Friday 30 April 2021

The sabbath principle

By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating he had done. Genesis 2:2-3

There was, I suppose, a funny side to the story. It’s a week or so now since I read it in the paper, and I haven’t remembered all the details, but the gist was pretty clear.

A high-flying businessman was determined to keep everything going as much as possible during lockdown, so he was working pretty much round the clock, including Zoom-meeting after Zoom-meeting, hour after hour, long into the night. He knew he was overdoing things; he knew he was neglecting his family; he knew he was not getting enough rest or exercise. But, well, it was only for a limited period, wasn’t it?

But… then it happened. He was sitting as usual at his computer when he began to feel unwell; seriously unwell. The (sort of) funny thing was that instead of thinking “Whoa, this doesn’t feel good! Am I having a heart-attack?” and calling for help, his immediate thought was “Oh no! This really is inconvenient! I’ve got another meeting in twenty minutes – I simply can’t afford a heart-attack at the moment!”

Well, the fact that he was able to write an article for the paper shows that in time he recovered. But the essence of his article was how he felt he had been taught a lesson, and how from now on he was going to live his life differently. (I wonder if he will stick to that decision…)

The message is simple: we need rest.

The human body is not a machine that can be forced into ever greater activity – not, at least, without serious risk. Nor the human mind. And that is why God, according to the Bible, has built regular periods of rest into his pattern for human life.

The encouragement that we need to take this seriously is even built into the story of creation: twice in Genesis 2:2-3 we read that “God rested…” And it is included in the Ten Commandments that God gave to Moses for his people Israel: Exodus 20:8-11 tells us that the seventh day is to be “holy”, which means “special” and “different”, a day when normal activities stop so that the people can focus on God.

Not, of course, that God needed rest! But hopefully we get the message: non-stop activity is foolish and even sinful. It puts unhealthy strain on our bodies and minds; it destroys the balanced life-style which God wants us to enjoy; it endangers our relationships with family, friends and work-mates.

If you know me personally you might feel I’ve got a bit of a nerve writing this, because you will know that I am well into my retirement. For one thing, I can’t claim that I have always practiced what I’m preaching here; and for another, what right does someone who is happily retired – given that (theoretically at least!) retirement is non-stop rest - have to offer advice to others who are still toiling at the coal-face?

That’s fair enough. But reading that article simply made me feel that this was an issue worth highlighting. After all, it’s not just that business-man’s experience we’re talking about; no, it’s an important theme in God’s word. I hope, and indeed believe, that just putting these thoughts into words might have the effect of saving someone’s life, or health, or marriage, or general well-being. Who knows. Just one person’s life would make it worthwhile.

I realise, of course, that your circumstances may be such that you have little control over your need for regular rest. But even so I hope this reminder might prompt you to make what small adjustments you can to your priorities: adjustments which will make a significant difference.

I wonder too if somebody reading this might be an employer, and thus responsible for the burden of work others are expected to bear. If so, recognising the need to be scrupulously fair, considerate and supportive in the way you treat your staff might be something you need to think about. All of us, one day, must stand before God’s scrutiny of the way we have lived our lives – and that includes how we have treated others.

The world into which the church was born was a world of masters and slaves, rather different (I hope!) from the world most of us live in. But passages like Colossians 4:1 can still be very relevant: “Masters, provide your slaves with what is right and fair, because you know that you also have a master in heaven”.

Whatever, let’s take seriously the vital principle of the sabbath rest; it could be a matter of life and death.

Heavenly Father, even though I do not remember the sabbath day in the same way as the people of Bible times, please help me to take the sabbath principle seriously, for the sake of my own well-being, that of those for whom I am responsible - and for the sake of your glory. Amen.

Tuesday 27 April 2021

Do I have to go to church to be a Christian? (3)

The Lord said to Moses, ‘Speak to the Israelites and say to them: These are my appointed festivals, the appointed festivals of the Lord, which you are to proclaim as sacred assemblies’… Leviticus 23:1-2

Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. Luke 4:14-16

And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing but encouraging one another… Hebrews 10:24-25

Last time I gave some of the Bible background which encourages us to take seriously the practice of meeting together as Christians  – of “going to church”.

We saw how, from the very birth of Israel as a nation, God gave detailed instructions about both big annual festivals and also regular weekly services on the sabbath day (eg, Leviticus 23). And then how Jesus, a faithful Jew, obeyed these instructions, both by visiting the Jerusalem temple for the festivals, and also by following the “custom” of regular synagogue worship (Luke 4:14-16).

