Taste and see...

Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. Psalm 34:8

Only once have I ever eaten oysters. It was in my student days, and I was hitch-hiking in France. The person who picked me up was friendly and generous, and he insisted that I must sample this famous delicacy. Well, I can’t pretend I particularly enjoyed it – I ended up thinking, “No, not really my thing, thanks very much”. But I was glad I’d given it a try; a box ticked, so to speak.

Taste is a vital human sense, and enormously varied. There’s sweet and there’s sour, there’s mustard and there’s honey, there’s salt and there’s sugar, and there’s a million variations in between. How infinite is God’s creativity!

No wonder meals figure so prominently in the Bible, including the sacred ones we call “communion” or “the eucharist” or “the Lord’s Supper”, where Christians remember the meaning of Jesus’ death for his people. He also made a point of sharing meals with the poor and those who might be despised by more “respectable” people. The fact is that people - whether family, friends or strangers - grouped around a table and sharing a meal (however basic and ordinary) is a beautiful symbol of human togetherness.

Psalm 34, one of the most glowingly reassuring in the whole book, starts as a testimony psalm. The writer (David, according to tradition) has come through a desperate time, but is able to testify that “I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears” (verse 4). That’s wonderful to know. But for me, the psalm reaches its climax in verse 8, which is essentially an invitation: he encourages his readers to “taste and see that the Lord is good”.

The most vital truth conveyed by that invitation is that God is a God to be experienced, not simply believed in.

The question arises: what does it mean to “taste and see that the Lord is good”? The psalmist is urging his readers to do something, but what might that something be? I ask because there could be people reading this blog for whom this is the most urgent question you need to face up to. You feel an inner emptiness; you know that there is something missing at the very core of your life. You may be “religious” in the conventional sense of that word – you may go regularly to church and even pray – but it doesn’t yield any kind of satisfaction.

That’s very different from the psalmist. He starts his psalm revelling in the reality of God. Just look at some of the verbs he uses in the first few verses: he “extols” God, he “praises” him, he “glories” in him, he wants to “exalt his name together with” his readers (good things are always worth sharing, aren’t they?). Do you find yourself envying the joy, peace and fulfilment that such words conjure up; do you feel yourself shut out from something very precious?

What then must you do? Well, let’s look at one or two other words which he uses to describe his own experience…

First, he sought the Lord (verse 4).

That means he looked for God with serious intent. It wasn’t a case of vaguely thinking: “I really must get to grips with this God business when I’ve got a bit more time…” No, it had risen to the top of his priorities. This will certainly have involved heart-felt prayer, prayer that welled up from the depths of his heart.

We sometimes say of somebody that they “mean business” about something they’re focussed on, they’re “not messing”. Are any of us, if we’re truly honest, really not serious? It’s a foolish and dangerous thing to mess with God.

Second, he called (verse 6) or cried out (verse 17). That makes me think of somebody in danger of drowning or threatened by a violent attack. For many of us, the thought of literally shouting out to God seems alien; it just isn’t something we do in our culture (and we may even be guilty of looking down on those who do). But then many of us have never been in literal fear of our lives.

Third, he came with deep humility. He describes himself rather pathetically as this poor man (verse 6), aware that he has no claims on God’s mercy but is in the position of a beggar. But isn’t that true, ultimately, of all of us? Our very lives are given to us by God, and he has power to withdraw life as and when he chooses.

All this means that the psalmist has found himself forced to get to grips with the deepest realities of life – something that many of us are very reluctant to do, turning a blind eye in the forlorn hope that they might just somehow “go away “ (they won’t).

There is so much we can learn from this psalmist. Of course, he was writing many years before the coming of Christ, whereas we are privileged and fortunate to know the full story of which he knew only the first part in prophetic glimpses; we know about Christ’s birth, life, death and rising again. Putting our faith in him is the biggest turning-point in our lives; it changes everything and makes us fit for a whole new world. That doesn’t mean all will immediately be easy and comfortable. But it does mean that a day will come when even our poor, pathetic faces will be “radiant” (verse 5).

So… “Taste and see that the Lord is good”. Is it time you took advantage of that loving invitation?

