A contradiction in terms?

If a widow has children or grandchildren, these should learn first of all to put their religion into practice by caring for their own family… for this is pleasing to God. 1 Timothy 5:4

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:26-27

In my daily paper the other day there was an obituary column of one of the most famous writers of her generation, a woman of very humble origins who worked her way up to become massively successful (not to mention extremely rich) as a novelist. What specially caught my attention was the way she described her attitude to what we might call “spiritual matters”: “I’ve kept my faith”, she said, “but I’m not religious”.

That’s a statement to juggle with! You might think it’s a flat contradiction in terms – to have “faith”, surely, is exactly what it means to be “religious”? Or, putting it the other way round, not being “religious” means precisely not having “faith”? What could that writer have meant?

The confusion arises from putting together two quite common words, faith and religion, which are both as slippery as eels, often meaning just whatever the person speaking happens to mean by them.

Personally, I hate being described as religious. I used to go to a barber shop where the staff entertained themselves by trying to solve that day’s crossword as they clipped our scalps. I managed to come up with an answer or two over the months, from which they got into the habit of reserving the “religious” clues for me… “Oh, you’re religious, aren’t you? You might know this…”. To which I wanted to reply, “Er, well, actually, I certainly seek to follow Jesus, but I wouldn’t call myself religious…” But I didn’t, of course, in case I might come across as some sort of self-righteous crank.

It's interesting that the Bible uses the word religion only sparingly. I’ve just looked up the KJV and NIV versions of the New Testament, and the word is used only a dozen or so times (though something depends on the translation of various Greek words), and even then not always in very complimentary ways. Unfortunately there isn’t always a usable alternative for us today, but it still makes me squirm. I feel like shouting “Death to all religion!”

But what about “faith”? Ah, that’s a very different matter. It can of course mean “a body of doctrine”, a summary of what particular religious people might believe – as in “the Muslim faith” or “the Christian faith”. I’m much more comfortable with that.

But by far the most precious meaning, surely, is “trust”. This simple but beautiful word conjures up the idea of relationship. The deepest meaning is to do with people; it’s about putting our confidence in another person, a flesh and blood human being. And the wonder of Christianity is that the greatest “person” who exists, God himself, invites us to put our trust in him.

To this we might say “But God himself is not what you have just said, a flesh and blood person. He is spirit!” This is true, certainly. But perhaps the greatest claim of Christianity is that this eternal, holy God “became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14) so that we can know him personally – and trust him. Jesus is the human embodiment of God, and he teaches us to speak to our God as “Father”. Could there be a warmer, more intimate word?

So what did that writer mean when she said “I have kept my faith, but I am not religious”? We can’t be sure, of course, and it’s not for me to judge, but I suspect something like this: “I still regard myself as a Christian, but I don’t go to church”. (Others sometimes say a very similar thing: “I believe in a spiritual reality, but I have no time for organised religion”.)

The sadness of this is that it results in the worst of all worlds. It’s like saying: “I want the comfort and security of believing in God, but I don’t want the hassle or sacrifice of going to any trouble that that might entail. I don’t want the inconvenience, for example, of getting involved in services of worship, especially if they seem a bit dull or require spending valuable time with people I don’t particularly like. I want faith on my own terms, to be practiced at my own convenience, probably in solitude and perhaps along with a cup of coffee or a glass of something”.

Is that a fair description of the “faith” of such a person? If so, surely they have missed the whole point of Christianity, a faith that involves nothing less, according to Jesus, than “taking up our cross to follow him”, of entering into a deep, warm relationship with Almighty God himself, of learning to love as brothers and sisters people we find it hard to like, and of being re-moulded as a human being into the man or woman I was always intended by God to be.

The nineteenth century preacher C H Spurgeon said something to the effect, “The trouble with many people is that they have just enough Christianity to make them miserable, but not enough to give them joy”. Yes! And isn’t that exactly the worst of both worlds?

I’ve put at the top a couple of New Testament quotes to challenge us about what we might call “true religion”. Perhaps we’ll come back to it next time to find a more positive understanding of what it means to get “faith” and “religion” to merge into one. Please join me.

Dear Father, thank you that I can call you father! Please give me the gift of simple, childlike faith, so that I can know the comfort of trusting day by day in your tender loving care. Amen.

Did God create hell?

This is good, and pleases God our Saviour, who wants all people to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. 1 Timothy 2:4

The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. 2 Peter 3:9

For God has bound everyone over to disobedience so that he may have mercy upon them all. Romans 9:32

“Did God create hell?”

The question came at me right out of the blue, and it sounded a little aggressive, even angry.