This time I want to try and be very practical about how this applies to our own lives. I want to ask two questions: first, Why might I be tempted to get out of the habit?; and second, What good does going to church do me?

But first, a word about attitude. The question we started with – “Do I have to go to church to be a Christian?” – betrays a wrong attitude, as if going to church is a duty or chore we feel we had better carry out, however grumblingly: rather like going to the dentist at regular intervals, or making sure I get the washing up done.

No! Meeting with others for regular worship should be a pleasure, the highlight of the week. And this applies even when it has also become a routine and therefore lost the freshness of novelty.

I can only suggest that if we have developed an attitude whereby regular worship is just a tedious duty, then it’s time we got before God and had a thorough self-examination. Just as we recognise various symptoms in our bodies as signs of physical ill-health, so too such an attitude of mind is a sign of spiritual ill-health.

But now to those two questions…

First, Why might I be tempted to get out of the habit?

The writer of Hebrews 10:25 urges his readers not to let this happen “as some are in the habit of doing”. Apparently the problem is not new! – it goes right back to the earliest days (though that’s pretty cold comfort).

It’s clear that it needs to be something pretty serious to justify breaking off from “meeting together”. The kind of feeble excuses we sometimes make for ourselves just won’t wash, and point to that spiritual ill-health I mentioned earlier…

“I’m just so busy!” What, too busy for God? Too busy for Jesus, who gave his life for us? It’s time to review our priorities!

“It’s really rather boring!” All right, our minister or preacher may not be the greatest, but do we pray for him or her? Do we go with an open, encouraging and expectant spirit?

“I really can’t get on with certain people!” Oh, poor you! But have you considered that the problem could lie with you, not the other person? “So-and-so really is a pain in the neck” we might think. But what if So-and-so is thinking exactly the same thing about you…? Have you tried – really tried - to see things from their point of view?

“I don’t like the way my church is going!” Well, we are never going to find a church where we see eye to eye with everything. Is it possible we need to take a fresh look at our own opinions – could some of them be sheer prejudices, or ingrained views we’ve never actually thought through?

Second, What good does going to church do me?

The Christian life is often hard, and we can easily become discouraged, so it’s worth thinking hard about Hebrews 10:24-25. The writer talks about “spurring one another on to love and good deeds” and “encouraging one another”.

Putting it bluntly, I need you, and (amazing though it may seem) you need me!

Regular corporate worship acts like a pulley; it draws us back to an awareness of God. Of course, a Christian’s life should ideally be centred on God every minute of every day. But in the sheer busyness of life we all know how hard that is. So meeting to worship, to sing, to pray and to receive God’s word helps us to re-focus.

One of the things we have learned only too well during the pandemic is that we need human contact - and while Zoom may be better than nothing, it’s only a weak substitute for the real thing. Just the sight of your face may be what I need to challenge and spur me on! Yes, really! We can all lapse from “love and good deeds”, becoming lazy and careless.

Personally, I look back over more than half a century of church membership and attendance, and I can only say that one of the greatest joys has been the people who have loved me, taught me, challenged me, perhaps corrected and rebuked me, helped me in practical ways, and been to me truly what the Bible says we all are, brothers and sisters.

All right, perhaps in theory you can be a Christian without going to church, in the sense of believing the right things. But make no mistake, you won’t be a very good Christian: not much use to God, to your fellow-believers, to your non-Christian contacts, or to yourself.

Thanks be to God for his family on earth, the church! Let’s take to heart what the Bible says, and get stuck in!

Heavenly Father, your church can often seem frustrating, demanding, even infuriating. But that’s because it’s made up of people like me. Teach me to value and cherish it, and to aim to make it just that little bit stronger and better in whatever ways I can. Amen.

Saturday 24 April 2021

Do I have to go to church to be a Christian? (2)

The Lord said to Moses, ‘Speak to the Israelites and say to them: These are my appointed festivals, the appointed festivals of the Lord, which you are to proclaim as sacred assemblies’… Leviticus 23:1-2

Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. Luke 4:14-16

And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing but encouraging one another… Hebrews 10:24-25

A question that’s been put to me is “Do I have to go to church to be a Christian?”, and last time I tried to clear the ground, so to speak, in order to get straight what we mean – or should mean – by “going to church”.

The key point is that church isn’t a building you go to but a community you belong to. It was founded by Jesus himself. After Simon Peter confessed that “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God”, he replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah… on this rock I will build my church” (Matthew 16:16-18). Yes, his church, not ours.

So… anyone who believes in Jesus as Lord and Saviour is automatically part of the church, his very body on earth. Why then would they even think for one minute that meeting with their fellow-believers is just a take-it-or-leave-it thing? Did Jesus found the church in order for us to arrogantly tell him we don’t need it?

