What is Look at the Book?

You look at a Bible text on the screen. You listen to John Piper. You watch his pen “draw out” meaning. You see for yourself whether the meaning is really there. And (we pray!) all that God is for you in Christ explodes with faith, and joy, and love.

“Will my son go to heaven?” The father choked out the words as he talked about his child with profound intellectual disabilities. The boy could barely communicate about his basic needs and had no ability to articulate an understanding of the gospel.

What would you say to this father? Or to parents who have experienced the death of a baby?

Section 8 of the Desiring God Affirmation of Faith points to why I affirm that the grace of God covers babies who die and people with profound or severe intellectual disabilities. Section 8.4 concludes with this sentence:

We do not believe that there is salvation through any other means than through receiving the gospel by the power of the Holy Spirit, except that infants and people with severe intellectual disabilities with minds physically incapable of comprehending the gospel may be saved.

Note that this sentence is not based on the idea that babies or those with profound intellectual disabilities are innocent, or that they have somehow merited forgiveness in themselves. The Bible is clear that all humanity has been stained by sin (Romans 3:23), and will endure the consequences of sin, unless saved through the unmerited grace of Jesus Christ (Romans 6:23). So what is the basis for this statement? Are we allowing sentiment to guide rather than Scripture?

Who Is Without Excuse?

As with our aim in the entire Affirmation of Faith, the sentence flows from God’s word — and especially from Paul’s words in Romans 1:19–20:

What can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.

What leaves humans without an excuse before God? According to Paul, the ability to perceive God’s invisible attributes in creation. As John Piper explains,

Mankind would seem to have an excuse if they had not seen clearly in nature what God is like. And so, because I don’t think little babies can process nature and make conclusions about God’s grace, glory, or justice, it seems they would fall into the category of still having an excuse. . . . God will not condemn them because he wants to manifest openly and publicly that he does not condemn those who did not have the mental capacities to put their faith in him.

We could consider other passages alongside Romans 1. Ecclesiastes and Job, for example, seem to suggest that stillborn children enter a state of rest, not damnation, when they pass from this world (Ecclesiastes 6:3–6; Job 3:11–19). But Romans 1 lays a firm enough foundation, from Scripture rather than sentiment, that God’s grace covers those who never suppressed the truth of his revelation (Romans 1:18), because they could not perceive it.

Comfort for Caregivers

If you know of someone who has lost a young child, Nancy Guthrie, who lost two infant children, offers wise, careful words as you serve grieving families. John Piper also offers helpful ways to think and talk about the death of a baby through his funeral meditation for Owen and his remarks about the death of his granddaughter. I particularly recommend these resources to pastors, who will, at some point, counsel parents in these circumstances.

Yet where does that leave those of us who are caring for adults with profound or severe intellectual disabilities? My 26-year-old son, Paul, functions at about the developmental level of a 15-month-old child. He needs assistance with every basic life need; he is completely vulnerable and dependent on others. He is expensive in every way that can be measured: financially, relationally, emotionally, spiritually, physically.

Is my only hope and comfort that someday he’ll be covered by the grace of God as he enters his rest? Am I just hanging on until he (or I) dies and enters this rest?

Limited but Free

First, if that were true, it would be enough. God created him in his mother’s womb just like every other human being (Psalm 139:13), and God is completely unembarrassed that he intentionally made him with disabilities (Exodus 4:11). God’s promise to supply every need of his, and mine, is anchored in Jesus (Philippians 4:19).

But there is more. Though his dependency is counted against him in most cultures of the world, he approaches life as God instructs all of us to live:

He has no anxiety about what he will eat or wear (Matthew 6:25–32).
He does not worry about tomorrow or live with regrets about his past (Matthew 6:34).
He forgives quickly and completely; he has never held a grudge (Matthew 6:14–15).
He shows no partiality with regard to ethnicity, education, or wealth (James 2:1–7).
He is completely unembarrassed at his dependency (2 Corinthians 12:9–10).

“My son lives more freely in his limitations than any ‘normal’ adult I know.”

Frankly, he lives more freely in his limitations than any “normal” adult I know. And if God intended his life solely as an example to the church, that would be enough. But there is more.

