Pilate's wife

While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him”. Matthew 27:19

This verse is the only place in the Gospels where we read about Pontius Pilate’s wife. It represents her unique claim to fame.

As she witnesses her husband having to deal with the prisoner Jesus – “that innocent man”, as she calls him – she experiences a bad night. We can picture her startled out of sleep, frightened, in the middle of a dream. As she sits up and tries to get her thoughts in order two truths about Jesus take shape in her mind: first, he is “innocent” (the word could also be translated “just” or “righteous”); and second, her husband is being worked on by corrupt people to do harm.

She is alarmed enough to send him a message, even though he is “sitting on the judge’s seat”, carrying out his routine duties as the Roman governor of Judea. “Have nothing to do with him!” is her plea.

Do you ever have vivid dreams? The sleep experts tell us that most if not all of us do have dreams, though we may not remember them. But there’s no getting away from the fact that when we do they can affect us powerfully, and if they take the form of a nightmare they can seriously shake us; they can seem more real than, well, reality itself. I rarely dream – but my wife tells me of a night when I woke up shouting out with fear. (My dream, as I recalled it, was about a church member who I found particularly awkward; guess, please, if you like, what the significance of that was…)

A question arises: Should we attach any significance to dreams or other forms of unplanned mental activity? The Bible is full of it, of course: the books of Daniel and Revelation are pretty much sequences of dreams put down in writing. And we also read of such dramatic experiences as that of Jacob, God’s wayward servant, alone in the open country, dreaming of “a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God ascending and descending on it” (Genesis 28). In the New Testament we find Paul and his companions, unsure of God’s guidance on their missionary work, having “a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, ‘Come over to Macedonia and help us’” (Acts 16).

But that was then, and now is now, and we need to be careful.

Things have changed over the centuries, not least because we now have scripture in full to turn to; an undue credulity is to be avoided. But I like to think that the experience of Pilate’s wife – a dream speaking truth – was in fact a gift of God. Assuming that she knew nothing of God, how else might God communicate with her than by such means?

When we as Christians are unsure of God’s way ahead for us we will pray and read the Bible, of course (perhaps with fasting, let’s not forget that), but the answer to our prayers doesn’t itself come through direct scripture, more often through the inner working of the Holy Spirit in our minds: we experience a sense of peace, perhaps, or an unusually strong impression, or a striking coincidence. Why then not a dream or vision? Test it, of course: talk it over with a trusted friend; take time to let it sink in; soak it in prayer. But if we are serious about hearing God’s voice and receiving his guidance, why not be open to all possibilities?

God is a God who speaks, and the fact is that he has his ways of communicating with people who otherwise might not know anything of him.

About Pilate’s wife we know virtually nothing. I have assumed she knew nothing about Jesus. But who is to say? Her message to her husband suggests she had her finger on the pulse of life in Jerusalem; that she wasn’t a wife who held herself aloof from what was going on. We know from elsewhere in the Gospels that Jesus had many female followers. We know too that large crowds of people, both male and female, gathered to hear him speak and witness his miracles. Today, male politicians’ wives can barely move without cameras clicking and the curse of unwanted  publicity. But would anybody know if this particular woman chose to mingle with the crowds?

Legend has it that both Pilate and his wife became Christians; indeed, I read that to this day they are revered as saints by the Coptic (Egyptian) church. Probably untrue; but again, who knows? Was she, perhaps, a “secret disciple”? There must have been many such around in those dramatic, early days – uninstructed, yes, but people who had fallen under the spell of Jesus.

And, for all we know, there may be millions such in our world today: people who have only the vaguest idea of doctrine and church practices, but who have a simple love of Jesus. We may be in for a bit of a surprise when we reach our heavenly home. We may even look at somebody we thought we knew on earth and be tempted to say “What are you doing here?”. (And perhaps they will look at us and say back “And what are you doing here?”)

Enough! I’m letting my imagination run riot! But for a good reason, I hope… we simply cannot know what may be going on in someone else’s heart – so don’t make shallow assumptions!

A final question nags at me. People sometimes say, If only Pilate had taken his wife’s advice and “had nothing to do with” Jesus! But wait a minute… Isn’t that exactly what he did? Wasn’t the public washing of his hands exactly an attempt to distance himself from Jesus?

And the tragedy of Pilate, surely, is that it was a failed attempt? What Pilate should have done was to stand up against the mob, to look them right in the eye, to say in a loud firm voice, “This man Jesus is innocent so I set him free!” and take the consequences?

