1 Peter 3 – Women’s Adornment

I meet with a few men on Friday mornings for a bible study. We start bright and early (more early than bright perhaps), but my Fridays are blessed as a result. We’ve been studying 1 Peter, and today we hit 1 Peter 3:1-7, with the infamous discussion on wives being submissive to their husbands. We chatted about this being a continuation of the thought in 1 Peter 2 encouraging servants to submit to their masters and everyone submitting to governmental authority, but for me, the most interesting portion of our conversation was where I least expected it.

In 1 Peter 3:3-4, he encourages women to focus on the “hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit” instead of on outward beauty. “J” mentioned that Peter seemed to have some insight into women, to understand the challenge they faced and commented upon how there is “something” about a woman’s spirit that can enhance the most beautiful and make the homely appear lovely. “K” pointed out that even 750+ years before, Isaiah had to point out the same problem in the women of that day (Isaiah 3:16). “k” mentioned that the woman admired in the Song of Solomon is not particularly beautiful if you convert the physical description to a picture, but that her spirit made her beautiful in the eyes of her lover (which has some cool applications to God as the lover of our soul and us, His church, as the beloved). What struck me, however, was our culpability as males for this stereotypical tendency in the women we love.

It is generally accepted that a “good husband” remembers to express to his wife how beautiful she is, and a “great husband” doesn’t even have to remember; it comes naturally. But how often do we admire our wife’s hidden person? How often do we compliment her upon her spirit? As humans, we respond to positive feedback. If we men only praise our wife for her external beauty, why are we critical of her tendency to be “overly concerned” about her appearance? We have a duty to fulfill here, and it is not an onerous one. Let’s remember to admire the inner beauty of our wife as well as her outward attractiveness. By doing so, we encourage her to become even more beautiful, and that’s good for everyone involved.


Games and the joy of failure

I came across an interesting article with implications for game design and, perhaps, for the etiology of some addictions. In their study The Psychophysiology of Video Gaming: Phasic Emotional Responses to Game Events , Ravaja, Saari, Laarni, Kallinen, Salminen, Holopainen, and Järvinen discovered that “Not only putatively positive game events, but also putatively negative events that involved active participation by the player elicited positive emotional responses…” Interestingly, the reaction to failure was more strongly positive than the reaction to success, and the pleasure associated with success was primarily anticipatory, with a noticeable drop once success was achieved. It’s no secret that a game that is too easy, that presents no opportunity for failure, is quickly abandoned as “boring”. Game designers and Game Masters have long been aware of the necessity of balancing challenge and achievement. A “Monty Haul” adventure is generally accepted to be less “fun” than “Mission: Impossible.” So it is no secret that the actual or perceived possibility of failure is critical to the enjoyment of success, but the concept of failure as a source of pleasure was new to me.

The upside of this is that game designers have an additional tool to apply consciously in the quest to entertain and educate. The downside is the ugly intersection of this pleasurable failure with the unhealthy psyche. For individuals convinced at some level that they deserve to fail, whether by neurochemical imbalance, environmental factors, or an agent of the enemy of their soul, this quick and repeatable source of failure can be dangerous. The endless treadmill of MMPOGs are perhaps the most dangerous. It’s like putting a crack-dispenser in an addict’s bedroom.

This doesn’t mean I think games are evil or should be eliminated or restricted in some way. I am firmly convinced that games, storytelling through games, and the art of game design offer benefits to society, technology innovation, education, etc. that outweigh the associated dangers. Additionally, I suspect that perhaps this pleasure in failure may underly other addictive behaviors. Similar patterns appear to exist in addictions to work, unsuccessful relationships, spending, approval from others, food, pot, and other psychological (vs. chemical) addictions.

What I do suggest, is that mentors, parents, pastors, and others who care about someone demonstrating symptoms of addiction consider this as a possible underlying cause. In my experience, games stopped being a snare for me when I came to grips with my belovedness in the eyes of God. Human approval, even intense human love, was insufficient. People can be deceived or mistaken; God cannot. Only recognizing that the same God who knows everything about me loves me intensely was sufficient to drive the changes that took me from addicted and depressed to joyful and free.