Father, I have known about you most of my life, but I realise that I have never actually come to know you personally. Please receive me now as I cry out to you with serious and determined intent, putting my trust in Jesus; may I indeed taste and see that you are good. Amen.

When the church becomes a clique

“Teacher”, said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name, and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us”. “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us. Truly I tell you, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to the Messiah will certainly not lose their reward”. Mark 9:39-41

It was the annual harvest festival service in the village chapel, and the place was packed. Bill, who had been a church member for longer than anyone could remember, stood watching the congregation as they got ready to leave. Mary noticed him taking it all in and said, “Ay, Bill, it’s good to see the place full, isn’t it?” Bill slightly shook his head and said, “Ay, I suppose so. But I must admit I prefer it when it’s just us”.

I prefer it when it’s just us… Sad, sad words! I can’t vouch for the truth of that story, but, however sad, I fear it could well be true. For we Christians can be terribly possessive and mean-spirited when it comes to our attitude to Jesus and the outside world. He’s our Jesus! he belongs to us! – and we turn the church, or our little bit of it, into a kind of holy club, an in-crowd, the only one which has everything right.

Jesus’ first disciples showed exactly the same kind of mentality. They happened across a man who was “driving out demons”. Well, that wasn’t all that unusual in the world of that time: wandering preachers, miracle-workers and exorcists were a regular sight, using a variety of methods and wordings. Perhaps the disciples just shrugged their shoulders and heaved a sigh.

But as they got closer their ears perked up – Hey! The name this man was using to drive out demons was that of Jesus – their Jesus! How dare he? This must be stopped! And so: “we told him to stop, because he was not one of us”.

Did he stop? Mark doesn’t tell us, nor Luke in his parallel passage (9:49-50). But it seems that the incident rattled the disciples enough for them to report it back to Jesus, perhaps with a misplaced pride in their loyalty to him, or just genuine puzzlement.

What does Jesus do? Simple: he tells them they got this wrong: “Do not stop him… for whoever is not against us is for us…”

“Whoever is not against us is for us”. Is that statement one that some of us have never really taken seriously? Are we too quick to dismiss people who, even though they may call themselves Christians, don’t for some reason identify with us? People, perhaps, who sing different hymns and songs? Who use a different Bible translation? Whose style of prayer or worship is different from what we’re used to? Who belong to a different denomination or movement? Who hold some item of doctrine that we believe is mistaken? – regarding the person and working of the Holy Spirit, perhaps? or the authority of scripture? or the truth of creation? or the right system of church government?

We know nothing about that man (“the strange exorcist”, the scholars call him) who the disciples felt needed to be put right. But we can imagine…

Suppose he had stood one day in the large crowd that came to listen to Jesus? Suppose he had been gripped by this new prophet’s electrifying words and wonderful deeds? Suppose his heart had been set on fire? Suppose he knew that his life could never be the same again? Suppose that, in a rush of enthusiasm, he had started telling everybody he met what had happened to him? Suppose that, having witnessed an act of “exorcism” – Jesus expelling demons from somebody – he had taken it upon himself to attempt the same thing in Jesus’ name?

What then? All right, that’s purely speculation, but it’s perfectly possible. Whatever, the fact is that Jesus (who at that point will not have known the truth about the man) spoke those words of loving rebuke: “Do not stop him… Whoever is not against us if for us”. And the question arises: is Jesus directing the same words to us? to me? But we’re just not hearing?

Of course, we need to take care. There is no shortage of false teachers, of would-be miracle-mongers, even exorcists, around today, just as in Jesus’ day. Religious charlatans abound! Jesus warned his disciples about them (eg Matthew 7:15-23), as did John (probably the very same John as the one who figures in this story: eg 1 John 2:18-27). We need to be discerning; truth matters. Indeed, according to Matthew 12:30, Jesus himself, in very different circumstances, made a statement to his disciples which on the surface directly contradicts what he says here: “Whoever is not with me is against me”. (You don’t have to think very hard, taking note of the context in which he was speaking, to see that there is no contradiction at all.)