Yes, of course, of course. But who am I, weak and feeble, to say? (Or, if I may ask the question, who are you?)

Father, thank you for the enigmatic story of Pilate’s wife. Thank you for the multiple ways you have of speaking to people who have no Bible and never go to church. Please help me to tread that thin line between naïve credulity on the one hand and unjustified judgments on the other. Amen.

Moral coward or practical operator?

Now it was the governor’s custom at the festival to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. ¹⁶ At that time they had a well-known prisoner whose name was Jesus Barabbas. ¹⁷ So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, “Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” For he knew it was out of self-interest that they had handed Jesus over to him.

¹⁹ While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”

²⁰ But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed. ²¹ “Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor. “Barabbas,” they answered. ²² “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” ²³ “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”

²⁴ When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” ²⁵ All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!”

²⁶ Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

An interesting man, Pontius Pilate.

For many of us he probably falls not far short of Judas Iscariot in the scales of villainy, as he was the man who “had Jesus flogged” (why that particular gratuitous act of cruelty?) and “handed over to be crucified”.

We also get a nasty glimpse of the kind of ruler he was from Luke13:1-5: apparently some time earlier he had “mixed the blood of some Galilean worshippers with their sacrifices”, which, presumably, means that he had sent his soldiers in to hack down a group of innocent Jewish pilgrims in the city of Jerusalem. This kind of vicious brutality is borne out by other ancient writers outside the Bible.

Pilate was the Roman governor in Judea, and he had the admittedly tricky job of keeping a lid on a potentially explosive situation in the city. This was all the more so because it was the time of the Jewish Passover, when Jerusalem would be heaving with religious hot-heads and fanatics. It was more than his life was worth to let the lid blow off with riots and mayhem and so bring the authorities, his bosses, galloping down from Rome. He will have had sleepless nights as the Passover approached, not least because of this man everybody was talking about, Jesus of Nazareth.

If we read all four Gospel accounts it seems clear that Pilate’s desire to set Jesus free was genuine, though his personal motives are certainly open to question. Luke records an attempt on his part to offload Jesus onto the Jewish leader Herod Antipas in the hope that he would sort him out – only to have him sent right back: too hot to handle (Luke 23:1-17).

What can we, in our very different and very mundane lives, learn from Pontius Pilate?

First, knowing what’s right to do is no use if we don’t get on and do it.

That sounds obvious, but it is by no means always simple - especially when we are answerable to somebody in a superior position who can make life very unpleasant for us if we don’t do as we are told.

A political leader in Britain some years ago resigned from his position on the grounds that it was impossible to maintain his integrity and his Christian principles, because of what was expected of him, and the lies he felt he was obliged to tell. All credit to him, I thought – better that than to be a hypocrite. But also, how very sad that the state of our politics is such that he felt it to be necessary. Far be it from me to accuse such a person of moral cowardice, but it’s hard not to put oneself in his place and wonder about oneself.

No wonder the New Testament tells us to pray for those who govern us (1 Timothy 2:1-2 explicitly and Romans 13 by implication). Nothing is easier than to criticise politicians – it’s a lazy game we all love to play -but, according to the New Testament, prayer should come first. A word to all of us who lead groups or worship services? Do we regularly pray in the context of public worship for those who have the massively weighty responsibility of leading us?

I don’t mean to make excuses for either Pontius Pilate or for modern leaders, but… how we all need God’s help to save us from shallowness and to gift us with strong moral courage!

Second, even genuine attempts to do what’s right are no use if they’re not followed through.

Yes, Pilate genuinely tried to palm Jesus off onto Herod Antipas for him to deal with. Yes, he genuinely pleaded with the crowd to accept his bargain offer to put Barabbas to death in order to release Jesus. Yes, the whole mood of his behaviour suggests that he was genuinely convinced of Jesus’ innocence. But what was the good of that? – he still ended up putting an innocent man to death.

Is there some situation in your life or mine where we are “taking the line of least resistance”? – where we are we “keeping our heads down” when we should be “putting them above the parapet” at whatever the cost? (It’s interesting how this kind of situation throws up these metaphors! – all designed to make us feel a bit better about “bottling out”. Shame on us!)

Third, gestures count for nothing.