I thought I could guess what lay behind it: “Surely, if your God is a God of mercy and compassion, there’s no way he would bring into existence such a terrible place? The very thought is impossible!” Whether we like it or not, very likely most of us have found ourselves thinking such thoughts at various times in our lives.

At one level the answer is obvious: Of course God created hell! Who else could have! The very first verses of the Bible tell us that “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth”, which we generally take, and surely rightly, to mean that God made everything that exists. So what’s the problem?

Well, that’s logical enough – and yet many of us find that there is a problem, a mental niggle that refuses to go away… There is, after all, not a word in that Genesis account, or indeed in the Bible as a whole, to tell us that God created this destiny called hell, and to suggest he did seems almost blasphemous.

It seems a trickier question than at first appears.

Something may depend on what we mean by “hell”. If we see it as a place of never-ending torment – a kind of cosmic torture-chamber – it’s certainly hard to envisage the God revealed to us in the Lord Jesus Christ as bringing such a place into being.

And even if we treat these pictures – “fire”, “outer darkness”, “weeping and gnashing of teeth” – as symbolic language for loss, destruction, exclusion, never-ending death (as surely we must) it’s still hard to grapple with.

We instinctively cry out, Why! If a person refuses to repent and be reconciled to God, wouldn’t total destruction, straight annihilation, be enough? What need is there for more? Yes, God is holy and perfect beyond our imagining – but what need does even such a perfect God have to inflict eternal punishment on even the worst of sinners? Why would he find it necessary to keep anyone in some kind of existence for no other reason (as it might seem to us) than to cause them pain?

Such thinking is very natural. But annihilation really is not an option, if we want to be true to the Bible. After all, some of the direst warnings about hell come directly from the lips of Jesus himself - for example, Mark 9:42-49 and Matthew 25:46, not to mention the sombre story of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16:19-31. The idea of hell is by no means confined to the vivid picture language of Revelation at the end of the Bible.

The Old Testament shows little interest in what we call “the afterlife” - the people of Israel focussed very much on practical life in the here and now. (Isaiah 26:19-21, with its  triumphant cry, stands out as very unusual.) “Sheol”, in particular, sometimes translated “hell” or just “the grave”, seems like a kind of grey spectral underworld where the dead are more like ghosts than people as we know them, and where there is (as far as I know – I am certainly no expert) no suggestion of pain or torment. 

But more relevant for us as Christians are the New Testament texts like the ones at the top of this blog. In Romans 9 Paul makes it clear that what God wants is to “have mercy upon all” people; in 1 Timothy 2 that he “wants all people to be saved”; and in 2 Peter 3, Peter explains God’s seeming slowness to act in judgment as a sign of his mercy and compassion, not indifference, that he doesn’t want anyone to “perish”.

These verses should be taken at full face value; true, they seem to suggest that the ultimate will of Almighty God will in fact be thwarted, and we instinctively respond “But that’s impossible!” But that is a conundrum we must learn to live with: God is not willing that anyone should perish – yet there are those who will perish.

It's as if, when God created the human race, he took a risk; he gave us the freedom to obey or disobey him. And the Adam and Eve story, with which the Bible begins, describes the decision we made – to disobey him. And the result? “The Lord God banished mankind from the Garden of Eden” (Genesis 3:23). And isn’t that “banishment” exactly what hell is? – a separation without end from God, the source of all life and joy. To be cast into hell is, in effect, to suffer the judgment of Eden, only writ large and final. But the key point is that it self-chosen: God, regretfully, gives us what we ourselves have desired.

What about the question I started with: did God create hell? Have I answered it? If what I have said is right the answer could be something like this: No, he didn’t; but what he did create was a race of people to whom he gave the freedom, by disobedience, to create their own hell. Which is exactly what happened. It is possible to be lost. Where exactly hell is located, and what exactly it consists of, perhaps we do well not to probe too deeply, but leave it to the perfect justice and perfect love of a perfectly holy God.

Father, I struggle with this idea of eternal lostness, and I thank you for these Bible verses which tell us that it is not something you desire. Help me to rest this great matter in your hands, trusting in your perfect love, holiness and justice, and to do all I can to let people know that because of Jesus and his cross it need not be. Amen.

True wisdom

1 Solomon son of David established himself firmly over his kingdom, for the Lord his God was with him and made him exceedingly great…

⁷ That night God appeared to Solomon and said to him, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”

⁸ Solomon answered God, “You have shown great kindness to David my father and have made me king in his place. ⁹ Now, Lord God, let your promise to my father David be confirmed, for you have made me king over a people who are as numerous as the dust of the earth. ¹⁰ Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours?”