The Bible throws a whole lot more light on all this. Let’s gather it up under three headings…

1.   The Old Testament background.

Jesus was a Jew. That’s a fact of history we must never forget. His mind was steeped in the Jewish scriptures - what we call “the Old Testament” - and he saw his life and ministry as fulfilling many of its prophecies.

One thing he will have known from his earliest days is that the nation of Israel - God’s chosen people – had always been expected to meet together on regular occasions. When today we read Old Testament books such as Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers, we are likely to feel a bit puzzled; why has God given us all these details about his ancient people! No doubt there are various reasons. But one of them was to din it into our heads what kind of people Israel was intended to be: and that included being a people who shared and celebrated their faith together in corporate gatherings.

At the top I’ve picked out Leviticus 23, but I could have gone for plenty of other passages where the Old Testament law speaks of “appointed festivals… sacred assemblies”.

The main annual gatherings that Jesus would have known were: Passover (Unleavened Bread), celebrating Israel’s exodus from Egypt; Firstfruits (Harvest); Weeks (Pentecost, the end of the grain harvest); the Blowing of Trumpets (a one-off day of celebration); above all, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, when the whole nation came to God for the cleansing of their sins.

These were high points in the Jewish year (and still are today); and they were knitted together by more routine events, the weekly Sabbath Day, and a monthly New Moon festival.

God obviously decided that his people needed a rhythm to their lives, whether big annual celebrations that marked the passing of the year, or the weekly seventh-day rest. So while the Jews of course had (and still have) a very personal element to their faith, the idea of a Jew “going solo” in their religious observance was simply unthinkable.

And that principle of a weekly and annual rhythm is carried over also into the Christian church: we focus particularly on Sunday, “the Lord’s Day”, plus Christmas, Easter and Whitsun.

2.   The example of Jesus.

Luke 4:16 couldn’t be more plain. After his baptism in the River Jordan and his testing by Satan in the wilderness, Jesus began his earthly ministry in Nazareth where “on the sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom”. Note those last four words!

It’s significant that the Greek word “synagogue” means simply “place for coming together”. In Old Testament days the Jews would gather in either the “tabernacle” – the big portable tent they carried about with them during their time of journeying to the promised land; or the “temple” - the magnificent building in Jerusalem built originally in the reign of King Solomon.

But once they were settled in the promised land, more local and ordinary places for gathering and worship – though not for sacrifice – were needed. So the synagogues were perhaps like what we might call “chapels”, and were the focal point of the community.

Picture Saturday morning in Nazareth. The sun is shining, and from every part of the town people are making their way to this ordinary-looking little building where they are used to gathering. And among them, just one of the crowd, comes… Jesus. Why? Because it was “his custom”, as a faithful Jew. It was what you did.

So back to the question I asked earlier: If gathering for worship and fellowship was an essential part of his life, how dare we imagine that we don’t need it? Do we know better than him? Coming together is part of the DNA of the church.

I’ve run out of space again, so I’ll leave till next time my third heading – how the early church applied these biblical principles, and how we today should do the same.

Father, thank you that by faith in Jesus we have become children of Abraham, and have inherited the scriptures of the Old Testament. Help me to grasp that I am bonded together with all your people, and privileged to be part of a family that shares a common life. Amen.

Wednesday 21 April 2021

Do I have to go to church to be a Christian?

The Lord said to Moses, ‘Speak to the Israelites and say to them: These are my appointed festivals, the appointed festivals of the Lord, which you are to proclaim as sacred assemblies’… Leviticus 23:1-2

Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. Luke 4:14-16

And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing but encouraging one another… Hebrews 10:24-25

The dentist was having a good poke around my mouth one day when he said, “Did you know that you grind your teeth?” To which the answer was “No, I didn’t, since you ask”. “Oh yes you do”, he said. “It must be while you’re asleep”.

Well, perhaps so. But thinking about it later I came up with an alternative explanation. Could it be because of the times I’ve heard someone say, “Sorry, but I don’t have any time for organised religion”? That, I suspect, is enough to get anybody’s teeth grinding (after you’ve hit them a nice juicy punch on the nose, of course).

The obvious reply, if you’re not too bothered about being polite, is “Well, what do you want then? Disorganised religion?” Grrr…

I suspect that the person who “has no time for organised religion” is really saying, “I don’t mind religion as long as I can have it on my own terms, at my own convenience, and at no expense in terms of effort, time or money. Especially, as long as I don’t have to get up at inconvenient times and in all sorts of weather, and go to some dreary building and sit for a dreary hour in the company of a group of dreary people I have nothing in common with, engaging in some kind of dreary ritual that makes no sense”.