Pilate is famous for his gesture of taking water, washing his hands, and declaring “I am innocent of this man’s blood”. Very impressive! But it’s hard not to hear a voice from heaven saying “Oh no you’re not!” God alone knows the hearts of each one of us, and he alone will adjudicate guilt and innocence. We may seek to fob our responsibility off, to salve our troubled consciences. We may decide to do something which is more than a mere gesture – make a donation, perhaps, to a good cause.

But the failure remains, the injustice is done. Wonderfully, God may turn it to ultimate good (the supreme example of that, of course, is the cross itself); but it can never be undone. Wonderfully, he will forgive us if we are sincerely penitent; but the scar remains and the pain lingers.

Failing to do what is right… I’m not thinking here only of the gross failings of someone like Pontius Pilate. Not at all. But I have to confess that just putting these thoughts down has caused me great discomfort, to put it mildly.

Oh, the petty sins, the embarrassing compromises, the cheap, pathetic opting outs! Lord, have mercy on us all!

Lord, it’s easy for us to condemn corrupt people in positions of power, but we recognise too our own sinful weaknesses and compromises. Please give us a holy hatred for sin and a true hunger and thirst for righteousness, whatever the cost may be. Amen.

All Greek to you?

All scripture is inspired by God… 2 Timothy 3:16

Not long ago I was involved in a discussion about Bible translations.

When I was a teenage Christian over fifty years ago there was, to all intents and purposes, only one English Bible. It was called the Authorised Version (AV) or, more correctly, the King James Version. Certainly, other translations existed, but they were little known and not much used in services. The “AV” was the real Bible, and while you might consult one of the others occasionally, it held pride of place.

Then, in the later decades of the twentieth century there was an explosion of translations in up-to-date English; this shocked and worried some Christians, while others were happy to welcome it. Today, the AV is used, if at all, largely for ceremonial occasions, rarely for regular worship or Bible study (though I think in America there remain large numbers of die-hard AV loyalists). My guess would be that, especially  among evangelical Christians in Britain, the most popular version is the New International Version (NIV), first published in 1979 and updated periodically since.

No wonder worshippers get confused about this plethora of versions – there seems so much to try and understand and for most Christians it just isn’t part of their everyday lives; they have all sorts of other things to focus on, and can’t be expected to think too much about what is, after all, a pretty technical matter.

As our group talked it occurred to me that it might be useful to devote a blog to some of the questions and issues involved – so if such technical matters aren’t your thing by all means do click off right now and save yourself valuable time. As it’s rather different from the kind of thing I usually write, please bear with the technical parts, and also be prepared for something rather longer than usual, as I don’t want to come back for a second episode.

Let me focus briefly on just some of the key issues.

First, Bible translation is necessary.

Forgive me for stating the obvious. But as a start we need to recognise that the Bible is written in two of the languages of the ancient world, Hebrew (Old Testament) and Greek (New Testament), with a dash of Aramaic as well. This means that if we can’t read these languages we simply can’t read the Bible at all. Translations are a necessity, not a luxury.

Second, language, like anything else, dates with the passing of time, so periodic new translations and updatings are also not just helpful but essential. Both the Old and the New Testaments were written in language that ordinary people could understand, so this should be reflected in the versions we use.

Third, the science of translation, whether of secular languages or of the biblical ones, is immensely complex – which is why it throws up plenty of scope for disagreement.

Here’s a down-to-earth example. Suppose you are in a French restaurant and the waiter brings you your food. As he puts the plates on your table he smiles and says “Bon appetit, madame, monsieur”. Suppose you were asked to translate “bon appetit” into English. You may not know much French, but probably you would be able to work out, well, “bon” means “good” and “appetit” means “appetite”, so… no problem, the waiter is saying “Good appetite”. What could be simpler? Sorted.

But you would be wrong. “Good appetite” may be technically a correct translation of those two French words, but it just isn’t something we say in English, so to translate it in that way would be ridiculous.

Which raises the question: So what would constitute a good translation? It probably depends on the kind of eating-place you are in. If it’s fairly up-market, “Enjoy your meal” might be as good as you can get, though none of those three words figures in the French phrase. If you’re in your local greasy spoon caff, “Grub’s up” or “Get stuck in” would probably be better, if not quite as elegant.

I personally can’t really think of any alternatives. But the point is clear: the idea of finding a strict word-for-word equivalent is a lost cause; languages just don’t work like that, so some kind of alternative has to be found.