Here are a couple of passages in Acts which, I think, throw light on all this. First, Acts18:24-26, where Priscilla and Aquila show how the disciples might have treated the strange exorcist more graciously and more humbly than they did: “Come and have a meal with us; there are a few things we would love to share with you…”

And then Acts 19:13-16, the dramatic episode of “the seven sons of Sceva” who “went around driving out evil spirits” and who “tried to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus…” Well, they tried, but thy didn’t get very far! In fact, they got far more than they bargained for – and it wasn’t nice…

Was this God’s way of urging his followers to relax, as if to say, “If somebody chooses to try and exploit my Son’s name, just leave it to me to sort them out. Your interference may be well-meaning, but I can do whatever’s necessary, thank you very much”.

Christian, be discerning, yes, of course; but be generous, be welcoming, be affirming too; not mean-minded, arrogant, not too sure of yourself…

Father, thank you for the open and generous heart of Jesus, happy to think the best and not the worst of outsiders. Give me such a heart, as well as a discerning and understanding mind. Amen.

Nice? or Nasty? or Neither?

Jesus said, “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children…” Matthew 7:11

Jesus said, “Out of the heart come evil thoughts – murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what defile a man… Matthew 15:19-20

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners – of whom I am the worst. 1 Timothy 1:15

There is no-one righteous, not even one… Romans 3:10

Do you like yourself? Do you think of yourself as a good person?

How’s that for a direct question?

In answer we might very well say, “Well, I wouldn’t claim to be perfect, of course! But I’d like to think I am at least no worse than the next person. I live a pretty honest life, I don’t cheat or lie or break the law, and if anybody needs a hand, well, I try to be there for them…”

This self-assessment may indeed be fairly accurate. But we need to recognise that many of us are fortunate to live in circumstances where life is relatively comfortable, if not always exactly easy: we have food and drink every day; we have medical care which, however stretched, is something really rather wonderful; we have received an adequate education, and possibly far better; we perhaps have a pretty good job, a good family life, and leisure pursuits which ease many of life’s pressures.

Let’s be honest, it’s relatively easy to live a civilised kind of life, to be polite and courteous, under such circumstances. Perhaps it’s not so much that we’re “good” people as that we’re “good-at-being-respectable” people, even good, putting it bluntly, at playing a part.

Whatever… I’ve drawn together three of the New Testament verses at the top which give us a rather different angle on the whole question. Do we have any cause for self-satisfaction?

First, in what seems almost like a throwaway remark Jesus casually assumes that his hearers are “evil”, a word that could be translated as “wicked”, or just plain “bad” (Matthew 7:11). It’s striking that this is in spite of the fact that, he says, they “know how to give good gifts to your children”; Jesus doesn’t question that the gifts they give are indeed “good”, but is obviously of the opinion that that fact doesn’t make them good as people. No, they are “evil”!

Second, there’s Paul, writing to his protégé Timothy (1Timothy 1:15). His main point is the basic and wonderful truth that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”, but then (quite unnecessarily, we might think) he adds a little rider: “of whom I am the worst”.

We might say “Ah yes, but that’s Paul talking, Paul who has already described himself as ‘a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man’, so it’s understandable that he should feel that way. He’s getting a backlog of guilt out of his system, and an element of exaggeration is to be expected”.

Third, though that may be true, we need only to turn to such ferocious passages as Romans 3:10-18 to see that it isn’t just him he’s thinking about; no, he regards the whole human race as falling under the same condemnation. No doubt there is an element of hyperbole (literary exaggeration) in such passages, but they strike home with uncomfortable force nonetheless.

What triggered these rather gloomy thoughts in me was a comment I read somewhere in C S Lewis (sorry, I can’t now remember where). As I remember, he was talking about our natural human tendency to think better of ourselves than we should: the “I’m not such a bad person really”… syndrome. And he said something along the lines: “Well, in fact, if I look inside myself with complete, ruthless honesty, if I gaze mercilessly into the murky depths of my own soul, I find it hard not to come to the conclusion that in stark reality I am really not a very nice person at all; that in fact I am really rather nasty…”

I think it was that ugly word “nasty” that caused his comment to lodge in my mind. I found myself thinking, “Yes, indeed! He’s absolutely right, of course. If I think highly of myself I am in fact just fooling myself”.

