Ligonier Ministries Blog

1. How Can I Be a Godly Mother?

   “Love them,” our wise pastor advised me. In all my reading about discipline, schedules and developmental stages, he pointed this new mom to what mattered most: love (1 Cor. 13:1). Over the decades, I have come to appreciate the wisdom of his advice. While keeping love at forefront, I offer moms twelve biblical principles on holiness. 1. Our holiness is God’s priority. As Scottish pastor Robert Murray M’Cheyne (1813–1843) was known to have said, “My people’s greatest need is for my personal holiness.” The same is true for moms. We can humbly live in such a way that we can say to our children, “Follow me as I follow Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). Through this pursuit, our children will learn more than we know. 2. Our holiness is in Christ alone. When we sin, as we all do (Rom. 3:23, 1 John 1:8), we can also set an example of repentance. When you sin against your kids, ask your kids to forgive you. Don’t be like our first parents and hide your sin as if it were not there (Gen. 3:7–8). Teach your kids how to deal with their own sin by the way you deal with yours. As you confess your sin, your children will learn that God not only cares about our holiness, but He also provides the way to holiness through trusting Christ in the gospel (1 John 1:9). 3. Serving our children is a holy calling. We may be tempted to think that there is something more valuable than changing a diaper, waiting at a checkout line, or playing a game with our toddler or teenager. Many parenting tasks are mundane, but when done in faith, they are glorious! When Jesus washed His disciples’ feet, He dignified humble service. What’s more, He said that whatever you did to the least of these, you did to Me (Matt. 25:40). Let us humbly serve our children a cup of cold water in His name (Matt. 10:42), knowing that this loving care reflects God’s care for His children (Matt. 7:9–11). 4. Our children belong to God. They belong to Him first (Eph. 1:4). He is their heavenly Creator. He made them for His purposes, not our own. Parents are stewards called to point our children to their greatest need (Heb. 12:5–11). This means that we must always submit our plans for our children to God’s plan (Prov. 16:9)._ _God chooses where they will live (Acts 17:26), the good they will do (Eph. 2:10), and the course of their lives (Ps. 139:16). 5. God uses suffering for His holy purpose. God even chooses suffering for our children. God is a good Father, who does not allow suffering without providing relief (Isa. 41:10; 1 Cor. 10:13; 1 Peter 4:19; Rev. 21:4). Naturally, our hearts break when we see our children suffer. But in His holy and wise providence, God gives our children trials to conform them (and us) to the character of His Son, Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:29). With this good purpose in view, we are called to rejoice in suffering, and over time, teach our children to as well (James 1:2–4). 6. Holiness requires discipline. God disciplines those He loves and so should we (Heb. 12:6, Prov. 13:24, 23:13). No one, including moms, likes discipline at the time, but it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those trained by it (Heb. 12:11). Pray for wisdom to discipline your children well and fully expect God to give it (James 1:5, 1 John 5:14–15). 7. Holiness requires God’s vision. Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). When our children misbehave, we may be tempted to judge by appearances. The Bible cautions us to “be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19) and tells us, “The ear of the wise seeks knowledge” (Prov. 18:15). Sometimes we need to hold back from immediate discipline. In some cases, we should seek greater understanding first so that we can address the heart accurately (Prov. 14:29). 8. Holiness is a gift from God. Sometimes we do not have because we do not ask God (James 4:2–3). Ask God for holiness for your children—along with every other good and perfect gift: love for His Word, a teachable heart, wisdom, health, friends, and more (James 1:17). Look past what you can give from your resources to what God can give from His (Matt. 14:13–21). 9. God gives children a holy promise. “Honor your father and mother . . . that it may go well with you” (see Eph. 6:1–4). Set an example of honoring their father and all their authorities. Seek to settle disagreements in private and to be united in raising your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord (Col. 3:18–25). If you must disagree in front of your children, do so respectfully (Eph. 6:33). 10. God is always at His holy work (John 5:17). Pray to see God’s work in your children’s lives, thank Him for it, and point it out to them. A godly mom builds up her house (Prov. 14:1). Don’t wait for “perfection” before giving praise. God doesn’t! He commended many imperfect people in the Bible. Point your kids to God’s faithful work in their lives. 11. Jesus is our holy peace. Jesus assures us: “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Expect trouble as a mom, but don’t despair; God is with you. Be strong and courageous as you take hold of the covenant promises God has for your children as you labor to consistently set God’s Word and Lord’s Day worship with God’s people before them (Josh. 1:9). 12. God’s holy Word is sufficient (2 Tim. 3:14–15). Stay and pray in the Word and you will find many more truths to help you be a godly mom (John 17:17). As you study who God is and what He has done, the Holy Spirit will show you just what you need as a mom so that you can say with Paul, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Phil. 4:13).

