Wrestling with anxiety?

Jesus said to his disciples, Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes… Who of you by worrying can add a simple hour to your life. Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? Luke 12:22-26

Are you prone to anxiety? I knew somebody once of whom it was said that if she didn’t have something to worry about she would worry about not having anything to worry about.

Ha-very-ha. But of course it isn’t really funny. Anxiety can be a truly crushing weight, dominating a person’s life. And, as we look on, we might be tempted to say, given that person’s circumstances, “and I don’t blame them!” The assurance “Don’t be anxious” or simply “Oh don’t worry!” can come across  terribly glib, and we can all think of people both in our own personal circle and in the wider world to whom it would seem shallow and even cruel, however well-meaning. It’s like cheerfully saying to someone “Be well!” or “Be happy!” when well-being or personal happiness are completely beyond their control.

Yet doesn’t Jesus do exactly that? To his disciples he says “do not worry about your life…”. Given that we know he is anything but shallow or cruel, we can only deduce that he wanted them to reflect upon the reality of anxiety and learn to bring it under some kind of control when it rears its ugly head. Anxiety is a beast; but the question is, Can we, with the help of the Holy Spirit, render it a tame beast?

I hesitate to offer my thoughts, because I tend to err on the happy-go-lucky side myself, like a man I once knew who simply refused to worry about anything, blithely assuming that because God loved him everything would be fine. Well, that was all very well; but you only had to look at his wife’s face to see who did the worrying in that family…

In other words, some degree of “anxiety” is inevitable – the opposite is not necessarily faith or trust but, frankly, irresponsibility. (If you are technically minded you might be interested to know that the word used in Luke12:22 for “worry” (frowny face) is the same as that used by Paul in 2 Corinthians 11:28 for “concern”(smiley face). In a nutshell, there is a right and proper kind of anxiety.)

Having said that, can we say anything else that might be helpful when it comes to wrestling with anxiety? I suggest three things…

First, remember that the only true foundation for freedom from anxiety is childlike trust in the fatherhood of God.

Jesus teaches us to address God as “Our Father in heaven”, and given that his fatherhood is perfect why should we doubt it? Our problem is that that trust often blows hot and cold.

I suggest that every so often we may need to give ourselves a serious talking to, to “take ourselves in hand”. This talking to might run along the lines: “Do I believe that God is my loving heavenly Father?”... “Of course I do!”… “Yes, but do I really believe that God is my loving heavenly Father?”… “Well, yes, certainly…” “Good… but do I really, really believe that God is my loving heavenly Father?”… “Er, yes, I think so…” “Well, start acting like it then!”

Is it about time you took yourself seriously in hand?

Second, remember that God’s time-scale is very different from ours.

Of course, we want freedom from anxiety - and we want it now. That’s natural enough. But it isn’t the way God works: he has many other plates to spin of which we know nothing. So a worry may have to be wrestled with for a lengthy period – even (and how hard is this?) a whole lifetime. It may take that long to learn the art of trust.

If that sounds rather grim, we need to remind ourselves that our Father is in the business of changing us, of re-making us, of making us more like his Son; he’s not, if I can put it so, just messing around. In the context of everyday life this process may seem unbearably long, but in the light of eternity it is next to nothing. In 2 Corinthians 4:16-17 Paul –  a man who knew what he was talking about! – spells it out: “Therefore we do not lose heart… For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal weight of glory that far outweighs them all…”. Oh, our troubles may not seem “light and momentary” now, but when we look back from our heavenly home how different it will seem!

Are we learning to be patient with God?

Third, remember that God works with the grain of different personalities.

Putting that another way, some people are naturally less anxious than others. Their temperaments are placid, and it takes a lot to trouble and unsettle them. This may have nothing to do with their spiritual strength – quite possibly they simply had a settled and secure childhood, or have enjoyed good physical health throughout their lives; they may be blessed with a particularly happy marriage, or a particularly satisfying job. Others have had to battle severe storms and have known great sorrows, which has left them ragged and insecure. Men and women are made of very differing raw materials: look at those great friends Barnabas and Paul; look at Simon Peter and his temperamental ups and downs. We shouldn’t make excuses for ourselves; but at the same time let’s not be too quick to “beat ourselves up”!

If these thoughts are correct, what they amount to is this: Jesus gives us the responsibility, by his grace, not to cave in to anxiety; but he is infinitely patient with us if and when we do. Our God is a God of new beginnings. Are you due for a new start?

Father, please teach me by your Spirit to keep a clear distinction between a healthy seriousness about life, a proper concern, and a destructive and debilitating giving in to worry. And so may the peace of God that passes all understanding keep my heart and mind day by day. Amen.

Assisted dying?