This can easily be illustrated from the Bible. I was reading recently in Romans 6, where Paul is pressing home the fact that we “are not under the law but under grace” since we have trusted in Jesus. But something worries him: people are suggesting that this means we are therefore at liberty to carry on sinning because it just brings forth more of God’s grace; it’s as if we’re doing him a favour by highlighting what a gracious God he is. Can this be right? he asks, and immediately stamps hard on such a notion: “By no means!” in verses 2 and 15.

But how accurate a translation is “By no means!” or, come to that, “Certainly not!” or “Never!” (Or even, perhaps, “You cannot be serious!”)

If we look at Paul’s Greek text we find that he used just two words: in English letters they consist of a strong negative, me – a “subjective negative particle”, my lexicon tells me (just in case you wanted to know), followed by a verb which has to do with being or becoming, genoito. But to translate “Not be!” or “Never happen!” would obviously be ridiculous. “By no means!” captures the meaning well enough, but it certainly isn’t a word-for-word translation. (You might be interested to know that the AV translators, way back in the 1600s, seem to have given up trying to find anything remotely literal and went for “God forbid!”, though Paul doesn’t bring God into it at all.) In fact, “May it not be so!” is as close to literal as you could get, but it’s pretty awkward and flat, which really doesn’t reflect Paul’s mood in this part of Romans. 

So… Let nobody imagine that Bible translation is a simple matter of taking a group of words, picking up a Greek lexicon and fishing out literal equivalents. Nothing could be further from the truth. (In fact, me genoito!)

Fourth, it’s impossible to completely disentangle translation and interpretation.

In other words, every time somebody attempts to translate a passage of scripture, they cannot help but put a particular slant on it. They may not intend to, but it’s bound to happen, and that’s where fellow-Christians can get critical and even judgmental, accusing them of foisting an inaccurate sense on the words.

A much debated example is the word hilasterion in Romans 3:25, translated in the AV as “propitiation”. Paul is talking about the idea of “atonement” – how the death of Jesus on the cross made God and mankind “at one”. This is something all Christians agree on, of course, but different shades of meaning are possible: was Jesus being punished by God? or did he somehow take the place of the “mercy seat” in the Old Testament temple? or is the cross to be understood in more general terms as “a sacrifice of atonement”?    

Just glancing at those possibilities gives an idea of the many bewildering nuances that attach to hilasterion! There’s a whole set of English words – propitiation, sacrifice, expiation, atonement – which many fluent English speakers struggle to understand, without having to wrestle with the Greek as well, thank you very much! The sadness is when Christians divide into opposing camps, virtually suggesting that you’re not a sound, biblical Christian if you don’t agree with their particular angle.

Enough! Many other issues arise, such as the question of inclusive language: should “man” always be translated “man”, even when it’s obvious that it means “humankind”, including women as well as men, not male as opposed to female? Or what help might you offer to the translators of John 1:29, where John the Baptist refers to Jesus as “the lamb of God”, given that the language they were translating into simply had no word for “lamb” and the people, living in arctic conditions, simply had no conception of what a lamb was? What were they to do! What would you suggest?

Just one final thought…. I wonder if anyone reading this blog might feel inclined to set themself the task of studying New Testament Greek? That may sound totally impossible; but why not, as a serious hobby?

The Greek of the New Testament is generally referred to as “late” or “Hellenistic” Greek, deriving as it does from the period when Greek had taken over from Latin in the Mediterranean world as the everyday language of ordinary people, far easier to pick up than the polished, classical Greek of the earlier poets, playwrights and philosophers. Especially if you have a bit of an aptitude for languages, you may be surprised how easy it is.

How you go about it – well, that’s not for me to say. You could just go solo by buying a basic grammar and working your way through it, or, better of course, you might know somebody, perhaps a local minister who is just longing to polish up their own knowledge by offering a bit of semi-professional guidance. You might even be able to enrol on some kind of official course.

All I will say is that such time and effort will not be wasted. Even a rudimentary knowledge of Greek will open your eyes in ways you would never have imagined, and you will never see the Bible in the same way again!  

Just suggesting…  

Lord God, thank you that in Jesus your Son you have sent us your living Word; thank you too that in scripture you have also given us your written Word. Please help me to love, obey and honour both. Amen.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

What kind of person?