2. God’s Comfort in the Loss of a Child

   Christians are not promised health, wealth, and happiness this side of heaven. The sad reality of life in a fallen world is that we will all go through many different forms of loss: our health, a job, a relationship, or, worst of all, the loss of a person dear to us. When we experience these things, it can be hard to see anything outside of the loss itself. It can become so all-consuming that everything else gets swallowed up by grief, even the life-giving truths of Scripture. I experienced this when my daughter Leila was stillborn one week before her due date. I began to fixate entirely on the horror of my loss: my longed-for baby had died; I wouldn’t get to feed, clothe, or care for her; my son, Ben, remained an only child; I might be plunged into infertility again; my daughter was buried in a grave; and on, and on, and on the eyes of my soul regarded one terrible reality to the next. But in looking at my loss and its many layers, I stopped looking at the One who alone could bring comfort to my sadness and light to my darkness. Hymn writer Helen Lemmel knew the way out of my near despair: > Turn your eyes upon Jesus, > Look full in His wonderful face, > And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, > In the light of His glory and grace. When I turned my eyes to Jesus, even the loss of my child grew strangely dim as His light illuminated the darkness. Looking upon Him didn’t anesthetize me from pain, but it did bring me immense comfort amid the pain. The Savior Who Cares As I turned to Jesus in the loss of my daughter, I found a Savior who was full of compassion. The Gospels record how Jesus’ heart was tender toward hurting people who had experienced many kinds of loss. One of the most beautiful examples of this is when a man afflicted with leprosy implored Jesus to make him clean. Mark records in his gospel: “Moved with pity, [Jesus] stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, ‘I will; be clean’” (Mark 1:41). This man was unclean according to the Levitical laws (Lev. 13), and therefore was treated as an outcast, with physical distance always separating him from others. But Jesus, moved with compassion, stretched His hand across the void of separation and touched him. How long must it have been since this man had felt the touch of another person? The Gospels give us many examples of Jesus touching the lives of those living under the burden and brokenness of a fallen world. With compassion, Jesus pursued the mother whose only son had died (Luke 7:11–15), the sick (Matt. 14:14), the hungry (Matt. 15:32), the blind (Matt. 20:30–34), and the harassed and the helpless (Matt. 9:35–36). When we look at these accounts, we do not see a Savior void of feeling for suffering people, but a Savior who “stretches out His hand” toward us in compassion. The Savior Who Cries Perhaps nowhere do we see the tender heart of Jesus more than in the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). When He arrived at the house of mourning where His friend Lazarus lay dead, Jesus didn’t shed a cinematic single tear—He wept. Even though He knew that He was about to call Lazarus back to life, He still felt the deep emotions of sadness and anger. After Leila was stillborn, I wept more than I ever had before, but I was comforted by the fact that my Savior also wept in the face of death. In his commentary on this verse, John Calvin writes, “He is as much moved by our ills as if he had suffered with them himself.” In your loss, and in mine, our Lord Jesus does not delight in our sorrow. He is the Word become flesh who felt sorrow in His breast and tears on His cheeks. The Savior Who Conquers Knowing that Jesus cares and cries is a comfort in times of loss, but by itself it is not enough. For what use is it for Jesus to come alongside us in our suffering and sorrow, if, in the end, He cannot overcome these things for us? If Jesus is not a conqueror, then ultimately, He is not a comforter. When we are hurting, we do not merely need a sympathizer—we need a Savior. Jesus didn’t come to cover our pain with a Band-Aid; He went to the root cause of all our suffering—namely, sin. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree” so that He could reverse the curse of the fall (1 Peter 2:24). Before sin cast its ugly stain over everything, there was no loss. There was no crying, no disappointment, no brokenness, no death. When Jesus called Lazarus from death to life, He was showing us what He came to do: “That through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil” (Heb. 2:14). Because Christ conquered death and was raised to life on the third day, He gave us new hope of a world to come where all sorrow and sighing will flee away, where death and loss will be no more. The Savior Who Comforts When I found out that Leila had died in my womb, I was plunged into a grief that threatened to consume me. But when I looked to Jesus, the Savior who cares, cries, and conquers in a world of sin, suffering, and sorrow, I found comfort—my only comfort in life and in death. When I turned my eyes toward Him, my loss grew “strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.” > O soul, are you weary and troubled, > No light in the darkness you see? > There’s light for a look at the Savior, > And life more abundant and free.