¹¹ God said to Solomon, “Since this is your heart’s desire and you have not asked for wealth, possessions or honour, nor for the death of your enemies, and since you have not asked for a long life but for wisdom and knowledge to govern my people over whom I have made you king, ¹² therefore wisdom and knowledge will be given you. And I will also give you wealth, possessions and honour, such as no king who was before you ever had and none after you will have.” 2 Chronicles 1:1-12

God is a gracious and generous God to his faithful people… that is the essential message of this story of how Solomon, the new king of Israel, entered his reign as successor to great King David.

We read that God appeared to him at night – presumably therefore in a dream – and invited him to “ask for whatever you want me to give you”. If that’s not generous, I don’t know what is. Solomon famously asked for one basic thing: “wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people…” And God, true to his promise, fulfils his word.

But that’s not all: he then goes on to itemise some of the things Solomon didn’t ask for, and says, in effect, “you shall have them too”. And so he grants him the panoply of things that kings were normally expected to have: “wealth, possessions, honour (or reputation)”. No further mention here of long life or victory in battle, but such splendour and dignity as to make him virtually a wonder of the world, drawing visitors from far away to see his magnificence and to sample his fabled wisdom.

(The most famous of these visitors was the Queen of Sheba, 2 Chronicles 9 – though notice that there is no suggestion of a romance between the two of them: how history has loved to embellish the Bible!).

Well, I imagine that most of us live a long, long way from Solomon, in terms of geography and history, not to mention situation. Yet his experience paints for us a very clear picture of the kind of God God is.

Let’s take  a look…

1 He is all grace and generosity.

Like Solomon in his day we too are helplessly inadequate for the task and privilege of following Jesus; so, like him also, we depend totally on these divine qualities.

I knew someone once who held back from choosing to follow Jesus on the grounds (all credit to him for his honesty!) that “I knew I would be bound to fail”. At the time I was myself a very new Christian, and sadly I didn’t have the wisdom to tell him about God’s generous and never-ending love, and to advise him to trust to that as he embarked on the Christian life, and not to worry about his own shortcomings. I have sometimes wondered how things might have turned out differently if I had given him this reassurance.

2 He is a God who cares more about justice and truth than about the outward trappings of power.

This episode gives us a perfect illustration of these as God’s priorities, and so also of what kind of rulers he wants governing the nations.

Oh yes, the worldly trappings may have their place – a little pomp and ceremony may be appropriate - but they come well behind the “wisdom” and “knowledge” that Solomon, in his humility, put first.

Wisdom is a big theme in the Old Testament, associated especially with the books Ecclesiastes and Proverbs (great dipping in books, by the way). But it is not primarily an intellectual ability; it is more a matter of hands-on know-how, the ability to size up a situation or assess a problem and come up with practical solutions.

C S Lewis had an almost frightening intellectual power (as well as a wonderful imagination), but I can remember him declaring somewhere  that he “couldn’t succeed in managing so much as a hen-coop”. A perfect example of the difference between “wisdom” and “intellect”!

James 1:5 holds out an invitation to the humble Christian: “If anyone lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you” - not all at once, perhaps; but that promise stands firm, as King Solomon could have told us.

James 3:13-18 follows this up with a perfect little paragraph on the nature of wisdom: I encourage us to reflect on it for five minutes.

But there is something we must add…

3 Solomon lost his way.

One of the paradoxes of the Bible is the fact that Solomon – yes, humble, childlike Solomon – tragically went astray as he grew older in years and more magnificent in kingly power.

There’s no space to go into it here, but if you would like to follow it up, turn to 1 Kings 11. This long chapter begins with the ominous words “King Solomon, however…” (verse 1), and continues with “The Lord became angry with Solomon…” (verse 9) followed by the story of how “the Lord raised up against Solomon an adversary…” (verse 14). Everything falls apart, and Solomon leaves behind him the legacy of a bitterly divided kingdom. How are the mighty fallen! – and, still worse, how they drag everybody down with them.

This reminds us that we should never take anything for granted. We are called to have confidence in God, of course – but never to be complacent. Sadly, Christians can fall away – Christian, take that possibility seriously!

To finish, why not ponder for a few minutes: If God came to me and asked what I would like him to give me, what would my reply be? Honestly, now!

Father, as I seek to follow Jesus, please help me to keep my eyes fixed on him, and to keep focussed until that day when I see him face to face. Amen.

To be the best...

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:8

Jesus said, I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:20

It’s many years since I last had a bath. Showers are so easy and quick,  and also (I’m told) more hygienic, that they have become the norm for me as for many others. Which suits me fine.