I started with a sharply personal question: Do you like yourself? Do you think of yourself as a good person?

Let me finish with another one. When did you last do what Lewis found himself doing, and look with ruthless honesty into the depths of your own soul? And if/when you did, what did you find there? Total honesty? Deep humility? Kindness? Love? Compassion? All those beautiful qualities we find listed in 1 Corinthians 13?

Or pride? jealousy? spite? vengefulness? anger? hatred? lust? laziness? All those ugly characteristics that we find listed in Matthew 15:19-20 or Galatians 5:19-21?

What Jesus calls us to is not mere niceness. Oh no! – that’s nothing to a reasonably good actor. That’s not the point. What Jesus calls us to is nothing less than holiness, which means partaking of the very character of God himself, carrying around in our everyday lives the very aroma of heaven.

Yes, let’s be respectable, of course, in the sense of “truly worthy of respect” in the eyes of others. But let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that we can deceive the one true and holy God, the one who loves us deeply - and the one who knows our very hearts (1 Samul 16:7).

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Wash away all my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. Amen.

Here’s a little poem by that strange man William Blake (1757-1827), who wrote “Jerusalem” and “Tyger, tyger…”. I’m not sure I fully understand what he’s saying, but it seemed to chime in with the C S Lewis quote: if nothing else, it’s about that deep, inner nastiness. Whatever, I invite you to see what you make of it.

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend; 

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe: 

I told it not, my wrath did grow. 

 

And I watered it in fears,

Night & morning with my tears: 

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles. 

 

And it grew both day and night. 

Till it bore an apple bright. 

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine. 

 

And into my garden stole, 

When the night had veiled the pole; 

In the morning glad I see; 

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Putting others first

¹³ Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister. ¹⁴ I am convinced, being fully persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that nothing is unclean in itself. But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for that person it is unclean. ¹⁵ If your brother or sister is distressed because of what you eat, you are no longer acting in love. Do not by your eating destroy someone for whom Christ died…

 Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification. ²⁰ Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All food is clean, but it is wrong for a person to eat anything that causes someone else to stumble. ²¹ It is better not to eat meat or drink wine or to do anything else that will cause your brother or sister to fall…

²² So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves. ²³ But whoever has doubts is condemned if they eat, because their eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.

Romans 14:13-22

We must have been still in our twenties, Bill and I, when we first met. He was lying in the local high street one dark Friday night, and I thought at first that some clothes had been dumped in the road. I didn’t miss him by much, and it wasn’t at all easy to haul him to safety. But I managed, and so began a friendship that lasted just a few years. Then death.

Bill was a wreck of a man, totally ruined by drink. He started coming to church and got to know a number of Christians, all of whom were good to him, though he was never regular. He never “made a commitment” or “received Christ as his Saviour”. But he was always happy to be prayed with, and I remember once when his eyes lit up with ironic recognition as we read from the end of Proverbs 23.

Alcohol-abuse is a common curse, and there is no doubt it could be a problem in biblical times. Often attitudes to it have divided Christians in the modern world. (When I was a new Christian it was taken for granted in the circles I moved in that Christians simply didn’t drink, and that was that.)  In Romans 14 it’s not what Paul has in his sights (I’m just using it as a present-day example); no, he has in mind other issues that may divide Christians, and from them he broadens out his teaching to lay down a fundamental principle which is for everywhere and all times: the great need for us to be respectful of, and sensitive to, one another’s different opinions, different needs and different personalities.

He divides Christians into two groups, the “strong” and the “weak”, which probably boils down to something like the spiritually mature on the one hand and timid newcomers on the other, those who are confident and knowledgeable in their faith, and those who for whatever reason are hesitant and unsure.

Two of the issues that were alive in the Rome church seem to have been vegetarianism (verses 1-4) and sabbath observance (verses 5-6). And Paul’s essential argument, I think directed mainly at the “strong” contingent, can be summed up very simply: don’t fall out over such matters! don’t judge one another! don’t split off into factions! “Who are you to judge someone else’s servant? To their own master servants stand or fall” (verse 4). In short, Hands off! Get it?