3. Navigating the Challenges of Motherhood with Grace

   This spring brings a major shift in my motherhood: my youngest will graduate from high school. It’s a finish line that marks the end of this stage of parenting. I’ve seen it coming for a while and I’m filled with multiple emotions—joy for my son as he enters the next stage of life; sorrow as I anticipate not seeing him at home every day. I’ve reached the destination we all journey toward, yet I’m filled with uncertainty about what lies on the other side. When I first embarked on this journey, I felt overwhelmed by all that I did not know. I felt inadequate in the face of so much that was new and unknown. I lacked wisdom for challenging parenting decisions and feared not getting them right. Since then, I’ve encountered many difficult circumstances in my motherhood and anticipate more to come. Yet, I can look back and see God’s grace at work and His faithfulness to meet me in all my troubles. Wherever you are in your motherhood journey—whether in the early, middle, or empty nest years—God meets you where you are. He provides His grace. We see this in the lives of three mothers in the Bible. In each of their circumstances, God provided what they needed and gave them His grace. God Sees and Knows In the story of Hagar, we see a soon-to-be mother whom God saw in her struggle. As Sarai’s servant, she became part of Sarai’s plan to bring God’s promises to fruition (Gen. 16). When she fled from Sarai’s anger and into the wilderness, God met her and showed her His grace. There she called God El Roi; “You are a God of seeing . . . Truly here I have seen him who looks after me” (Gen. 16:13). When she later found herself in the desert again and thought she and her son would die, God saw her. He heard her cries. He met her needs once again with His grace: “Fear not, for God has heard” (Gen. 21:17). When we struggle as moms, God meets us where we are with His abundant grace. He is El Roi, the God who sees. He sees our fears, sorrows, and uncertainties. He knows our cares for our children. He hears our cries for help and delivers us. The greatest proof of this is in God’s deliverance of us from our sin at the cross, where He provided His own Son to pay the punishment we were due. Through faith in Christ’s work for us, we are delivered from sin and now belong to God: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:31–32). The same God who saw Hagar in the wilderness sees and hears our cries for help. God Delivers Because of His Covenant Love In the book of Ruth, we meet Naomi, who had lost everything in the land of Moab. Her husband died, followed by her two sons. Her grief was heavy; she could not imagine life would ever bring joy again. God provided for her in her daughter-in-law Ruth, who left her people to join Naomi on her journey home to Bethlehem. He then provided for her in the grain fields a loving husband for Ruth and a grandson for Naomi. A frequent theme to their story is God’s hesed love. Such love is more than mere kindness; it is God’s covenant commitment to His people. God meets mothers in desperate circumstances with His hesed love. For moms in challenging situations, for those of us in hard parenting seasons, we can trust in God’s steadfast love for us. A love that is faithful. A love that delivers and provides. A love that keeps its promises. A love that never fails. The same God who delivered Naomi in her grief and showed hesed love to her and Ruth is faithful in His love toward us. God Equips Us for Our Calling Young teenage Mary one day encountered the angel Gabriel, who told her she would bear the Savior of the world. I remember well the insufficiency I felt as a new mom; I can’t imagine what it was like for Mary to hear such news. Her song reminds us how God works in our lives by His grace: > For he who is mighty has done great things for me, > and holy is his name. > And his mercy is for those who fear him > from generation to generation” (Luke 1:49–50). God doesn’t call us as mothers because we already know what we are doing. He doesn’t choose us to raise the children He entrusted to our care because we are capable or wise. Rather, He equips us for motherhood out of His abundant grace: “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence” (2 Peter 1:3). He gives us all we need to raise our children. He provides wisdom, strength, and endurance. This is good news for moms. The same God who showered His grace upon Mary showers the same upon us. Each of these mothers in Scripture encountered God’s grace in their lives, revealing His faithfulness. Moms, wherever you are today, trust that God will meet you there with His grace.