Self-Importance Strikes Again

The text for my Friday morning bible study this week was 1 Peter 2:13-25. We discussed what it meant to suffer unjustly, turn the other cheek, etc. and had a difficult time identifying examples of what that would look like in practice. As we closed in prayer, the Holy Spirit pointed out to me that 1 Peter 2:18 instructs me to submit myself (as a wage-slave) to my master (employer), and I missed an opportunity to bring Him glory by obeying that instruction.

Wednesday night, someone mentioned in an email thread that I had committed to resolving an issue that night (after work hours). I had not, in fact, agreed to any such thing. My reply was “Err… nobody ever asked if I could do this tonight, but I will arrange to do so. In the future, it would be nice if I were asked before a commitment is made on my behalf so that if I’m completely unavailable for some reason, we can make other arrangements.”

My reply wasn’t so terrible from a human perspective, but this was a clear opportunity for me to put 1 Peter 2:18 into practice, and I blew it. I grumbled, drew attention to the fact that I was not being treated fairly, and essentially whined that I wasn’t being treated justly. This wasn’t a case where work was coming into conflict with family responsibilities, and I didn’t have an internal debate as to whether I should do the work; the only debate was whether I whined about doing it, or just did it, and I made the wrong decision.


Bringing God Glory by Wanting to Bring God Glory

As I thought more about the challenge to be more like Jesus, and considered the practical application of the desire to bring God glory, it was urgently impressed upon me that the key to bringing Him glory is to nurture the desire to bring Him glory. The desire that God in all things may be glorified (1 Peter 4:11) is both a prerequisite for, and the beginning of, doing so.

Jesus said that “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and prove to be my disciples.” (John 15:8). Paul describes the fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5:22-23) and encourages us to increase demonstrate that fruit in order to bring glory and praise to God (Phil 1:11, Galatians 5:16, 2 Peter 1:5-7). My natural state is to desire my own glory; it is only through His grace that I can even desire to bring Him glory. It stands to reason, therefore, that the desire to bring God glory reflects His handiwork in my life, and thus brings glory to Him.

Jesus encouraged us to “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 5:16), but no matter what good works I might perform or good words I might say, if my heart isn’t in the right place, it’s pointless (1 Cor 13). C.S. Lewis, in Christian Reflections, summed it all up “For all our offerings whether of music or martyrdom, are like the intrinsically worthless present of a child, which a father values indeed, but values only for the intention.”


What if I did and said only those things that brought glory to God

As I sat at my desk Thursday afternoon, the thought flashed through my mind, “What if I did and said only those things that brought glory to God?” Not far behind that thought was the disturbing realization that I held reservations about striving towards that goal. At some level, I’m quite double-minded. I want a living, vibrant relationship with God, but I cling to selfish habits and thought patterns. I want His will, especially if it corresponds with my own. I want to bring Him glory, especially if it brings me recognition in the process.

The concepts of bringing God glory and of being wholly dedicated to Him has been the current running through all of my reading and meditation the past while, and seems to have been coming closer and closer to the surface in preparation for this question. This week, it was just blatantly obvious. I read Philippians, where Paul speaks of being poured out in service (Phil 2:17) in order that God may be glorified as (our own and others’) knees bow and tongues confess that Jesus is Lord (Phil 2:11). I contemplated Kirkegaard’s assertion that the purity of heart that allows us to see God is to will one thing, to have undivided loyalties. I read Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline, and was struck by the man who decided to think about God every minute for an entire year. I was reminded of Jesus’ words that we cannot serve two masters and that He always did those things that pleased His father (John 8:29).

Friday morning, James told me (James 4:3) I ask and do not receive because I ask with wrong motives. I’ve been asking for a deeper relationship, clearer vison of Him, and asking Him to fulfill His promise that when I turn the wrong way I’ll hear a voice behind me saying “This is the way.” When I consider my motives, however, I find that, too often, I am more interested in a fortune-teller to ensure I make no poor decisions, blessing upon my own desires, or a shortcut out of an uncomfortable situation than in real growth.

So, the challenge has been presented, the voice has called from behind me to show the way. Am I willing to be separated to Him, to take every thought captive? It is my choice, but it isn’t much of a choice, really. On the one hand, to know the right thing to do and not to do it is sin (James 4:17). On the other, Psalm 45:7, tells us that that to love righteousness and hate wickedness leads to being anointed with the oil of joy.

I’m going to say yes. I’m not sure what that means in practical terms but I know it will be an interesting journey.