That’s a travesty of the truth, of course; but I wonder if that’s the way some people’s minds work.

Why am I talking in this cynical way?

Because I expect soon to be speaking at a church service under the title “Can I be a Christian and not go to church?” I’m using this blog (I might as well come clean) to try and get some thoughts into shape so I have something useful to say. So bear with me, please…

I hope it goes without saying that there’s a whole lot more to being a Christian than “going to church”. A whole lot more! Indeed, you might go to church every day of your life and not be a Christian.

How wonderful it would be if we could really get it into everybody’s head that “church” is not “a building you go to” but a community you belong to. It is, in New Testament terms, “the body of Christ” on earth, the vast world-wide family of all men and women who love him, trust him and seek to bring his light and love to everyone they meet.

This means that if you are a believer in Jesus then you are already part of the church, whether you like it or not – and whether you gather with your fellow-believers or not. (Let’s stop talking about “going to church” and talk instead about “gathering regularly with fellow-believers”.)

But that raises the key question: Can you be a Christian and also be indifferent to something that mattered so much to Jesus? Did he found the church for fun? Did he found it as a kind of optional extra, an add-on for those who happen to like that kind of thing, so that we might say, “Well thanks, Jesus, for founding the church – but personally I don’t think I need it, thank you very much, so you won’t expect me to show up at gatherings, will you?”

Do we know better than him? Are we his pupils or his teachers?

There are many Christians in our world who would love nothing more than to be able to gather with others – and who would shake their heads in disbelief that we can be so casual.

I’m thinking, of course, of the sick, the frail, the elderly; people who might say, “Yes, I used to be an absolute regular, never happier than when I was able to join in fellowship and to serve. But now I just can’t do it…” (Sadly, they might sometimes add, “And now that I can’t go any more, nobody seems to bother much with me; it’s as if I just don’t matter any more… And oh, how I miss them…”)

And I’m thinking of those for whom gathering together is just not possible because of persecution. Perhaps an occasional furtive meeting with a small group might happen, but a full gathering of the  local church...? No! How they must envy us! And what if you’re the one, solitary, Christian in your locality or village? Imagine that.

I’m running out of space, and I’ve hardly started. What I want to do, of course, is to root in the Bible - God’s word to us - what I say at that meeting I mentioned. But that will have to wait till next time.

And if, in the meantime, you have any thoughts to share or suggestions to offer, please do get in touch. I’d love to hear from you.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the gift of your church, even with its many faults and weaknesses. Teach me to value it, to serve it, to enjoy it, and to do everything I can to strengthen it. Amen.

Saturday 17 April 2021

Wake up, Lord!

Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us for ever. Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and   oppression? Psalm 44:23-24

Psalm 44 is almost unique in the whole book – apart from anything else, it springs a big surprise which forces us to re-think a lot of what we usually take for granted. (Why not read it right through now and see if you can spot the surprise… Please have it open beside you anyway.)

It divides into four main sections…

1. 1. Give God the glory for past blessings - verses 1-8.

The writer looks back to the ways God has blessed Israel in the past. He is clearly thinking mainly of the events of the Exodus, when God brought Israel out of captivity and led them through the desert to a new home in the Promised Land.

He highlights three important things. First, it was God who did this, not their own military might (verse 3). Second, he didn’t do it because they were especially good. No, far from it! He did it purely because he had set his love on them and decided to use them. Third, what applies to the nation applies also to the individual – notice how “them” in verses 1-3 gives way to “me” in verses 4-8, especially verse 6.

So… we are to expect blessings in our lives – but we must never take credit for them. To God be the glory! Without him we can achieve simply nothing.

2.   2. Be honest about disappointments - verses 9-16.

“But” can be a very important word in the Bible. It turns things round – as it does here in verse 9 (and no, this isn’t the surprise I mentioned at the start). Yes, says the psalmist, there were wonderful blessings in the past, “but now you have rejected us and humbled us…”. What’s going on, Lord!

He almost seems angry with God, almost blaming him for going back on his promises. The Message Bible translates verse 9: “But now you’ve walked off and left us, you’ve disgraced us and won’t fight for us.”

Many of us would hesitate to talk to God in such a way. But given that he knows the feelings of our hearts, why try to cover it up? God’s shoulders are big enough to take it!

Is it time you came to God for a real unburdening session? – even if that means virtually letting rip?

3.   3. Don’t wallow in false guilt – verses 17-22.