 

To me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1:21

Jesus said, Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me… I will come back and take you to be with me so that you also may be where I am. John 14:1-3

My little world has been rather full of death recently, or the close threat of it: friends and loved ones dying or very ill; well-known figures suddenly taken; even watching the latest episodes of the Thomas Cromwell series; and then, just as if to rub it in, along comes the parliamentary debate on “assisted dying”.

So what’s new there, then? Of course, not much at all; we live in close company with death every minute of every day. But somehow, as we say, “it really comes home to you”, doesn’t it? Suddenly, as you look at yourself, you realise that death is no longer something that only happens to other people…

Whatever our view might be on assisted dying, we who call ourselves Christians need to take positive steps to ensure that we don’t let ourselves get sucked into the gloominess that characterises many of those who, as Paul puts it, “have no hope” (1Thessalonians 4:13).

Reflecting on Paul’s great declaration in Philippians 1:21 is as good a  safeguard against this danger as we are likely to find: “to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” - a mere nine words in his original Greek, while the English NIV translation takes it up to eleven. But what luminous, glowing  words!

Why don’t we know Philippians 1:21 better? Why don’t we put it on a par with John 3:16 or 1 Corinthians 13 as one of the best-known passages in the Bible? If what Paul says is true for himself, why shouldn’t it be true also for us whose hope is in Christ? And if it is indeed true for us, isn’t it something worth celebrating rather than just tucking away at the back of our minds as a distant, even rather theoretical, hope? It chimes in perfectly with the promise Jesus gave to his nervous, “troubled”, disciples in John 14:3.

Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to make light of death - far from it. Death may be defeated in Christ, but according to 1 Corinthians 15:26, it is still an “enemy” (though, let’s note, “the last enemy”). But I am very grateful that Luke, writing Acts, chose to describe honestly the funeral of Stephen in chapter 8 verses 1-3 - those “godly men” who buried him were not ashamed or embarrassed to “mourn deeply for him”. No shallow, false bravado there!

I think of a fine Christian man I once knew who was diagnosed with terminal illness in, I think, his middle twenties. He seemed to be determined to, as it were, not let the side down, so that, even though he had a wife and small children and much else to live for, he seemed to put on a permanent display of unremitting cheerfulness. It came across as  unnatural, and must have been an unhealthy strain on him. One longed to give him permission to relax and be his true self!

Going back to 1 Thessalonians 4:13… the point Paul is making is clear: the fact that we don’t grieve “as those who have no hope” doesn’t mean that we don’t grieve full stop. Of course we do. Grief is the price you pay for love; or, putting it another way, if you don’t love you don’t grieve. Which would we prefer?

So, what should we think about assisted dying?

I imagine that most Christians would accept it only with great hesitation – surely it is for God alone to give and take life, and all sorts of safeguards are needed? That is certainly my instinctive reaction. But as the present debates are demonstrating, perhaps it isn’t totally clear-cut. However strongly we may feel, it is our duty to listen respectfully to those who see things differently, especially if we are reasonably content with our earthly lot; after all, it’s easy enough for us to hold that black-and-white line, isn’t it?

One factor that influences me is very simple – in general, we are living far longer than we used to a hundred or even just fifty years ago, thanks to the wonderful advances in medical science. But sometimes the question arises, May not death be preferable? What’s the point of staying alive if one’s “quality of life” has drained away? The Victorian poet A H Clough wrote, "Thou shalt not kill; but needst not strive officiously to keep alive”, and I suspect that many if not the majority of people probably agree with that.

Another poet, John Keats (who died aged 25), wrote of being “half in love with easeful Death”, adding these very powerful words: “Now more than ever seems it rich to die,/ To cease upon the midnight with no pain…”. By this he presumably meant “to die quietly in my sleep” – and, yes, what many of us fear most is the possible suffering we may have to go through, and, of course, the pain and trouble our loved ones also have to go through.

Assisted dying is a serious and delicate topic for debate. But if we belong to the risen Christ we have a wonderful lesson to teach our loved ones and neighbours – better still, in fact, a wonderful example to set, focussing on the resurrection story of Jesus and the promise he gave his disciples.

Christian, learn to echo the apostle Paul: “… to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain”.

Father in heaven, just as I attempt to live as a witness for you, please help me too to preach the good news of Jesus by the manner of my dying when that time comes. Amen.

God's messy church

²⁴ Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. ²⁵ But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. ²⁶ When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.