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… And the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8-9

There is something about lists. They can have a poetic, even a hypnotic effect. When I was a child, seventy years ago, we were unusual in not having a television, so we used to listen a lot to the radio (or the “wireless” as it was then called). A little programme that came up regularly was called the “shipping forecast”, which gave a daily prediction of likely weather conditions in the various regions of the North Sea. These regions tended to have rather exotic names – Dogger, Utsira, Cromarty, German Bight, Faeroes – and they conjured up in my mind visions of valiant little fishing vessels tossing wildly up and down on deep grey seas under deep grey skies. Evocative, I think, is the word.

The Bible has plenty of lists, quite apart from the ten commandments or all those unpronounceable names in Chronicles or wherever. Another childhood memory… The head teacher at school used to read 1 Corinthians 13 in assemblies (“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast…”), telling us to insert our own names wherever we heard the word “love”. As you will gather, I’ve never forgotten that. Rather less poetic, but just as powerful, are Paul’s mirror-image lists of virtues and vices in Galatians 5:19-26. (Is it possible to read those lists at all seriously without resolving to become a better kind of person?)

For me, perhaps the most memorable list of all is the one at the top of this blog, where Paul begins to wrap up his letter to the church at Philippi (Philippians 4:8-9). There’s quite a parade of adjectives here: true… noble… right… pure… lovely… admirable… anything that is “excellent” or “praise-worthy”. And the impact of Paul’s words is strengthened by the repeated phrase “whatever is…” (If ever you are asked to read this passage in church, please make sure to do so really slowly, and scan the congregation with your eyes as you work your way through it.)

All those words could be translated in slightly different ways. But never mind: what matters is the overall impression. Taken together, they describe the kind of man or woman who instinctively commands respect, even admiration; the kind of person whose opinions you can’t help but take seriously. Further words that spring to mind for such a person are integrity, honesty, humility, good humour, kindness, sensitivity. (It’s hard to know where to stop!)

Four things are worth noticing about these terms.

First, they are a vital part of a Christian’s character, but developing them doesn’t make you a Christian. That’s an important distinction: parrots can learn to speak human languages, but that doesn’t make them human. Any man or woman with a little self-respect and a lot of self-discipline can work on developing good habits - and good for them! But being a Christian is all about something far, far more than that; it’s about entering a relationship with God through faith in Christ, and until that has happened there is no inner life.

In a word, we become “new creations”, not just smartened up versions of the old ones.

Second, these character traits take time to grow – and a lot of patient determination and hard work. Just occasionally a new convert to Christ seems to be transformed out of all recognition in a flash and everyone shakes their head in amazement. But this is the exception rather than the rule. Talk to any mature Christian and ask them about their inner weaknesses and personality flaws, and they are likely to ask “How long have you got!” In fact, the longer you walk with Christ the more aware you become of your continuing sins and weaknesses, and the expression “spiritual warfare” takes on real and painful meaning.

In a word, it’s wonderful to be a Christian; but let no-one say it’s easy.

Third, these terms are not what you might call “religious” terms, like “godly” or “holy” that I mentioned last time; they seem capable of far wider application than just that. This reminds us that God cares about the whole spectrum of human behaviour and attitudes, “secular” as well as “sacred”. They are all about cast-iron honesty and integrity.

I say this against the background of growing coarseness, vulgarity and even downright lies even in supposedly high circles in public life. We hear much about “fake news” (otherwise known as lies) though, thank God, there are influential people who hold out against such trends even though they profess no religious allegiance.

In a word, our “spiritual” lives are not fenced off in a little compartment of their own, separate from our “normal” lives.

That leads to the fourth point: this kind of Christlike character makes a person stand out. I started last time pondering the difficulty of making the gospel known without forcing it on people or putting their backs up. Well, here is a large part of the answer: there are few things people dislike more than having to listen to preaching when they don’t want it; but there are also few things they admire and respect more than meeting a man or woman in whom is seen the beauty of Jesus. And it’s your job and mine to become that kind of person.

Two further quotes to finish with. First, somebody called K Beckstrom: “Live so that the preacher can tell the truth at your funeral”. Ouch!

And second, of course, the words of Jesus that we often call the “beatitudes”, effectively a list in Matthew 5:3-12. At its heart in verse 8 lies the wonderful saying: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God”. May God help us as we strive to obey that!

Father, thank you for the word of Jesus, Be holy, as your Father in heaven is holy. Please help me to take it with deep seriousness. Amen.

Bringers of light

Many are asking, “Who can show us anything good?” Let the light of your face shine on us, Lord. Psalm 4:6

There are times when a single, simple Bible verse seems to connect with particular relevance with one’s own situation. That happened to me the other day as I was reading Psalm 4. The psalmist echoes the mood he senses around him, a mood of puzzlement, even of hopelessness or despair: “Many are asking, ‘Who can show us anything good?’”