But there is one thing about baths that leaves me with a feeling of nostalgia – that lovely sensation of sinking luxuriously into warm, comforting water, and just enjoying a delicious soak. Ah! – so relaxing, so calming!

There are other experiences which give us that sense of wholesomeness and well-being: just looking at a beautiful view, perhaps, or closing your eyes as you Iisten to some music that moves you, or walking by the sea. Such experiences have a real effect of recharging us.

Well, the verse I have chosen for today can have that effect – if, that is, we let it. It is basically a simple list of human qualities and characteristics, and I want to suggest that we allow ourselves the luxury of a thorough mental, spiritual soak in them. Take two minutes, please, to s l o w l y read.

Paul, an old man probably close to death, is getting to the end of this short, affectionate letter to his Christian friends in Philippi (for the background history, go to Acts 16, where it’s clear that his initial visit to this historic city was anything but easy). He wants to leave them with positive, encouraging thoughts, and this is what he comes up with. He tells them – and us - to “think about such things”, by which he means to not just read them through at a gallop, but allow our minds to dwell on them, for only so can our lives be changed. Are we up for that challenge?

It's striking that the list isn’t specifically “Christian” – many unbelievers would entirely agree with what Paul says at this point. So the implication is that, living as they do in a multi-religious but basically pagan setting, the Philippian Christians should stand out as especially worthy of respect, putting even the finest of their neighbours and fellow-citizens in the shade. They are to be “honourable”, “noble”, “admirable”, examples of “excellence” and “praiseworthiness” of character. Those words may strike us as pretty old-fashioned in today’s brash and gaudy world; but who cares (as long, of course, as we don’t come across as “holier than thou”)?

I wonder how the western world as many of us experience it today might rewrite that list? “Whatever is vulgar, whatever is coarse and tawdry, whatever is self-serving, whatever may even be dishonest and underhand, whatever is shallow and cheap, whatever gives me an advantage over others, especially those at the bottom of the pile… those are the things to focus on.” We would never, of course, say such a thing, but…

Perhaps I’m being unduly cynical. But it’s hard to avoid the feeling that many of us live in an essentially consumerist, materialist society, and one where the religion of “me-first” is worshipped by so many.

A classic film called Cat on a hot tin roof, from a play by the American playwright Tennessee Williams, features a central character called Big Daddy, the rich patriarch of his family. Big Daddy isn’t, if I remember rightly, a great model of virtue himself, but he has reached the point of being disgusted with other members of his family for their shallowness and dishonesty. Eventually he bursts out in anger, “This place just reeks of mendacity!”, whereupon one of his young female relatives protests “But Big Daddy, I don’t even know what mendacity is!” And you feel like replying “Too right you don’t, you’re so wrapped up in your false, petty little world! You never spoke a truer word!” (I assume anyone reading this blog will know what mendacity is…?)

The tragedy of our fallen, sinful world is that those ugly characteristics simply seep into our bones little by little and day by day. Putting it another way, it’s as if they are in the very air we breathe. Blatant lies are put on line constantly – and we immediately accept them as true because we’re too lazy to even think about checking them.

Jimmy Carter was a peanut farmer and, in the opinion of many, a failed president of the United States. A couple of weeks ago he reached his one hundredth birthday, and it was interesting to see the expressions of respect and admiration for him from political commentators of various colours. A failure as president? Perhaps so; let God be the judge. But a humanitarian, an anti-racist, by all accounts a humble and gracious man who seems to try genuinely to live out a simple Christian faith. Far from perfect, of course, as he is the first to confess – yet I must admit that I find myself thinking of him as I read Philippians 4:8.

Perhaps there is a single catch-all word which gathers up those various qualities mentioned by Paul: I’m thinking of integrity. My dictionary defines it as “the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles”. That doesn’t cover everything in Paul’s remark – but I suggest it’s not bad for a start.

Having soaked our minds in Paul’s list, let’s ask ourselves the question: Do I seek to be a person of determined, Christlike integrity?

Father in heaven, I don’t very much like the person I see when I look honestly within me – far from the best I could and should be, and far short even of many who don’t profess to follow Jesus. Please, by your Holy Spirit, put within me a holy ambition to bring you glory in all I do and say and think. Amen.

Bringing good out of bad

Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word... It was good for me to be afflicted, so that I might learn your decrees... I know, Lord, that your laws are righteous, and that in faithfulness you have afflicted me. Psalm 119:67, 71, 75

It’s a long psalm, 119. I remember, in my teen-age years, how a girl in our youth group volunteered to read the Bible passage in a service. The leader said it was Psalm 119, so off she went to read it through and get ready. Five minutes later she came back with a horrified look on her face: “It’s got 176 verses!” She was relieved to learn that it was the leader’s little joke (ha-very-ha)…

Yes, it’s a long psalm. Which means that, though it’s divided up into bite-size sections (each starting with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet), it’s not easy to get to know; putting it another way, though there are some very striking passages which deserve close attention, they can easily get lost in the sheer welter of verses.