4. Who Was Elijah?

   In this era of advanced sports analytics, you often see baseball players in the field pull out cards from their back pockets between batters. These are positioning cards—they tell the fielders where to stand, based on the tendencies of each batter, to increase the chances of getting an out on a hit ball. In a similar way, I hope this brief summary of Elijah the prophet will help you know what to look for as you study the prophet’s ministry in the book of Kings. As we survey Elijah’s life from his first appearance to his being taken to heaven, there are six things we need to know. 1. Elijah was an enigmatic man. In the early ninth century BC, during the dark days of Ahab the son of Omri, from seemingly out of nowhere God raised up Elijah as His prophet to confront the Baal worship of Israel and Judah (1 Kings 16:28–17:1; 2 Chron. 21:12). But he was from somewhere—he was a Tishbite, from Tishbe in Gilead (the region of Israel east of the Jordan River). Unfortunately, we don’t know exactly where Tishbe was, and his hometown is all we know about his background. We don’t know his “origin story.” Like Melchizedek, Elijah was also “without father or mother or genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life” (Heb. 7:3). He was something of a mystery man, wearing distinctive clothing (2 Kings 1:8) and standing aloof from Ahab for much of his ministry (1 Kings 17:3; 18:10), appearing and disappearing at God’s command. 2. Elijah was a bold man. He stood against the wickedness of the leaders of God’s people (particularly Ahab) with boldness and courage. On Mount Carmel (1 Kings 18), in the vineyard of Naboth (1 Kings 21), and in the face of Ahaziah’s soldiers (2 Kings 1), Elijah was fearless. From where did his boldness come? He tells us in 1 Kings 17:1: “As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives, before whom I stand . . . ”. Elijah knew that he stood always in the presence of the covenant God of Jacob, the true King of Israel, who had called him to do His will. He knew his God, and he was jealous for the glory of his God (1 Kings 19:10). With the boldness of a lion, therefore, he displayed strength and took action (Prov. 28:1; Dan. 11:32). 3. Elijah was a brokenhearted man. Unfortunately, Elijah’s reaction in 1 Kings 19 to Jezebel’s response to the “battle” of Mount Carmel is often misunderstood. Far from being bold in this instance, we are often told that he shows himself to be a fearful, self-pitying, complaining coward. But as Dale Ralph Davis insightfully notes, when we weigh the Hebrew text, read the map, listen to the angel, ponder the parallels with Moses, and hear Paul telling us in Romans 11:2 that Elijah “appeals to God against Israel” on God’s covenant mountain, we see the chapter with new eyes. Rather than viewing Elijah as quivering in fear, sinfully losing trust in God, then refusing to see his sin even when God asks him the same question twice, we should understand that Elijah is groaning in utter disappointment and despondency at seeing Israel’s continued rejection of the Lord’s word and deeds. Rather than rebuking him on Mount Sinai, God is listening to him levy a covenant accusation against Israel, encouraging him that He has a plan of judgment and salvation, and giving him a new direction in ministry, thus setting the stage for what follows in the narrative. 4. Elijah was a prayerful man. We see Elijah speaking to God throughout his ministry: at the deathbed of the widow’s child (1 Kings 17:20–21), on Mount Carmel (1 Kings 18:36–37), and on Mount Sinai (1 Kings 19:10, 14). But in James 5:16–18, James highlights Elijah’s prayer for rain in 1 Kings 18:42—as well as his prayer that it would not rain (implied in 1 Kings 17:1). Elijah was a man “with a nature like ours” (James 5:17) and is held up for us as an example of fervent and earnest prayer (the Greek reads, “He prayed with prayer”) that accomplishes much. Elijah didn’t merely pray reactively to the circumstances happening around him; he sought God’s face proactively. He knew that he was coming to a King of power, holiness, and grace, so he brought with him large petitions that only a strong God could answer. 5. Elijah was a type. The Bible is clear that Elijah prefigured John the Baptizer (Mal. 4:5; Luke 1:17; Matt. 11:14). Like the former, the latter had a distinctive appearance (Matt. 3:4); turned many of God’s people back to Him (Luke 1:16–17); faced a hostile political power, including a woman with murderous desires (Matt. 14:8); and anointed a successor at the Jordan River (Matt. 3:13). Just as Elijah points us to John, so Elisha points us to Jesus. 6. Elijah never died. Like Enoch in Genesis 5:24, Elijah never died (see also Heb. 11:5). The prophet was taken up by a whirlwind into heaven, with his body still united to his soul (2 Kings 2:11). Therefore, these two men are unlike all the rest of the departed saints. One day soon, they will once again join us on earth—a new earth, in which no idolatry exists, in which righteousness dwells, and in which there are no more broken hearts.