Who indeed? The implied answer is “no-one”.

Our news seems to get more troubling every day, with historians and politicians seriously wondering if we could be heading for another world war. The world-wide economy has been thrown into chaos by America’s tariffs policy, and seriously right-wing, anti-democratic forces that worship such idols as money, power or sex seem to be coming to the fore and claiming authority.

You chat with neighbours and friends, and after (of course!) a brief cheery discussion of the recent sunny weather, it’s difficult not to slip into “What’s the world coming to?” misery-mode.

Our world is very different from the one the psalmist lived in, but the mood is similar: putting it simply, there’s a lot of gloom about. For the palmist, traditionally identified as King David, the crisis has a very personal feel, but in many other parts of the Bible it is more national and even international: the prophet Isaiah, for example, speaks dramatically of a trembling of the earth’s very foundations (Isaiah 24:17-23). What is the world coming to?

As Christians, of course, we have a solid hope. Jesus is crucified and risen, and assures us of a perfect future beyond death (John 14:1-4). During his earthly life he warned that there would be “wars and rumours of wars”, not to mention “famines and earthquakes” (Matthew 24:1-8) and many other kinds of evil.

But most people, sadly, don’t share this hope, either because we Christians have never told them or because they have heard but failed to respond. If we chat with a troubled friend or neighbour we may feel it appropriate to refer to our personal faith and the difference it makes, but we (rightly, I think) hesitate to risk causing them embarrassment, possibly putting them off altogether, by putting them on the spot. (The apostle Peter advises his readers to respect unbelievers by waiting for them to make the first move (1 Peter 3:15).)

So what are we to do? How can we ensure that our unbelieving contacts “see some good” in the midst of the gloom?

The best answer, short of a clear and straightforward presentation of the gospel, is simple but also very challenging: by being a certain kind of person. If we go on to ask, “All right, but what kind of person?” there are various time-honoured words that spring to mind: “holy”, “godly”, “Spirit-filled” will do for starters. True, they have a slightly old-fashioned feel to them, but most non-Christians will have a sense of their very positive meaning, even if a bit of “unpacking” may be needed. (Some people might also suggest “religious” or “righteous”, but I imagine that most Christians prefer to avoid such labels because they have so many negative connotations, suggesting self-righteousness or sanctimony.)

At the end of the day I’m not sure one could do better than “Christlike”, for, after all, what is Christian living about if not, in essence, just becoming more and more like Jesus? And though not many people seem to have an active faith in him, I suspect that he is still viewed with respect, if nor more, by many non-believers.

This is where the second line of Psalm 4:6 helps: the psalmist prays, “Let the light of your face shine upon us, O Lord!”

That might seem a rather selfish prayer – God’s people praying for themselves. But it doesn’t have to be taken that way, for just as the moon has no light of its own, but only what it reflects from the sun, so we who seek to follow Jesus, though we have no light of our own, have the privilege of reflecting him who is the light of the world. Isn’t this why he both claimed to be, himself, the light of the world (John 8:12), and also described his disciples in exactly the same way (Matthew 5:14)?

One of the things this means is that, though we may find it hard to believe, people will see something of the light of Jesus in us even though it may not be appropriate to speak of him by name. How many people have been converted, in essence, by getting to know somebody in their workplace who made a deep impression on them? “They never spoke about their faith,” they say, “but… well, there was just something about the way they were that struck me…”. How many times have words like that been spoken as they tell their story?

Let’s pause to digest what this great truth means: As I go about my daily business - in my workplace, or doing the shopping, or looking after the children, or cutting the grass, or just moving around the neighbourhood -  people may see Jesus in me. Yes, really! People look at you, and see Jesus, though they may not realise it. Christian, while you shake your head in disbelief, let this truth encourage you!

I picked out a few words earlier that sum up the Christian’s character as it is being recreated by the Holy Spirit. Then I happened to find myself reading the final section of Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi, where Paul winds up his letter with another list of words to both challenge and inspire us; but I’ve run out of space, so I’ll come back to it next time…

Let’s finish today where I started, in Psalm 4… Yes, in our day as well as in the psalmist’s, there are many who despairingly say ‘O that we might see some good!’ Let’s grasp the fact that if indeed they are to see some good it’s likely to be in you and me. What a privilege!