²⁷ “The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’²⁸  “‘An enemy did this,’ he replied. “The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’²⁹  “‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. ³⁰ Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn’”…

⁴⁷ “Once again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish. ⁴⁸ When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore. Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away. ⁴⁹ This is how it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous ⁵⁰ and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Matthew 13:24-30, 47-48

These two little parables of Jesus carry pretty much the same message: when he returns in glory there will be a great and final “sorting out” between “the wicked” and “the righteous”, a division that is not clear at the moment. “The Final Judgment”, it’s often called. The weeds sown among the wheat are likely to be harmful, and so have to be painstakingly separated out; likewise the bad fish among the good.

Jesus’ own explanation is given in verses 36-43. His reply rests upon the idea that the whole human race, and not only the church, has an enemy. The good seed stands for “the people of the kingdom” - all men and women who seek to love and honour God - while the weeds stand for “the people of the evil one”, the devil.

Two practical applications spring immediately to mind…

First: Christian, beware of arrogance!

Some strong Christians aim to build pretty much a perfect church here on earth – thoroughly sound doctrine, the highest standards of behaviour, and deeply committed service in terms of worship, prayer and evangelism. Well, nobody could argue with that kind of idealism. But these parables suggest that it needs to be blended with down-to-earth realism: some of the seed will turn out to be poisonous, some of the catch of fish will likewise turn out bad; it is God’s will that “both should grow together until harvest” (verse 30).

I’m sure such Christians don’t intend it, but they can give the impression that “we’re the only ones who’ve really got it right” – of being arrogant, to put it bluntly. Especially in terms of doctrine they sometimes seem to look down their noses at other Christians who, for example, interpret even minor passages of scripture differently.

I have a friend who, along with his wife, was asked by his church’s leaders to leave. Why? Because he had been guilty of some sort of improper behaviour? No. Because he didn’t pull his weight in the life of the church? Again, no. Apparently it was felt that he “didn’t share the vision of the church”, and would therefore be better off elsewhere. All right, I only have his side of the story, but I had known him for two or three years and knew him to be as fine a Christian – humble and teachable - as you could hope to meet. That’s an extreme example of what comes across as arrogance.

The fact is that over two thousand years there has never been anything like a flawless church or a perfect account of Christian teaching – just read Acts and the New Testament letters to see that! Never, literally never. And there never will be until Jesus returns. So let’s always be determined to be humble, reminding ourselves, “it’s me who could be in the wrong”.

To put it slightly differently: Christian, don’t pass judgment on others.

Those who aspire to build a perfect church may be seen sometimes sadly shaking their heads at the errors of others, in practice virtually writing them off. Certainly, any church should insist on certain basic New Testament truths, focussed of course on Jesus, born to the Virgin Mary, living a perfect human life, crucified for our salvation, but raised to life, and one day returning in glory.

But beyond that – denominational differences, musical preferences, doctrines to do with baptism or the working of the Holy Spirit or the timing of Jesus’ return, issues like alcohol and many others – we can, and should, be a little relaxed with those who may see it differently from us, taking care to treat them as brothers and sisters in Christ. Even perhaps the most acute topic of our time, same-sex relations, calls for at least respectful listening and sensitive understanding.

Second, more positively, Christian, never give anybody up!

We human beings are weak and fickle creatures, and while we may be sad to see a fellow-Christian drifting off or even rebelling against the gospel, we can never be sure how their story may end. Remember the prodigal son; remember Saul of Tarsus; remember John Mark.

It seems to suit my temperament to use lists to prompt my daily prayers, and some non-believers or lapsed believers have been on my list for literally years, and I have seen not so much as a hint of an answer. So what am I to do? Shrug my shoulders and give them up? Well, a day may come when I feel it right indeed to take them off my list; but I sense that until I am absolutely sure of that, perseverance is a far better option, even when my heart seems cold. Who knows what God might do, and when?

I visited a church once and was surprised to see someone there I had known many years earlier. We looked at one another in surprise, and then said almost simultaneously, “What are you doing here!” It was quite comical. I like to think that we might have meetings like that in heaven. Why not? Christian, have faith! God has some surprises in store.

That final day of separation will come. Until it does, let’s be patient and persevering. The words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 4:5 are wise and applicable in all sorts of situations: “Judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes”.

We’ve got used to the label “messy church” in recent years – a description of what seems a fine Christian initiative. When I first heard it I must admit that I was a little taken aback. “Oh, not another gimmick”, I thought. But I soon learned differently.

Well, Jesus’ parables seem to suggest that there is a sense in which the church should be “messy”. Christian, live with it! Christian, keep praying and hoping!

Father in heaven, please help me to blend together a proper balance of strong, unwavering conviction and deep, teachable humility – and so, on that day when I see Jesus face to face, may I learn with wonder that my prayers were not in vain. Amen.

