My soul is swelling right now. I really can only find one word to describe it: Joy. As I sit I am listing to Joe Purdy, waiting for the waffles to rise, hearing Nathan’s happy noises as Natalie reads him nursery rhymes, and looking at the wonderful Valentines day gift my darling wife gave me. It is very simple, like most joys. A thin black poster frame, filled with nearly a dozen photos from our honeymoon. The photos are from a disposable camera we got while in North Carolina that I have been meaning to get developed for the last year and a half. Unbeknownst to me, Natalie had them devoloped and then arrenged them tastefully in this frame.

The pictures capture the happiness of that time, the joy of the memories. It especially rings true this morning as we enjoy the continued joy, a joy that has matured over time, and will continue to mature. These memories are powerful mostly because of the reality of the present, and the hope of the future. It is this trajectory that makes memories worth making. The past, the present, and the future are dependent on one another in a sort of way that seems to reflect the Trinity.  They are all dependant on each other. Any over-emphasis of one distorts the others. Memories are made for maturing, they seem to look forward, while the future must keep them in mind to keep going forward. All of this connects in the ever-constant present. Sometimes all three connect powerfully, in hope, love, and joy. And Joe Purdy.

It has been a busy time. And happy. As many know, my son, Nathan Laurence, was born two weeks ago. This has opened my world up in an explosion of joy, love, responsibility, and fear. As my pastor said this morning,  this is not something I can get out of. Essentially, I’m stuck. I have now found myself face to face with the reality of the need for sanctification and Christ-likeness. Laying down my life is no longer an option in a real tangible way. Either I bring home a paycheck, or I am a murderer.

But at the same time, I have been blessed by God in a way more tangible than ever before. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob has extended His covenant to a people not His own. He called a people who were His enemies and made them His part of His church, His people. He made us part of the glorious lineage of Heaven, as a good friend of mine put it. He extended the covenant, with covenant curses and covenant blessings, to us. Nathan is a covenant blessing. Nathan is in the covenant. This cause for celebration, and sober consideration.

So we will be celebrating. Nathan will be baptized this week, and after the baptism we will feast. We will feast mainly on pork. This pork is from a pig whose entire existence has been for this purpose, to feed the people of God as we celebrate the entrance of a new covenant member into the church of Christ.

It is just this sort of celebration that I feel is a large part of what it means to be the church. It is living life before the face of God in gratitude and joy. It is by celebrating the blessings of God, and considering them wisely, that we will cause the nations of the earth to bend the knee to Christ. It is by working together, laughing together, and working together that we will fix the economy, the abortion rate, and the drug problems of our culture.

We want to fix the culture so that the world will know the joy that is eating at the Table of the Lamb. We want the world to eat with us at the heavenly table. We convince them, not by politics or changing the law, but by eating rightly before them.  We want the world to sit outside our windows wondering what the fuss is about, why we are so happy in the Lord’s house with the Lord’s people. And we want to invite them in.

(I originally wrote this post last month, before Nathan was born. I seem to have saved it wrong, and never posted it.)

I can’t help but think that our world, in its full scale fleshly materialism, is in the clutches of gnosticism. The whole world is obsessed with bodies. We want six pack abs, bulging biceps, and fuller busts. We associate beauty with a robotic, utilitarian, youthful type of body. You know, buns of steel. When we are forty-five, we regret that we no longer look twenty. Some still try. The body has a tendency to mature, and that involves stretching, bulging, and sagging. That is the reality of it. But we are obsessed with perfect bodies. Ones that are tight, hard, and don’t wear out. That’s not reality, it gnostic. It denies the fundamental physical reality of being a physical being in a fallen world.

This gnostic view of the body denies life. It is a view that says the primary purpose of the body is to give life to itself. But we know that to live we must lay aside our own life. This is easy for me to say as a guy. I don’t see the effects of this as quickly. Laying aside my life physically may actually make me look stronger, tighter, and all of that. When I work, because I do work, my body for a time will improve. But what about my wife? What happens when she embraces the purpose of the body God has given her, and lays aside her life to give life? For starters, she gives life. Life grows inside of her. And then she starts to grow and change, and the world looks at her and says, ‘eww’. She is uncomfortable often, and by accepting pregnancy she has accepted changes in her body that may never go away. Many in the world, and in the church, look at that kind of sacrifice and cannot fathom why she would do such a thing. It is because only by laying down our lives can we live, and she will not only live, but will have given life to another.

But it is not that she has accepted the idea of looking ugly to give life. Far from it! She has accepted a different idea of beauty. Hers is a more mature beauty. It is a beauty that in twenty years will not look like a girl’s, but will look like the beauty of a woman who has given life to the covenant children of God. We will both one day be old and wrinkly. I hope we can look back through the years not regretting that we have lost our youth, but rejoicing that we have given it. I hope that we will look at the past not as somewhere we wish we could be still, but as somewhere that was a step to where we are going. Where we are going is a real world of real redeemed bodies. Mature ones that are more beautiful than any we can imagine here.

Nathan Laurence arrived at 2:38 Sunday morning. He was 8 lbs. 3 oz. and 21 inches long. Mother and son and recovering and doing well.

I am a father. This is a spiritual reality as well as a physical one. I have fathered a child. That child has an eternal soul. Did I create that soul, no. But I didn’t create the body either. The truth is that a soul has been generated, and I was largely responsible for its generation. It seems then, that this young soul is descended from myself. Myself, who am a member of the covenant body of our Lord Jesus Christ. This covenant has been promised to me and to my children. Baptism is the rite of entry into that covenant. But baptism must be given to those who have faith. And that faith is supposed by many to only be able to be shown when one is able to articulate it. But faith in the Bible is rarely something that is articulated. It is generally something that is acted out. It is something that is closely associated with (get this) little children.

I believe my place in the covenant is one of grace. It is by grace that I am here, it is only by grace that I shall remain here. Even after the resurrection it will be a position of grace. It will be a position that will never change, but it is still one of grace. If my children enter into the covenant it will be because of grace. If they remain in it, it will be because of grace.

Now, I believe through covenant promises that my children will be in the covenant. If this is true, then they will be, already, under grace. Now one of the gifts of grace is faith. It is my understanding that my children are promised faith. If they are promised faith, and are part of the covenant, then they are deserving of baptism, the rite of entry into that covenant and the church.

That is why I plan on baptizing my first child. I understand that apostasy happens. Some fall away. But we serve a gracious God who is faithful to the faithful, and gracious to those who obey His commands and do His will. He is holy and true to His Word. I have faith because He granted me faith, and part of my faith is that He loves His little children, including the ones not yet born.