Paul uses two particular words in Romans 14 which, I think, are worth exploring a little, not least because they are slightly startling…

First, stumbling-block (verse 13). “Make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister”.

Nasty things, stumbling-blocks! – especially in a world, like Paul’s, that didn’t have many smooth, paved streets, even more so after dark. They can do you a serious injury. So the thought that a fellow-Christian might deliberately place one before you seems simply absurd: why would they do such a thing!

I don’t think Paul is implying that they might do it deliberately, but he is suggesting that if any of us fall out with a fellow-Christian because of some secondary matter - if we are so foolish as to “make an issue” over something that really isn’t worth it - then in fact that is exactly what we might be doing: a previously contented, growing Christian who is at peace with both God and with him or herself experiences a serious wobble to their faith which threatens (to change the image) to derail them completely.

Probably all of us have talked to fellow Christians from time to time who have felt driven out of a previous church because of someone’s insensitive or over-bearing manner. We have responded (I hope) by trying to encourage and reassure them. Good.

But have we stopped to ask ourselves: Have I ever done that? Is that the kind of Christian I am? For myself, I blush to think of the times in my life when I have caused confusion, hurt or anger by ill-chosen words or even perhaps by a well-meant but over-zealous enthusiasm. The times I have laid a stumbling-block in their path… Lord, have mercy!

The second word is even more startling: destroy (verse 15), as in “Do not by your eating destroy someone for whom Christ died” . Paul seems to be suggesting that to get it wrong in this area may mean not simply confusing or troubling that other person, but actually destroying them.

But what can that possibly mean? Not literally kill, surely! He’s not suggesting murder! No, of course not. He is talking about the danger of bringing about somebody else’s spiritual collapse: “Do not let the food you eat ruin the person for whom Christ died” (verse 15, as the Good News Bible puts it). In plain terms, he’s talking about “setting a bad example” or “leading somebody astray”.

We probably fail to recognise that human beings are often quite delicate little plants, easily bruised, even crushed. All it might need is a careless word or an over-bearing manner to leave somebody flattened, broken. We then go blithely on our way, blissfully unaware of the damage we have done. Isn’t this the kind of thing Jesus has in mind in passages such as Mark 9:42-50: strong meat, but needing to be taken seriously. I can still remember things said to me, for good or ill, as a child – which is quite frightening, don’t you think?

Back to Bill. He was, if anybody ever was, “a lost soul”, and my efforts to bring him to Christ were pretty feeble, though I did decide to “go teetotal” for a time in order to identify with him.

But who knows what may have gone on in the depths of his heart during that short period when he was exposed to the gospel? I can only harbour the hope that I might yet see him again - not lying pathetically in a busy street, but “clothed and in his right mind”, and radiant in the immediate presence of Christ?

Father, please help me to distinguish between things that really matter and things which are matters of individual conscience. If a fuss needs to be made, help me to make it graciously and lovingly; if a blind eye needs to be turned, help me to turn it. Help me always to put the needs of my brother or sister in Christ before my own. Amen.

What kind of man is this! (2)

During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him… Hebrews 5:7-9

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. John 1:1-14

Last time I shared a story of someone I knew who took a step forward in her spiritual life when she started to take seriously the fact that, apart from sin, Jesus was fully human as well as fully divine. The point was that taking that truth seriously makes him more real for us; we grasp that he has been through many of the experiences we know - growing, learning, suffering. He is not, so to speak, God-in-disguise, God merely pretending to be human.

That was the point where I ran out of space, so I never got onto the second thing I felt might be helpful. Putting it very simply, this is: Such verses as Hebrews 5:7-9 reassure us that we don’t have to understand in order to believe.

On one level such verses seem contrary to what we as Christians instinctively believe. Indeed, we might be tempted to throw up our hands almost in despair and exclaim: “How could he be both fully human and fully divine?” How could the perfect Son of God need to “learn obedience”? Was he ever disobedient! How could he be “made perfect”? Wasn’t he always perfect! Yes indeed. I think God fully understands such puzzlement and is not in the least offended by it. After all, if we are grappling with divine, ultimate truth we are bound to find that there are mysteries behind mysteries behind mysteries: so we might as well get used to it!

