolder. Beyond being a fun picture for scrap books and social media stories, I wonder if this trend reveals a curious aspect of our human condition: even in jest, we tend to imagine that we are far more capable than we really are. But in reality, many of our struggles fundamentally stem from an unwillingness to soberly recognize and appreciate who we really are.
One of the primary reasons Moses wrote Deuteronomy was to define and declare Israel’s national identity before they crossed the Jordan river to conquer Canaan, the promised land. He set out to accomplish this by recounting both the major stories of their heritage and declare who God is and what He expects of them. It’s why Moses repeatedly tells them (as God does throughout the rest of the Old Testament) to remember what God has done for them. He even tells them to set up ebenezers (stones of remembrance), lest they forget. Moses wrote these things, knowing that the Israelites would face great success. Of course, they had many set-backs along the way, but God had promised to give them the land. They would be victorious; it was a foregone conclusion. But fearing the people’s tendency toward forgetfulness (likely because he knew his own propensities), Moses warned them about the condition of their hearts. He knew it was more likely that they would celebrate their own accomplishment, void of God’s provision. Unfortunately, Moses wasn’t wrong.
Several thousand years later, we’re no less in need of these reminders. How easily I forget all God has done for me! When the immediacy of the world weighs me down, I’m quick to ask God rhetorically, “Don’t you care about me?” That’s one result of forgetting about who God is and what He has done: we minimize both how valuable we are to God and the numerous ways He has shown His heart for us. Conversely, it can also cause us to have too high a view of ourselves – forgetting that we owe all our successes to God’s provision. As a result, remembering who God is and what He has done is central to a proper, healthy view of ourselves.
It’s especially important that we recognize God’s specific emphasis on our hearts in this Deuteronomy warning. There might be some who have enough arrogance to outwardly say “it’s because of how great I am that I have achieved where I am.” Typically people have enough awareness not to voice such things in public. But, it’s quite normal to think it. As it so often does, the Bible holds up a an x-ray mirror, revealing the condition of our hearts. How easily we make nearly every situation about ourselves! Even in the best of moments, if we’re not careful we internalize that our best of deeds or successes are attributed fundamentally to our own merit.
The Apostle Paul clearly understood this reality when writing Ephesians 1:11-14: “In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.” Rarely could any of us say, “I earned this inheritance.” Most often, our inheritance is given to us for no other reason than being born into the family we were – which we didn’t have a decision in. It’s something bestowed on us. It’s ours, but not because of anything we did. By the way, that’s one of the most comforting and mind-boggling truths of the gospel – all God promises can be claimed as our own, but not in the least bit because of what we’ve done.
But it’s vitally important that we think about all of our successes with this same perspective. What we have is our own; and that should give us great reason for gratitude and celebration. Yet, we must have an inheritance-mindset where we cling to the reminders that it’s God who has accomplished these things and given us what He has.
For the last eight years, I’ve lived in St. Louis where the first question people ask others when they meet is “where did you go to school?” Not being from the area, I find it odd. But, the question is a protected ritual for native St. Louisans. They don’t merely ask to explore whether or not they share friends or acquaintances in common. Rather, they believe that a person’s answer to the question reveals something about the nature of that person. Crazy, Right!
“He must be athletic.” “She must have money.” “She must be working-class.” “I bet he’s a snob.” “He’s probably smart.” “She must be a committed Catholic.”
Typically, parents make enrollment decisions for their children or the neighborhoods where they want to buy a home. Kids don’t have much to do with it. If anything, asking where a person went to school reveals more about the parents than it does about the person. Maybe, we should say something similar about how we view our successes. We should celebrate them for what they say about God, rather than what they say about us.
And this is at the very heart of Christian education. Students come to school for the very purpose of seeing a measure of successes, overcoming challenges, and learning new ideas. Christian schools are fundamentally in the success-making business, and Christian teachers ought to be the most optimistic of all people. For, we are brokers of hope … seeking to see students take all they learned and experienced in school and do good things with it. Most schools and teachers have the same hope, yet those of the Christian sort have a far different end in mind.
Secular education aims to see students succeed for their own benefit or for the “betterment” of society. At the end of the day, it’s man-centered. It’s pragmatic, utilitarian, and is prone to change with the values of the day. On the other hand, Christian education ought to be God-centered; it seeks to further Christ’s kingdom above an individual student’s. But focussing on God doesn’t minimize the value of people or their communities. It’s not as though the Christian educator says, “Secular education focusses on you (the student) and your societies, but Christian education focusses on God, rather than you.” No, Christian education seeks to see students and their communities flourish, but recognizes that the only way this can happen is through a God-centered approach.
Secular education wants students to know and experience things so they can use what they’ve learned. Christian education wants students to know about God through what they learn, so that they can be better used by God.
Rightly ordered, Christian education is freeing for the student. It doesn’t put a burden on a student, saying “these are the things you need to learn so you can succeed.” Rather, it declares, “Even this is another way in which God has chosen to reveal Himself and by learning more about it, we’re learning more about Him.” The former is characterized by students struggling to be free in pursuit of their own glory. The later is characterized by students who have been set free so that they may struggle, which gives God glory. It’s a radically different approach, and by not making the student the center of education it actually gives the student more dignity, more agency, and more freedom. They’re set free from the pursuit of their own glory, and this freedom enables them to embrace all things in light of God’s glory.
As a result, Christian schools should nurture in students such constant rhythms of aiming their learning toward God that they naturally welcome any success in recognition of what God has done. Like the Israelites standing on the shores of the Jordan River, our students will see successes. They’ve have many victories on top of the failures and struggles. But, we need to approach their learning endeavors like Moses did – cognizant of their tendency (and our own) to make it all about them. Left to themselves, this is where they’ll go. Yet, part of the rescue mission of Christian education is to help students learn to see all things in light of God’s provision. That’s restorative; it’s refreshing and renewing.
And, it’s the only place where our students can truly rest. It’s the only place where they can feel secure in their accomplishments. Paradoxically, by not making their learning and successes about themselves, it’s the only way they can find real joy in them. That same paradox is at the heart of the first question in the Heidelberg Catechism. It asks the question, “What is your only comfort in life and death?” and provides the answer: “That I am not my own, but belong with body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from all the power of the devil. He also preserves me in such a way that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, all things must work together for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit he also assures me of eternal life and makes me heartily willing and ready from now on to live for him.”
On first glance, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to hear that the only comfort we’re going to have in life in death starts with confessing that “I’m not my own.” But, this is the sort of thing that we need to have on “repeat” in our heads, and it’s what students need to hear from Christian school teachers. This is part of the rescue mission as an ambassadors of repair and hope.
“Beware, lest you say in your hearts …”