It’s in verse 17 that the psalmist springs his surprise. Usually, reading the psalms, we would expect it to say, “All right, Lord, we confess that we have failed you and sinned against you – the reason you have abandoned us is in order to punish us; it’s only what we deserve…”

But no! The writer is adamant that all these bad things have happened in spite of their continuing faithfulness. And, in verses 18-19 he lays it on pretty strong: “Our hearts had not turned back; our feet had not strayed from your path. But…”.

In verses 20-22, he seems to be saying: “God is perfectly able to see neglect on the part of his people and to react accordingly, as he sees fit. No problem there. But that isn’t what’s happening here!” No – “It’s for your sake that we face death all day long…”

In other words, God has a purpose – we might even call it a secret agenda - in allowing these things to happen, and it isn’t simply to punish us for our sins. Sometimes we simply have to summon up our faith and trust that his hidden purposes “will ripen fast”, as the hymn puts it

So… what? The application is that we should not accuse ourselves when we are not in fact at fault. There is such a thing as false guilt. God wants us humble, no doubt about that – but he doesn’t want us grovelling (unless, of course, there is a real reason for grovelling); he doesn’t want us “beating ourselves up”.

This, by the way, seems also to be what John means in 1 John 3:19-20: there are times “when our hearts condemn us” – but when that condemnation is unnecessary, and we should rather “set our heart at rest in his presence”. Relax! Rest in God’s gracious love!

Are any of us carrying a weight of unnecessary guilt? accusing ourselves when we have no need to? It’s time to stop it!

4.   4. Cry out to God! – verses 23-26.

Have you ever cried out to God to wake up?

Again, most of us would probably hesitate to do that. But the psalmist is prepared to! What wonderful boldness! “Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep?...”

There’s a close affinity between the psalmist and Job. The psalmist pleads with God on behalf of the nation to wake up; Job does much the same thing on his own behalf. But the message is basically the same.

There’s a lot we can glean from this powerful psalm. Not least…

Approach God with complete honesty; share with him all your doubts and fears, your hurts and disappointments. If you are conscious of sin, then of course recognise it and confess it. But if not – well, why not take a leaf out of the psalmist’s book? “Come on, Lord, wake up! It’s time you exerted yourself on my behalf!”

He can take it!

Dear Lord God, please tune my heart to the promptings of the Holy Spirit – to feel guilty and bad when that is as it should be, but to know the forgiving comfort of your love at times when my heart is right with you. Amen.

Saturday 10 April 2021

The shaking of the foundations

When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do? Psalm 11:3

What is the mood of that question? Despair? Hopelessness? Cynicism?

Certainly, it’s what is known as a “rhetorical” question, one that doesn’t expect an answer, but is just a way of getting things off your chest. You can almost see the writer shrugging his shoulders as he asks it.

It would seem that wickedness is prevailing and goodness is under threat. To make matters worse, he has friends who give him demoralizing advice: “Flee like a bird to your mountain” (verse 1). Things are out of control! There’s nothing we can do! So run away! And he pleads with them, “How can you say that to me…?’” (verse 1). What sort of friends are you!

Well, the question of verse 3 may indeed be a rhetorical question. But if we think about it with a cool mind, perhaps it’s no bad thing to seek an answer: yes, when the foundations are being destroyed, what indeed can the righteous do? For this isn’t a question which belongs only to the world of the Old Testament, but one which can rear its head in any and every generation.

You may feel it at the moment. I certainly do.

On the news recently we saw buses burning and people throwing stones and petrol-bombs in Belfast. The army in Myanmar have been shooting people in cold blood in their cities. Horrible stories keep emerging about what seem to be brain-washing centres in China, determined to “re-educate” Muslims (and others) to be good, obedient communists.

Or it may be more personal matters. I’m sure we all know people, if not ourselves, who are wrestling with major health problems, or marriage crises, or financial worries that keep them awake at night. The coronavirus statistics are still heading upwards in many countries, even if not here in Britain: hospitals are having to turn people away, and bodies left unburied.

And are we heading for a mental health crisis?

We see respect for the Bible and the church at, it seems, an all-time low. Time-honoured moral principles to do with sex and relationships have been swept aside. The idea of objective truth – not just “your truth” or “my truth”, but actual truth – has gone by the board under a welter of “fake news”, and arguments are dominated by the person who shouts loudest.

A shaking of the foundations indeed.

Can Psalm 11 help us find a place to stand at such a time? Yes, it can.

For one thing, the writer declares his faith: “In the Lord I take refuge” (verse 1). His faith in God may have wobbled a bit, but it’s still there; oh yes, it’s still there: “The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord is on his heavenly throne” (verse 4).