In the early centuries of the church’s existence the wisest heads set about the business of summarizing the essence of the Christian faith in what were known as “creeds” – summaries of what is essential to mature faith. (If the church you belong to is “liturgical” in its worship you will be familiar with such creeds.) It was no easy task to compose them; there were big disagreements over all matter of topics, some of which even became violent. Among these topics were what became known as “the Holy Trinity” (there is only one God, but he exists in three “persons”; how could that be?) and the one we’re talking about, the nature of Jesus’s “being” while on earth, where the mystery was how the human person and the divine person of Jesus could co-exist in one man without turning him into some kind of hybrid being.

Perhaps creating those creeds was necessary in order to safeguard biblical truth and to flag up possibilities of error. But the down-side is that it has proved fatally easy to slip into a false mentality: that assenting to the right formulas or doctrinal statements matters more than simply loving and trusting Jesus as the one who died for us, rose again, and who offers to come and live in us by his Spirit and make us new people.

The result is that there have always been Christians who define Christian faith so precisely and exactly – every i dotted, every t crossed – that they end up seeming to say “If you don’t agree with this, then sorry but you can’t be a true Christian”. (One wonders how many people down through the centuries have been put off coming to Jesus because they found it hard to grasp the mysteries in these creeds and statements.)

How did the first followers of Jesus – Simon Peter, James, John, and the rest – become believers? By suddenly understanding the doctrine of the Trinity? or that this man Jesus was in reality God in human form? Answer: No!

What happened was very different, very practical, very down to earth: they spent time with him, listened to his words and saw his deeds, and, though often puzzled by what he said, found his personality and his power irresistible. And so that memorable day came when he took them to  the region of Caesarea Philippi: “On the way he asked them, ‘Who do people say I am?’ They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; still others one of the prophets’. ‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Who do you say I am?’ And Peter answered (and here comes a lightbulb moment if ever there was one!) “You are the Messiah...” (Mark 8:27-29).

The “Messiah”, of course, was the divinely anointed king who was predicted to come to Israel in the pages of the Old Testament. I can picture the apostles’ jaws dropping as Peter took a deep breath and blurted out the truth which they had all begun to suspect, but which none of them had yet dared to put into words.

It’s worth remembering that, historically, the Messiah was not thought of  as divine; great though King David was, for example, no-one ever suggested that he was God in human form. That conviction  would come later, after the miracle of the resurrection (and bolstered by the creeds). But it was simply a fact that the first “Christians”, who were all Jews and therefore firm believers in “only one God”, found themselves worshipping this man, contradictory though that may have seemed!

Where does all this lead us? Just here: if ever you have found believing in the deep mysteries of the Christian faith perplexing and confusing, even off-putting, be encouraged! Turn whole-heartedly to Jesus, a man with (no doubt) a tanned face and muscles hardened by his years working as a carpenter, a man who was at different times tired, puzzled, disappointed, angry, and ultimately killed by perhaps the most cruel method of execution ever devised by man, and accept with childlike simplicity that that death accomplishes the washing away of your sins and full reconciliation with God. Your life will never be the same.

The ”full package” – God and man in one person… that can wait. Just walk with Jesus, obey him, trust him, enjoy him. And the day will come when you will see him face to face. Yes, the very “man who is God”.

Lord Jesus, I do not claim to understand all that the Bible says about you, but I declare that I believe, with a simple, childlike trust. Please receive me, forgive my sins – and make me a new person, the person I was always meant to be. Amen.

What kind of man is this!

During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him… Hebrews 5:7-9

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God… The Word became flesh, and made his dwelling among us… John 1:1-14

Very soon after I was ordained to the ministry I tried to help a young woman in the church who suffered from serious depression. I’m afraid I didn’t do her much good, and she understandably turned to another minister for support (a healthy blow to my youthful arrogance!). She later told me that he did indeed say something which helped her: namely, that, in turning to Jesus, she should think of him more as human rather than as divine, as a man rather than as God-in-the-flesh. She was still a very new Christian, and this advice led to her seeing Jesus in a whole new way.