Lord, I have no natural light of my own, but by your grace and by the work of the Holy Spirit, even I can be a bringer of light to pierce the gloom which seems to be all around in our troubled world. Thank you, Father! Amen.

"Two are better than one"

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labour: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

“It is not good for the man to be alone”.

So spoke God in Genesis 2:18. Up to that point everything God had done he declared to be “good” or “very good”. But suddenly now something is said to be “not good” - that Adam, in the garden, was alone among the animals; that he needed a “helper” or “companion”. And so Eve is brought into being.

A literal story? Or a beautiful legend? It doesn’t matter, only that it conveys a fundamental truth about what it means to be a man or a woman: the story of “humankind” gets under way, for both good and ill.

In Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 the Teacher is only referring very indirectly (or very likely not at all) to man and woman in marriage (not, of course, that that final sentence can’t be applied to marriage). His theme is the far wider one of companionship in general: human beings are designed by God to share one another’s company in a wide variety of ways. Indeed, they are designed to need one another’s company, and they are foolish if they neglect this aspect of what it means to be human.

The Teacher takes a number of possible examples.

First, two people sharing work “have a good return for their labour”, which, as long as they remain in harmony (sadly, not something to be taken for granted), can obviously only be good.

Second, “if either of them falls down, one can help the other up”. I can’t help smiling as I read this. One day last summer I set to work to paint the garden shed. The best way to finish off the last part near the ground was to sit comfortably on the grass and splosh away. It worked very well – until, having finished, I encountered a problem: I couldn’t get up, as there was nothing fixed and solid to hold on to. I ended up doing a rather undignified bum-shuffle to the kitchen door, hoping that none of the neighbours happened to be looking out of their upstairs windows, and was then able to grab hold of the handle and heft myself to my feet. (Oh, the joys of growing old!)

Of course, helping others up may not be a physical thing at all; it may also be what is sometimes known as “giving someone a leg up” emotionally or psychologically or financially or even, and not least, spiritually.

Third, two people can act as mutual body-warmers: “if two lie down together, they will keep warm…”. This isn’t as comical as it might sound, in days long before central heating or electric blankets or even the humble hot-water bottle, especially if you were travelling at night, when it could be bitterly cold. This application has, of course, nothing to do with sex, and I am sure we can all think of many ways in which we can warm the heart of another person: a simple smile of greeting might be enough to do it.

Fourth, two people can offer one another mutual protection: “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves”. In ancient Israel the roads could be very dangerous, with brigands lurking behind every corner; and in such a situation “two is definitely better than one”.

However we may extend the applications of this little passage – and one could easily carry on indefinitely – the basic meaning is clear: we need other people, and they need us: I need you, and you (believe it or not) need me. You may be, like me, “a bit of a loner”, but it is utter folly for any of us to think that we can “go it alone”.

Some people are fairly content with their own company. That’s fair enough, and we should respect them. But let them not blind themselves to the realities, sometimes harsh, of this earthly life. Others virtually crave human contact and may even need to take themselves in hand and develop a little personal independence.

The balance between the two needs is nicely caught by Paul in Galatians 6. On the one hand, we are to “carry each other’s burdens” (verse 2), on the other hand to “carry our own load” (verse 5). Is Paul contradicting himself? No, just looking at the reality of human life, including Christian life.

I can only finish by encouraging us all to examine our own personalities and natures to see where we may be lacking; and to ask ourselves, in all seriousness, “What am I doing about it?” Is it time for a change in priorities?

And another question: Do I have an eye for the lonely people? The newcomer down the road? The widowed person? The sick or elderly person who has been a church member for decades but is now unable to get to church, and for whom no one seems to be responsible? There is nothing wrong, nothing inferior, with the single life, but what about the person who sorely misses the companionship of a husband or wife?

Our ultimate companion, of course, is Jesus himself. We can take comfort from his wonderful words, “surely I am with you always”. But until that day comes when we see him face to face, and every tear is wiped from our eyes, let’s not overlook the words of the wise Teacher in Ecclesiastes 4. As human beings, we need one another. As brothers and sisters in Christ, I need you and you need me! May God himself help us to get a firm hold of that truth!

Father, thank you that through Jesus you have brought me into a whole family of brothers and sisters. Please help me not to neglect them, either for how I can help them, or for how I need them. And, in this sad and troubled world, help me not to limit my  love and care only to those who are followers of Jesus. Amen.