It reminds me of that time when “some Pharisees” urged Jesus to run away to escape Herod’s death squad (Luke 13:31). They meant well, perhaps (Pharisees weren’t all bad!). But Jesus will have none of it, any more than the psalmist here: he tells those Pharisees to tell “that fox” exactly what he can do… For himself, he is going to “press on”.

In language which may seem rather startling to us, the psalmist declares that God “hates with a passion” those who are opposed to him. Indeed, he will “rain fiery coals and burning sulphur” upon them (verses 5-6). Wickedness may indeed seem to be prevailing at the present time – but it’s only for a time. God is a God of justice, and his justice will prevail.

The psalm ends with a calm, simple statement of conviction: “The Lord is righteous, he loves justice; the upright will see his face” (verse 7).

Trusting God in the teeth of doubt and trouble is a skill we need to learn as Christians; the psalmist makes that plain.

But trust – faith - has to be coupled with action, of course.

That question – “When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?” – can be answered very plainly: “They can roll up their sleeves and fill their lives with good things, that’s what!” Like Jesus, they can “press on”.

Listen to Paul talking to the Christians of Thessalonica, who were showing themselves to be a bit flaky:

Live in peace with each other…  warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone.  Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else. Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances… Do not quench the Spirit. Do not treat prophecies with contempt but test them all; hold on to what is good, reject every kind of evil. (1 Thessalonians 5:14-22).

None of that defeatist nonsense there about fleeing like a bird to your mountain!

The great evangelist and founder of Methodism, John Wesley, put the same thought even more briefly: Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.

I trust we can all say a big Amen to that – whether the foundations are being shaken or not!

Lord God, give me the grace of your Holy Spirit to fill my days with Christlike deeds and words in both good times and bad. Amen.

Thursday 8 April 2021

No regrets?

As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He said to another man, “Follow me.” But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Luke 9:57-62

Every minister is familiar with the person whose enthusiasm outweighs their realism. At first you just can’t hold them back, but very quickly it all fizzles out into nothing, like a spectacular firework.

To be fair, we can’t be sure that’s what happened to the three people Luke describes in this passage, but it’s hard not to wonder…

The first one approaches Jesus and simply declares “I will follow you wherever you go”.

Wonderful! But Jesus feels a need to bring him down to earth with a bump: “Foxes have holes, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head”. As if to say, Are you ready for a vagabond life? For homelessness? Are you prepared to give up any prospect of the kind of settled, reasonably comfortable life which most people take for granted as normal?

The second man doesn’t in fact offer to follow Jesus at all: no, in his case it’s Jesus himself who takes the initiative: “He said to another man, ‘Follow me’”.

The man’s reply suggests that he would be ready to do so, but he adds the request “First let me go and bury my father”. Seems reasonable enough? Yet Jesus gives a reply so demanding as to border on the outrageous: “Let the dead bury their own dead…”

Did Jesus see something in this man that he sensed wasn’t quite true? He certainly set him a severe test.

The third man also makes what seems a reasonable request: “Let me go back and say goodbye to my family”. (Isn’t that exactly what Levi seems to have done when he threw a big party to celebrate his call (Luke 5:27-29)?)

It’s not entirely easy to know what Jesus means by his reply: “No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God”.

Does he mean, “OK, that’s fine – but make no mistake, once you’ve said your farewells, there must be no hankering after the old life!”? Or does he mean, “No! This mission is too urgent even for that!”

We can only speculate. And we can only guess what decision these three men did in fact make: Luke doesn’t tell us.

But what we do know is the point Jesus was making in his harsh-seeming words to them: Following me is a serious business. I have no use for the half-hearted. With me it’s all or nothing at all. And that is a message for everyone – including you or me – who decides to become a follower of Jesus.

Are we up for that?

Imagine a different, alternative future for Jesus’ apostles…

It’s forty years on, and Peter, James and John are now old men. They’re together one afternoon enjoying a drink and gazing out at the Sea of Galilee where they have spent their lives.

Peter says: “Do you remember that day all those years ago when we were right here, ready to get into the boat, and Jesus came along and asked us to follow him?” “Yes!” says James, “I remember it well. We agreed, didn’t we, that if ever anybody was worth following, it was him. But of course it was out of the question. We had a living to earn! bread to put on the table!” “True”, says John, and then pauses… “But I must admit there are times I wish we had decided to go with him. Oh, I know we haven’t had a bad life here in Galilee; but it’s hard not to wonder what might have been…”

How many of us, when we reach the end of our days, will wonder what might have been? – perhaps with deep regret.