The other minister wasn’t denying that Jesus was divine. Not at all. But he was pointing out a different aspect of the truth, and taking that aspect on board seemed to be a significant stepping stone in the life of that young woman.

As Christians we tend to emphasise, indeed to glory in, the truth that we sometimes call the “incarnation”, the “enfleshment” - that Jesus really is “God-in-the-flesh” – and we gloss over his humanness: that he really was fully human, like you and me, “though without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).

Is it time for a re-think?

No books of the New Testament lay a greater stress on Jesus’ superiority over all men and women (not to mention angels) than John’s Gospel (especially chapter 1) and the Letter to the Hebrews. Yet at the same time it is Hebrews that gives us the striking words of chapter 5:7-9, where he is portrayed in unmistakably human terms, and John 4 too shows us him resting and “tired from the journey” when he met the Samaritan woman. He experienced agonies of prayer, “with fervent cries and tears” (can you see him, hear him?). Even more startling, he had to “learn obedience through what he suffered”, and had to be “made perfect” (but wasn’t he already perfect?).

How do verses like those help us? Regarding the young woman, I can’t remember now, some fifty years on. But here are one or two thoughts that I find helpful.

First, such verses, however startling, make Jesus more real for us. We see that, even though fully divine, he needed to grow, learn and endure hard times, just like us (and far, far worse).

The New Testament nowhere gives us a picture of Jesus as, say, a five-year-old boy or, at his synagogue school, playing with his friends in the playground (was he ever naughty, mischievous?). We find it hard to imagine him sitting at his desk frowning with concentration as he learned to read and write (nor, come to that, crying as a baby needing to have his nappy changed.)

But these are phases he must have gone through if indeed he was truly human. There’s a tiny glimpse into Jesus’ youth in Luke 2, which tells us exactly that: “Jesus went down to Nazareth with Joseph and Mary and was obedient to them… And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man”.

When Hebrews tells us that he “learned obedience through what he suffered”, that suggests that we too should accept the hard experiences of our lives not as grumble-points but, by God’s grace, as growth-points in our spiritual and moral development. Though he was without sin, it seems that obedience didn’t come naturally or easily to him.

As for being “made perfect”, that can’t mean being perfected in matters of right and wrong, but rather that he had to go through the normal human process of slowly, gradually reaching full manhood, progressing from childhood to adolescence to adulthood – as The Message translation of the Bible puts it, thus arriving at “the full stature of his maturity”. Yes, God in the flesh wasn’t spared the kind of growing-pains we know so well.

Some of those medieval “Madonna and child” paintings you see in art galleries portray the infant Jesus as a little man-baby perched grotesquely on Mary’s knee – a portrayal, surely, far, far removed from the truth. Likewise, I heard a preacher once, speaking about the psalms, make an off-the-cuff remark: “Of course, Jesus would have known all 150 of the psalms off by heart, because he was the Son of God”. No, no! That comment precisely illustrates the kind of misunderstanding that Hebrews 5:7-9 and Luke 2:52 exist to puncture.

Summing it up… Jesus, in his humanity, had to grow and learn, both in the “ordinary” business of everyday life and in the spiritual battle of walking in holiness with his heavenly Father.

And if him, how much more us? As the old hymn puts it, “Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer”. He will help us and if, like him, we persevere we too will “grow in favour with God and man”.

I’ve run out of space for my second thought, so I’ll have to do a second instalment. Please join me again next time.

Father, I can’t begin to fathom how the Lord Jesus could possibly be both fully human and fully divine. I simply rejoice that it is so. Lord Jesus, be my comfort, my strength and my hope. Holy Spirit, be my life, my guide and my energy day by day. Amen.

Silent voices - that still speak

And by faith Abel still speaks, even though he is dead. Hebrews 11:4

Last Sunday morning I was brushing my teeth to the accompaniment of BBC Radio 4 when I found myself listening to a tribute to Timothy Dudley-Smith, Anglican clergyman and prolific hymn-writer. He died last August at the age of 97.

His hymns have formed part of the backdrop of my Christian life – I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know some of them. Just two examples: “Lord, for the years your love has kept and guided” (where all five verses are truly meaningful prayers), and “Holy child, how still you lie” (a simple, lilting Christmas carol). The radio programme reminded me how much my life and faith have been enriched by them.