Religion that is not a waste of time

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.  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

Over the centuries Christians have sometimes had problems with the Letter of James. Chapter 2 verses 14-26, at face value, seem to contradict Paul’s great emphasis on “justification by faith” (“faith without deeds is dead”! declares James), which makes them uncomfortable, so even such a theological giant as Martin Luther considered this letter “a right strawy epistle” and would have liked it to be removed altogether from the Bible.

If ever we are tempted to think like this, not just about James but about any part of scripture, a good question to put to ourselves is: “Suppose this book really were to disappear from the Bible, would we in fact miss it?” In this case, the answer can only be an emphatic Yes! James is nothing if not practical, and has no patience for any kind of “religion” which is not soundly earthed in everyday life. So we would certainly miss his bracing, no-nonsense approach.

Last time, I wrote about that word religion, and shared my hearty dislike for it – especially when people apply it to me. I mentioned that, perhaps surprisingly, it’s quite rare in the Bible, even in the old King James Version, and it generally has a negative flavour about it. So who better to return to than no-nonsense James in these few verses at the end of chapter 1? It is of course by no means a full-scale account of everything that could be said about religion, but I think it gets to the essence of it. It’s worth picking apart…

“Those who consider themselves religious…”

That doesn’t exactly come across as approving, does it! In my mind’s eye I see James perhaps literally looking down his nose at such people (they “consider themselves religious” invites the follow-on, “Yes, and that is why everyone else dislikes them”). Ouch.

How quick the non-Christian world is to condemn (even if unfairly) anything that smacks of hypocrisy, sanctimony or display! Not that we should go to the opposite extreme and adopt a veneer of over-heartiness and extreme informality, a kind of wilful sloppiness, but… well, we get the point.

“…and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves…”

It’s clear that James has a real thing about the way we talk. In chapter 3 verses 1-12 he launches a full-scale attack on the “deadly poison” of wrong use of the tongue. I take this to cover anything from false teaching to lying, to offensive or unclean language, to gossip, to bursts of anger.

It’s hard not to see a very direct relevance of this in western society to what used to be called “public discourse”, whether through radio and television or social media or whatever. If a lie gets you where you want to be, well, go for it! If it makes you feel better to shout or trample on someone’s face or feelings, well, so be it. If a bit of dirt-dishing is to your advantage, well, why not? (and that applies by the way, even if there’s truth in it).

Are our tongues under firm, Spirit-led control?

“… their religion is worthless…”

The dictionary tells me that the word used here refers to “religion in its external aspect”, implying display and ostentation, and that “worthless” could be translated “a waste of time”. Here, again, there is of course a tightrope to be walked. Jesus tells us, after all, to “let our light shine before others”. So let’s work out for ourselves what that might and might not mean. But let’s not miss the warning: your religion and mine could quite possibly be “worthless” in the eyes of God as well as contemptible in the eyes of others.

Lord, give us grace to avoid any hint of inappropriate display of religiousness, but simply to make Jesus known in all our daily living!

But now we come to the positive, refreshing aspect of all this…

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this…”

Ah, so the word religion need not be a total no-word! People who aim to live humbly, kindly, generously, unostentatiously, bring pleasure to God himself and also, we may hope, the respect of their family, friends neighbours and workmates (though they don’t set out consciously to do this).

“… to look after orphans and widows in their distress…”

In the Old Testament “orphans and widows” symbolise those who, so to speak, are at the bottom of the pile, the epitome of poverty and dependence on the kindness of others. For us, of course, not all such people are literally orphans and widows; they may be the sick and the lonely; or migrants; or prisoners; or the frail and elderly; or the homeless… I think Matthew 25:31-46 gives us the idea!

And, by the way, the “orphans and widows” we come across may not be fellow-Christians. Let’s remember – before he fed the crowds with the loaves and fishes, Jesus didn’t get the disciples to do a head-count to ensure that everyone on the receiving end was a card-carrying fellow-Jew.

Lord, help me to remember that every person I ever meet is a potential neighbour, whoever and whatever they are!

“…and to keep oneself unspotted from the world…”

I’ve run out of space, so I must leave each of us to work out for ourselves out what this might mean in our particular circumstances. But Paul’s great lists in Galatians 5:16-26 and Ephesians 5:1-20 can, I suggest, point us in the right direction…

Having said all this, it occurs to me that there are those who might criticise James for his disapproving tone and even accuse him of “worthless religion”! I’m sure, of course, that would be wrong. But it reminds us that every which way we go there are mine-fields to negotiate. Whatever, I’m sure James, for all his severity, offers us valuable pointers towards “religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless”. May it be so!

Father, we live in a sadly tainted, polluted world which loves to rub its uncleanness off onto us. Please help me to hunger and thirst after righteousness only, and to do so in humble and unostentatious ways. Amen.