"I want to know Christ"

Whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ… I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord… I want to know Christ… Philippians 3:8, 10

Pointing to his disciples, Jesus said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother”. Matthew 12:49-50

I enjoy reading biographies - people’s life stories.

At the moment I’m getting to know Eric Liddell, the “Flying Scotsman”, athlete and missionary, famed for refusing to run in the Olympics because his race was rescheduled for a Sunday, which he didn’t feel able to do. (At the last moment he was entered for an alternative race on a different day – and won it by a mile.) A wonderful man, and a great challenge and stimulus to my sluggish faith.

Then, a few weeks ago, it was Joseph Stalin. A bit different, that: he was pretty much a killing-machine, generally regarded as one of the most evil people who ever existed, right up there (or should I say right down there?) with Hitler and Mao Tse Tung. Grim reading; but a sombre reminder of what human nature, including mine, is capable of.

And then Paul Robeson. The son of a slave in America, he was a professional sportsman, a star actor and a political activist, but known above all for his glorious singing voice (“Ol’ man river” and many others). So much to admire in his integrity and humility! But so much too to feel sad about as his life rather fell apart towards the end.

A good biography gives you a flavour of a person’s life – but only a flavour. I said I was “getting to know” Eric Liddell. But of course that isn’t really true. Both he and the others I have mentioned are now long dead, so of course I can never actually know them.

And there is a massive difference between knowing about someone or something, and actually knowing them.

Why am I saying this? Because Easter is almost with us, the time of year when Christians celebrate the death and rising again of Jesus. The glory of Christianity is that we not only know about him, but we do in fact know him, because while he truly died he also was truly raised to life; and is still alive today. The four Gospels of the New Testament were written not merely as biographies, though they serve as that, but as invitations to their readers to come and know this man.

So I am writing this blog to encourage you to do just that, if in fact you have never done so before.

The apostle Paul wrote a beautiful little letter to the Christians in the Roman garrison town of Philippi. It’s a letter that oozes affection and gratitude, for they have not only responded to the message he preached to them, but have also given him practical support

Though short, Philippians contains quite a lot of detail about Paul’s personal life and experiences, and chapter 3 verses 7-14 are a good example.

There was a time, he tells us, when he knew quite a lot about Christ – enough, at any rate, to see him as a threat to all that he held most dear as a devout Jew. He came to see Jesus, in fact, as such a threat that he decided that he and his influence needed to be stamped out. When Stephen, the first person to die for being a follower of Jesus, was stoned to death, Saul (as Paul was then known) was right there, not himself throwing stones, but looking after the coats of those who were (Acts 7:54-8:1).

But it wasn’t long before the stone-throwing – and worse - started again, and Paul was right at the heart of it (Acts 8:1-3)…

But something truly dramatic happened – Luke describes it for us in Acts 9. And one way to put it is that he came to know Jesus. In Philippians 3: 8 he talks about “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord”. No longer just knowing about him! But actually knowing him. And let’s not miss that little detail “my Lord”, not only “the Lord”, which indicates the intimacy of a personal relationship.

As Christians today we can’t of course “know” Jesus in the same way as those first believers did, especially those who met him risen from the dead on Easter day. We can’t see him with our earthly eyes or hear him with our earthly ears. We can’t reach out our hands and physically touch him, as Mary Magdalene did.

But we can, and do, know him! By reaching out to him in faith we become part of him, as he becomes part of us through the work of the Holy Spirit. And that is when our lives change out of all recognition; not perhaps as suddenly and dramatically as did that of Saul of Tarsus, but, long-term, with equally life-transforming effects.

Another week, and the dramatic events of Jesus dying and rising again will be in our minds. So never could a question be more timely: This Jesus, you know about him, of course. But can you say you truly know him? Can you, with Paul, call him “my Lord”?

Please hear this… he is alive, and waiting for you!