One thing that has struck me over the years is the theme of “affliction”, and especially the way it pops up three times in the space of just a dozen verses or so (verses 65-75). It’s as if the psalmist can’t get it out of his head, for he keeps coming back to it from a slightly different angle.

Is it possible to trace a recurring thread? – to see his thoughts moving in stages? I think it is…

First, stage one… verse 67 looks back to what was a real turning point in his life: “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word”. He looks back (“Before…”) but then comes up to date (“but now…”).

He doesn’t tell us what his particular affliction was. As with us today, it can take many forms: sickness, sorrow, failure, humiliation, disappointment. Some Bible translations take it here to be “punishment”, in the sense of God’s discipline. Whatever, it has obviously been a painful and upsetting experience, and he associates it with a time when he “went astray”.

We shouldn’t automatically blame ourselves when something goes wrong in our lives: in the New Testament Jesus firmly rules that out - in relation to the man born blind (John 9:1-12), and to the hapless victims of Roman brutality, and the collapse of the tower in Siloam (Luke 13:1-5). But we shouldn’t totally rule out the possibility: we may have in fact brought it on our own heads. If we act foolishly and sinfully, well, there are likely to be repercussions, aren’t there?

However that may be in our circumstances, the psalmist in Psalm 119 sees a connection between his suffering and his errant behaviour. Could the same thing be true for us? The question, surely, is worth asking, for it is easy to become complacent and spiritually sluggish. A fresh start is never a bad idea if that is the case. Could it be time for you or me to pray very honestly, “Search me, O God, and know my heart…”?

Second, stage two… verse 71 is a clear advance on the observation of verse 67: “It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn your decrees”.

That word “good” is certainly striking. Perhaps he has experienced what is often known these days as a “lightbulb moment”: Hey, that dark and painful time is turning out for my good! I am seeing the pattern of my life with greater clarity. No, I didn’t enjoy my affliction while it lasted, but I believe it has refined and strengthened my weak faith. It has brought me back under the authority of God’s word (referred to here as his “decrees”). Isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing!

The psalmist, of course, didn’t know Paul’s letter to the Romans, but I am sure he would have fully endorsed the words of chapter 8 verse 28: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him…” That expression “all things” is important; Paul doesn’t mean just the rather inconvenient things, the nuisances of life, or even obviously “spiritual” things; no, by “all things” he means “all things”!

I recently read a Christian book by two Christian writers who have devoted years of study to what we often call “natural disasters” like earthquakes, famines and floods, the sort of things that very naturally cause us to cry out “Why, Lord...!” They have humbling stories to tell of deep faith, truly heroic service - and wonderfully unexpected outcomes.

This isn’t an easy truth to speak to people in the midst of affliction (as I write I’m thinking of the terrible catastrophe that recently struck the people of Valencia, Spain). No, there must be no shallow, glib comforts offered – remember Job’s comforters. But Romans 8:28 remains true nonetheless, and one day, by God’s grace, that will become apparent to us.

Third, stage three… verse 75 indicates that the psalmist’s affliction has taken him deeper in his understanding of the character of God: “...in faithfulness you have afflicted me”. God is a faithful God.

But how can affliction be a sign of God’s faithfulness? A fair question.  Perhaps the best commentary on this verse is found in the New Testament letter to the Hebrews, chapter 12 verses 7-12: “Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children…” It’s not that God hates you or even that he is angry with you (though perhaps very sad). No, his discipline is a sign of his fatherly love. If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t bother.

When Jesus told his followers to address God as “our Father in heaven” he meant it with compete seriousness.

Let’s sum up the psalmist’s train of thought…

He starts with a statement of fact: “Before I was afflicted I went astray… (verse 67). He progresses to a flash of new understanding: “It was good for me to be afflicted…!” (verse 71). He finishes with a fresh grasp of just who this holy God is: “in faithfulness you have afflicted me” (verse 75).

Do some of us need to let the psalmist’s journey of discovery reprogramme our minds too?

Father, I confess that I like my life to be comfortable and trouble-free. But I recognise that this earthly life just isn’t like that. Help me to confront it with faith in your good purposes, and so to draw good out of what seems bad. Amen.

God whispers in our pleasures but shouts in our pain. C S Lewis.