Dudley-Smith’s hymns tend to be fairly traditional in style, and they are rich in biblical truth, always focussed on God first and foremost, genuine poems in their own right, and set to attractive and singable tunes. Though helpful to the individual singer or reader, they are perfectly suited for congregational singing (unlike so many songs which tend to be all about I/me - I must confess a pet dislike of mine!). Sad is any church that doesn’t make good use of his output.

Then, as I put my toothbrush away, I found my mind turning to a more recent death: that of former US President Jimmy Carter, just a week or so earlier, at the age of 100. He too received many tributes, though often they seemed to focus more on his failures as a president than on his stature as a man of God. I suppose that, being known primarily as a politician, that was inevitable; but it was heart-warming and challenging too when people – not necessarily believers - referred to his “devout” and “humble” Chrisian faith.

Of course I never met or knew either of these men – but that doesn’t mean they made no impact on my life. They certainly did, in their different ways, one by writing powerful hymns, the other by setting a challenging example, albeit at a far distance. And so the verse about Abel in Hebrews 11:4 came to mind: “… by faith Abel still speaks, even though he is dead”.

Go back to Genesis 4, and you find no explanation why God “did not look with favour” on Cain’s offering. But he is certainly portrayed as morose and angry, whereas presumably Abel had a right, good spirit in the eyes of God.

I suggest two practical responses to this ancient story and the comment of the writer to the Hebrews…

First, give thanks to God for people long gone whom we still remember with fondness and appreciation, who, in effect, “still speak”.

Personally, I remember an elderly Sunday-school teacher who, I think, was the first person ever to teach me about Jesus (and who fascinated me with his alarmingly drippy nose). There is no way of estimating the level of his impact on my life – but for all I know I might never have become a Christian at all apart from him. I can only imagine that…

I remember too the young man who was the main influence in leading me to Christ. (Actually, he is still alive, as far as I know, though I have not had any contact with him for probably 50 years, and I think he would be amazed and embarrassed if ever he read this. Hi, Doug!)

I remember too whole battalions of church members I was privileged to pastor, and who taught me far more than I taught them – and pastored me far better than ever I pastored them.

Ordinary people – not by any means Jimmy Carters or Timothy Dudley-Smiths! But people who “still speak” into my life and, I’m sure, into the lives of many others. I hope you too can summon up such a list. If you can, why not take a few minutes to give thanks to God?

Second, take Hebrews 11:4 as a challenge.

The fact is that each of us will leave behind a legacy after we are dead, for good or ill. Of course, we must resist any temptation to try and live a good life and do good things in order to be remembered: God knows the truth about our motives, and we must live good lives and set good examples for no other reason than that it is the right thing to do.

But let’s be encouraged to think that I and you – yes even I and even you! – have the potential to influence generations not yet born. Jesus spoke of seed that bears fruit in God’s good time, and even where we may feel we have failed, the fact is that we will never know how or when some good seed may germinate in blessings we cannot imagine.

Of course, the story also has a dark side, for Cain left a legacy too: falling into jealousy and anger, and becoming the world’s first murderer. And I am sure that we all have memories that fill us with shame and regret, and which may have done real damage in someone’s life: I certainly do. And now it is impossible to offer an apology (though, to be brutally honest, I’m not sure that I would do so even if I had the chance). Can you identify with me in that? The best we can do then is to pray: “Lord, have mercy upon me, a sinner”.

But let’s be positive. Even long-silenced voices can still “speak” for good. And that, by God’s grace, includes mine and yours.

Remember, Christian, even some trivial little word or act of Christlikeness done today may make a difference to someone’s life a hundred years from now.

Father, I do thank you for long-gone Christlike people who have enriched my life in ways big and small. Please help me every day to do for others – others I may never know – what they did for me. Amen.

Lord, for ourselves, in living power remake us,/ Self on the cross and Christ upon the throne./ Past put behind us, for the future take us,/ Lord of our lives, to live for Christ alone. Amen!

Timothy Dudley-Smith.