Well, we can’t rewrite our history. But we can, and do, write our own future - precisely by the dozens of decisions, some big and some small, which we make day by day. And the thing it’s so easy to overlook is this: even though it can be hard, and demand big sacrifices, the way of Christ is the best way, the way of fulfilment, indeed, of ultimate joy.

Let me put it in truly no-nonsense terms: for all the pain of taking up our cross to follow Jesus, it’s in our own best interests to do so.

Why not read again about those three would-be disciples? Why not use their stories to prompt reflection on your own still-unfinished story?

And just in case it seems simply too demanding, why not reflect also on another crazy-seeming thing Jesus said: “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30)?

Lord Jesus, you call us to take up our cross to follow you. But you tell us too that your yoke is easy, and your burden light. Help me daily, by my obedience, accept the challenge of the first and to prove the truth of the second. Amen.

Sunday 4 April 2021

I once was blind, but now I see...

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognised him… Luke 24:30-31

Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realised that they were naked; so they sewed fig-leaves together and made coverings for themselves. Genesis 3:7

Do you ever fail to see the obvious? Do you ever look straight past something that’s right in front of your nose?

I’m afraid I do. I read in a paper once about the death of someone I knew just slightly. The article included a small photo. A week or so later somebody said to me “Had you heard that Dave has died?” And I replied, shocked, “No! Really?” Yet it was Dave whose photo I had seen.

Somehow I had completely failed to see the connection. I had no reason to expect to see Dave’s photo in the paper, so when in fact I did, well, all I saw was a total stranger. Once it was pointed out to me, of course, I thought, “How could I be so stupid! How could I be so blind!”

Go back two thousand years…

It’s the afternoon of Easter Sunday. Two people are walking sadly from Jerusalem to Emmaus, roughly seven miles away. Luke says one of them is called Cleopas, and according to tradition the other is his wife Mary. (John 19:25 mentions a “Mary of Clopas” standing with the other women at the foot of the cross: Clopas could be an alternative spelling of Cleopas, so Mary could well be his wife.)

These two, whoever they are, are completely confused by the events of the last few hours. They are disciples of Jesus, and have seen him crucified on the Friday. They have sat through that wretched, utterly miserable Saturday (what a horrible, dreary day that must have been!). Now they are heading to Emmaus where, presumably, they live.

But before setting off they have been puzzled by rumours: Jesus, it is said, is alive again! For some reason they don’t have time to check the facts. They just mull it over together as they walk. We can only imagine their conversation…

And then they are joined by a stranger. It is Jesus himself – but they don’t recognise him. Perhaps it’s getting dark (no street lights, remember). Perhaps his face is partly cloaked. Perhaps their minds are so numbed that they simply can’t process what’s right before their eyes; they are in a state of what today might be called “denial”.

He listens as they pour out their story, and their confusion. Then he explains to them “what was said in all the scriptures concerning himself”.

They still don’t “get it”. But they persuade him to share a meal with them. And then… something happens. He takes it on himself to divide the loaf – and suddenly they understand. “They knew him in the breaking of the bread”.

The scales fall from their eyes. They see.

It’s rather like Mary Magdalene that same morning. She finds the tomb open and empty. She assumes the body has been stolen. She becomes aware of a man standing near her. He asks why she is so upset. She thinks he is the gardener, and asks him where the body is. He speaks – just a single word; her name: “Mary”.

And in that split second she too “sees”: “Teacher!” she cries out. She knew him in the speaking of her name.

It’s the greatest moment of your life when your eyes are opened and you see Jesus yourself for who he really is: the crucified and risen Son of God. Nothing can ever be the same again.

Has that yet happened to you?

That moment of revelation is both a gift – something that happens to you – and a command – something you are told to do: to believe, to put your faith in him. I don’t fully understand how to marry those two things together: if something is a gift, how can it also be something required? But experience shows that it is so.

We mustn’t use the fact that our eyes haven’t yet been opened as an excuse, a cop-out. (In verses 25-26 Jesus chastises them for their failure to see.) God calls us to see. And if he calls us to see, then we needn’t doubt that he will make it happen.

Can you think of another couple in the Bible of whom it is said that “their eyes were opened”? Sadly, in this case it was their downfall, not their blessing: “they knew that they were naked”, and so they took steps to cover their shame. Futile steps, of course. Yes, Adam and Eve right at the beginning (Genesis 3:7).

The first creation went wrong. But now, on Easter Day, God is giving birth to a new creation, a creation in which we are all invited to have a part. Jesus is the new Adam, the second Adam, the victorious Adam. (See how Paul opens this up in 1 Corinthians 15:45.)