Weak but Indispensable

Paul teaches clearly about the power of God through weakness, maybe best summarized in 1 Corinthians 12:22: “The parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.” As Piper notes,

Paul says they “seem” to be weaker. He leaves open whether they are or not. They may not be. But they seem to be to one side or the other. And he says that if they seem to you to be weaker, they are, nevertheless, necessary. Not optional, but necessary. Not merely helpful, but necessary. Not maybe a needful part of the body, but necessarily a needful part of the body.

My son is weaker in every way — that is observable. But what about the work of the Holy Spirit in his life? The Holy Spirit is not limited by anything, even your own sin and disobedience. There was a time “you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked” (Ephesians 2:1) and could never please God (Romans 8:8). Praise God, “by grace you have been saved” (Ephesians 2:5), if you are embracing Christ as Savior, King, and Treasure! It is the same grace that covers babies and those living with severe intellectual disabilities.

Frail but Unafraid

God, through David, tells us one way the Holy Spirit uses infants, or anyone living with the intellectual capacity of an infant, for his glory:

Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger. (Psalm 8:2)

Babies and infants, and frequently my son, make noise that makes no sense. Yet God establishes strength through them that puts Satan to flight. I’ve read books and PhD dissertations on God’s word that couldn’t do that, and a few that even served Satan’s work in the world. In standing before Jesus, which would you rather be: the babbler who was used by the Holy Spirit to protect a family or a church from Satan, or the geniuses of this age who, “claiming to be wise, . . . became fools” (Romans 1:22)?

My son may only have limited, functional language, but he is unafraid to use it for God’s glory. I have met other adults with severe intellectual disabilities who behave in the same way.

When my Paul was getting off the bus from school several years ago, his bus aide told me, “A revival broke out in Music Therapy class today!” Paul had spontaneously started to sing “Amazing Grace” in his entirely secular public-school setting — and nobody stopped him or disciplined him. Maybe someday Jesus will tell us about the human soul he saved that day through Paul’s song.

“Don’t pity him, or me as his father, but pray that God would allow you to be as free.”

So, don’t pity him, or me as his father, but pray that God would allow you to be as free.

Greatest Thing in the World

The greatest thing in the world is to be saved. On the basis of God’s word, we can be confident that God’s grace covers babies who die and the severely intellectually disabled who live for decades.

Yet, as D.A. Carson once noted, don’t be “pastorally insensitive and theologically stupid” toward families suffering because of the death of a child, or living in a culture hostile to those with intellectual disabilities (How Long, O Lord? 101). Rather, embrace your own dependency on God, learn and trust God’s word to us, pray for wisdom, and then embrace with love and care families in these circumstances, for God’s glory, the health of your church, and your own joy.

A pyrophobic firefighter. A book-averse librarian. A doctor who is grossed out by germs. We shake our heads at the thought of these living, breathing oxymorons. If such workers exist (and they just well might), we would think them comical at best and hypocritical at worst.

Conceited mothers are no different.

By its very nature, motherhood is humbling work. From the moment of her child’s conception, a woman willingly opens her womb for the ministry of hospitality. She welcomes new life by giving her body as a sacrifice, laying down her comfort and pre-baby body on the maternal altar of love.

After intense pains bring forth her child, a mother’s labor has only just begun. Moment by moment, day by day, over many years, she assumes the role of a servant leader, laying herself down for the good of her kids.

Yes, motherhood is humbling work. And that makes conceited motherhood a sad contradiction.

War Against Conceit

We moms know this, and yet we still wage war against selfishness. Most mornings, I have to verbally remind myself before my two little kids come downstairs, “They are not here to help you. You are here to help them.” For those of us who love Christ and long to be more like him, our struggle with sin remains — but thank God there is a struggle! Our fight against it offers good evidence that we are truly alive in Christ. He has changed our hearts and given us the desire to be humble as he is humble:

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:3–8)

“To be a humble mom is to look increasingly like Jesus as we look increasingly to Jesus.”

Jesus Christ is the most humble human who has ever lived. So, to be a humble mom — a mom who fights against “selfish ambition or conceit,” and therefore a mom in the truest, God-given sense of the word — is to look increasingly like Jesus as we look increasingly to Jesus. Only as we realize that he lives to serve his people (us!) will we fight the temptation toward selfishness and long for a heart that looks like his.

Because knowing and loving him is more satisfying than anything we could gain by sin.

Three Temptations We Face

Let’s identify now three ways that selfish ambition and conceit tempt mothers like you and me, following Paul’s flow of thought in the passage above. Then we will counter each of these temptations with a lingering look at Jesus, the holy and humble Son of God, who alone can deliver us from self and clothe us in his humility.