5. How Did We Get the Heidelberg Catechism?

   Historian Philip Schaff said of the Heidelberg Catechism (1563): > It is fresh, lively, glowing, yet clear, sober, self-sustained. The ideas are Biblical and orthodox. . . . Altogether the Heidelberg Catechism is more than a book, it is an institution, and will live as long as the Reformed Church. That’s high praise from a history lover. But should this old document excite modern people? Perhaps its story can tell us something about its contemporary value. Like all catechisms, the Heidelberg is an ancient teaching tool, often employed by Scripture (Mic. 6:8; Mark 8:29, 36–38), that uses questions and answers to convey truth. And when it was written, fifty years into the Protestant Reformation, people needed good answers. Many weren’t sure about such vital matters as the authority of Scripture, the sufficiency of Christ, the relation of faith and works, and the nature of the church. The Roman Catholic Council of Trent (1545–1563) had just enshrined anti-reformation teaching, and reformational factions often generated strong disagreement. One place where tensions ran high was the German province of the Palatinate, ruled by Frederick III (1515–1576) from 1559 until his death. Thanks to his wife Maria, Frederick had become a Calvinist. And while many of his subjects were gospel-believers, they were deeply divided, particularly over how Christ was present in the Lord’s Supper. Several debates in the years following Frederick’s accession brought no peace. To help his people make a common confession of faith, Frederick followed the popular custom of publishing a catechism that might promote both personal piety and peaceable living. It would provide children a doctrinal study guide, give preachers a structure for presenting the “whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27), and establish a theological standard within the Palatinate. While Frederick could capably sponsor, oversee, contribute to, and edit the catechism, he enlisted help from the theological faculty at the University of Heidelberg and from his city’s distinguished ministers. These, in turn, gleaned insights and even specific phrases from an international cadre of theologians including Martin Luther, Philip Melanchthon, Huldrych Zwingli, Henry Bullinger, John à Lasco, and especially John Calvin. The Heidelberg Catechism was a team project, but in its production two men stand out. Caspar Olevianus gained a doctorate in civil law before studying theology under Calvin and Peter Martyr Vermigli. After a brief and tumultuous ministry, Olevianus came to Heidelberg in 1560 to teach and preach. While he was likely not a coauthor, he played a meaningful role in drafting the catechism. The catechism’s principal author was Zacharias Ursinus. He studied under and befriended Melanchthon in Wittenberg, Germany, pastored a church in modern-day Poland, and gained further education in Zurich, Switzerland, before coming to Heidelberg in 1561. In 1562, he composed smaller and larger catechisms and, the following year, translated Calvin’s Genevan Catechism (1541) into German. All of this heavily influenced the Heidelberg Catechism. Frederick’s catechism was an immediate success, requiring three printings in the first year. But, to no surprise, it was also controversial. In 1566, Frederick defended himself at the Diet of Augsburg, where he earned the nickname Frederick the Pious. After Frederick’s death, his son, Louis, banned the catechism and banished over six hundred Reformed teachers and preachers. However, when Louis died, Frederick’s second son, Casimir, honored his father’s legacy by reintroducing the catechism. The Heidelberg found its way to America through German and Dutch immigrants in whose churches it had become a doctrinal standard. The catechism opens with a greatly treasured piece of Christian writing: > What is your only comfort in life and in death? > That I am not my own, > but belong—body and soul, 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 delivered me from the tyranny of the devil. > He also watches over me in such a way > that not a hair can fall from my head > without the will of my Father in heaven; > in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. > Because I belong to him, > Christ, by his Holy Spirit, > also assures me of eternal life > and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready > from now on to live for him. (Q&A 1) The next question and answer introduce the catechism’s guilt-grace-gratitude structure. As sinners, we need a righteousness that doesn’t come from us (Rom. 3:19–20). Because God in Christ provides what we lack (Rom. 3:21–22), we must offer ourselves to Him in loving service (Rom. 12:1). This sketch of the Christian life is expanded by a question-and-answer study of the Apostles’ Creed, the Ten Commandments, and the Lord’s Prayer. The factors that birthed the Heidelberg Catechism are not foreign to us. Believers and their children must still understand, as J.C. Ryle put it, both biblical facts and “the nature, place, and proportion of the various doctrines.” We must “be sound in the faith, and . . . armed with a clear scriptural knowledge of the whole system of the gospel.” Because of its warmth, breadth, clarity, and Christ-centeredness, the Heidelberg Catechism remains one of the most influential of the numerous Reformation catechisms. It stands ready to help believers in every age grow in the comfort the gospel gives.