Are you yet part of this wonderful new creation? Have your eyes yet been opened? Simply pray with an open and humble heart…

Lord Jesus Christ, please open my eyes. Please help me to see. Amen.

Thursday 1 April 2021

Jesus our sin-bearer

To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps. “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.” When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. “He himself bore our sins” in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.” For “you were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. 1 Peter 2:20-25

A man in the prime of life dies in torture nailed to a cross.

This was a common event in the days of the Roman empire; the Roman soldiers were expert killers, and they showed no sentiment or pity, so you stepped out of line at your peril. Anyone watching might well shake their head and think, “Oh well, he knew the risks; I’ll just try and make sure the same things doesn’t happen to me”.

But that particular Friday was different. The followers of Jesus saw a profound and world-changing significance in what happened to their teacher. Peter, their leader, wrote about it many years later, inviting his readers to view Jesus from various different angles; and this is what we find in the tightly-packed little passage,1 Peter 2:20-25.

First, says Peter, see Jesus as your example.

At this point in his letter he is giving advice to slaves (many of the first Christians were slaves) about how to conduct themselves. And, amazingly, it’s to Jesus that he points as an example.

Today we feel uncomfortable reading about slaves, and rightly so. But slavery was part of the very texture of life in New Testament days, and Peter felt - especially given that its abolition was still a distant dream - that even when burning with inner rage at the cruelty involved, the best thing to do was… to look at Jesus. No retaliation, no hatred, no returning sin for sin.

No wonder that hard-bitten centurion watched Jesus die and exclaimed “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Matthew 27:54).

Second, see Jesus as your sinless leader.

Quoting from Isaiah 53:9 Peter writes, “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth”. In the Gospels Jesus is portrayed as the ideal, model human being, and he tells his disciples to “be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect”. We are likely to reply that perfection is not possible in this world, and that is true. But nothing less than that should be our aim!

Do we easily settle for second best?

Third, see Jesus as your example of trust.

Instead of hitting back - or even talking back - Jesus simply “entrusted himself to him who judges justly”. He believed that God would put all things right, and so he refused to take them into his own hands.

This doesn’t mean we today shouldn’t stand up for justice, especially on behalf of others, but we do so in the confidence that God our Father is more than able to right all wrongs. At the moment of his death Jesus cried out, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Luke 23:46).

This is a prayer we would do well to echo every day - even when there is no risk of death. Oh to learn the skill of trusting implicitly in God, minute by minute and day by day!

Fourth, see Jesus as your sin-bearer.

Still drawing his thoughts from Isaiah 53, Peter tells us, “He bore our sins in his body on the tree”, surely one of the Bible’s greatest declarations.

Human sin, something we are all afflicted with, cannot just be left to fade away, for it won’t; it will only grow and deepen, becoming ever more poisonous. No, it has to be dealt with, and God has decided that the price that has to be paid is that of blood-sacrifice.

If you have ever tried to read your way through the Old Testament books of Leviticus and Numbers you may very well have got rather bogged down in all the detail. That’s understandable. But the overall point is clear: God laid down for the people of Israel an elaborate system of sacrifice to enable their sins to be cleansed.

And what happened on the cross was the ultimate climax of that system. When Jesus walked the path to Calvary he carried not just the cross but also the weight of human sin, and the blood he shed was all that was needed to pay the price.

We do, of course, have it in our power to turn down that offer of the price he paid; he doesn’t force his mercy and kindness upon us. But in this case we continue to carry our load of sin.

And so we need to put to ourselves the question: As I watch Jesus walk to Calvary, do I see him as my sin-bearer? Or am I just a bystander, one of the crowd? Good Friday is simply meaningless if we have never understood it in this light.

Fifth, see Jesus as your doctor, your shepherd and your guardian.

When we confess our sins and put our trust in Jesus we come to the great watershed in our lives – bigger than a first job, or marriage, or parenthood. Everything changes. Peter compares us to sick people made well… to lost sheep restored to their shepherd… to orphans once abandoned but now secure again.

Above all, to use Peter’s exact words, we find ourselves in a place where we “die to sins and live for righteousness”. Taking up our cross to follow Jesus means becoming all that God himself originally intended for us to be. And we grow daily in that new personhood – until one day we will see him face to face.

So… the key question for Good Friday: Are you yet embarked on that journey?

The price is paid,/ Come let us enter in/ To all that Jesus died/ To make our own./ For every sin/ More than enough he gave/ And bought our freedom / From each guilty stain… Lord Jesus, I live to thank you for the price you paid. Amen.