Temptation 1: Count Yourself More Significant Than Your Kids

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. (Philippians 2:3)

You know the thought: This work — whether diaper changing, mess cleaning, snack making, or repeating myself a hundred times — is below me. I am too good for this. We may not say these words, but many of us think or feel them. Motherhood involves repetitive, simple, lowly work toward little ones, and so it’s easy to think we are too important for it.

Eve’s original temptation from the garden is ours: we want to be like God. And yet, in our pride, we don’t realize how low our God has stooped to serve sinners like us.

We may think we have good reasons for struggling to serve, but if anyone actually does, it would be the Son of God. And yet, nothing kept him from stooping to help us:

Though he was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. (Philippians 2:6–7)

This is astounding. The Son of God left his high position in heaven and made his home in the dust of earth. He left his unseen form as God of the universe and confined himself to a human body and soul. He left the glory he had known for all eternity to walk among sinful and murderous people.

“In our motherly pride, we may want to be like God — but the truth is, our God has become like us.”

In our motherly pride, we may want to be like God — but the truth is, our God has become like us. He wrapped himself in human flesh to deliver us from our sinful flesh, from the selfishness and conceit that would keep us from being faithful mothers who willingly lower ourselves to serve our kids, counting it our joy and privilege to do so. Only as we gaze upon the incarnate humility of Jesus will our definition of significance be altered, for his stooping posture of service is the perfect picture of greatness (Matthew 23:11). With all our hearts, we confess our pride and ask him to empty us of our former selves, filling us instead with Spirit-given joy in taking the posture of a servant (John 13:14).

Temptation 2: Look Only to Your Own Interests

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. (Philippians 2:4)

Every mom knows how often plans change. And this is humbling. As we realize that we are not God, that our future is not in our control, and that only he knows what’s next, we are confronted with how tightly we hold to our own interests. We’re made aware of our vice grip on our circumstances. We think, This wasn’t my plan. We need to spend precious naptime minutes disciplining our child instead of resting; we must cancel our long-awaited vacation because everyone has the flu; our dream of motherhood is thwarted by a life-altering diagnosis in one of our children.

The question for us is, How will we respond to God when plans change? In pride, or in humility?

During his earthly ministry, Jesus’s posture was to joyfully humble himself to the will of his Father. Even as he sought rest, solitude, and prayer after a busy season of ministering, he found himself confronted by needy crowds (sound familiar?). And what was his response? He was not annoyed or angry, but “he had compassion on them,” for he knew that these people were sent to him straight from his Father (Matthew 14:13–21).

He looked not only to his own interests, but to the interests of others, and ultimately to the interests of his Father.

The ultimate display of his obedience to the Father was the cross: “being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). The sinless one took on our sin, bearing the full weight of God’s wrath in our place. What matchless obedience! And this, so we also would joyfully humble ourselves before God and obey his will, looking to his interests and the interests of others above our own.

This is freedom, momma. To be released from the tyranny and fallenness of self into the perfect ways and infinitely wise agenda of God as we serve our kids — this is the truest life, and true, humble motherhood.

Temptation 3: Forget Who You Are in Christ

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 2:5)

What mind does Paul call us to have? A humble one. A Christlike one. But lest we get discouraged by our remaining selfishness, by how far we still feel from Jesus’s humility, Paul reminds us of a vital reality: our union with Christ. “Which is yours in Christ Jesus.”

Mom, you no longer belong to yourself. If you have trusted in Jesus for the forgiveness of your sins, then you have been united to him in saving faith. This means that you have an unshakable security in Christ that no bad day of motherhood can undo. It means you are not left to your own resources as you fight selfishness, but have his Spirit of humility dwelling within you. It means that sin is no longer your master; Jesus is.

So when you are tempted to forget who you are in Christ — when the pull toward lofty pride or your own interests feels too strong; when you would rather scoff at your kid’s mess than clean it up (again); when you “just want to be done,” but the needs keep rolling in — remember that the living Savior lives in you. The exalted one, seated at the Father’s right hand, has made his home within you by his Spirit. You are Christ’s, he is yours, and he joyfully gives himself, without restraint, to you.

You are united to the God of all creation, who emptied himself to serve you to the point of death, and all the way through it to resurrection life. And if this perfectly humble God is on your side, momma, what conceit or selfishness can stand against you?