Lord Jesus, thank you that you rose from the dead and are alive for evermore. Please help me today to take that step of faith, so that I can come to know you personally and begin my adventure of discovering more about you, until that day when I see you face to face. Amen.

The glory of the blind eye

A person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offence. Proverbs 19:11

Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Take care of my sheep”. John 21:16

Last time I wrote about what I called “the sin of the blind eye”, based on Proverbs 24:11-12. This is the danger that we look away – hypocritically pretending “But we knew nothing about this” - rather than honestly face up to a need that presents itself to us; perhaps we are cowardly or lazy or just plain uncaring.

But today we need to put a completely different angle on this, and point out that there are also times when turning a blind eye is no sin at all but in fact the best thing we can do; for Proverbs also tells us that “it is to one’s glory to overlook an offence” (19:11).

“Glory”!… That’s a big Bible word, often used to describe the power and majesty of God himself, so it struck me as interesting that it should occur here. It seems that to “overlook an offence” (which is pretty much the same thing as turning a blind eye), can be not just a kind or generous thing to do, but a glorious thing, even a God-like thing.

Which raises the challenging question: How good am I at it?

I look back over my life and can only be thankful for those lovely people who could very justifiably have taken offence at something I had said or done, but… simply chose not to. In a very tiny way, had they not chosen to act like God himself?

Where this verse really hits home is if we turn it round: if it’s a glorious thing to overlook an offence, by the same token it’s a shameful thing to do the opposite, to “harbour a grudge”, as we sometimes put it.

I think of a friend who felt, perhaps with some justification, that he had been badly let down by someone. The issue wasn’t just a trivial thing, but something that had significantly affected his whole life. How understandable if he were to harbour a grudge!

But how destructive too. For to harbour a grudge is to brew an inner poison, to allow your whole personality to be twisted and eaten up by bitterness.

I knew a woman too who used to talk quite matter-of-factly about how she “hated her ex”. Judging by the things she used to say about him, you felt you couldn’t really blame her; but years of carrying this grudge had taken a very heavy toll on her.

Then one day she came to a decision… she decided to let it go. The decision wasn’t particularly emotional; it was simply an act of will, quite clinical in a way. She decided she would no longer allow this weight to crush her. And what a beautiful change it brought about in her!

I have to be careful telling stories like those, for personally I have never found myself in those kinds of situation. I have been extremely fortunate - or perhaps I should say blessed. So I’m in danger of making it all sound rather easy, which I’m sure it isn’t.

But there’s no getting away from it: our God is a God of mercy, kindness, grace and forgiveness - glorious qualities which are expressed above all in the sacrifice and death of Jesus. And we are called to be like him: nothing more, nothing less.

A concrete example of “overlooking an offence” comes to mind: what a hard time the risen Jesus could have given to Simon Peter after his denial (Mark 14:66-71)!...

“Sorry, Peter, but you’ve let me down badly! You swore that you would rather die with me than deny me – and then you caved in at the challenge of that servant-girl. And you did it three times! How can I ever be sure again that I can trust you…?”

But we know what in fact Jesus did (John 21:15-23). Back there in Galilee, after a memorable breakfast by the lake of freshly caught fish, he drew Peter aside from the other disciples. Not to give him a ticking off or to make him feel bad, but to match his three denials with three invitations to “take care of my sheep” or to “feed my sheep”. To give him a vital job. To show him he loved him and was prepared to trust him.

That’s a big, big example. But ordinary, everyday life throws up all sorts of lesser examples, and they pose the same challenge as Proverbs 19:11: Will I be petty or magnanimous? Will I be mean-minded or generous-spirited? Will I turn a blind eye to an offence? Or will I fix my eye on it and let it distort my whole vision?

The choice is mine; and yours.

Loving Father, thank you that in Jesus you have chosen to overlook my many offences. Help me to respond with patience, understanding, love and prayer when other people offend against me. Amen.

The sin of the blind eye

Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering towards slaughter. If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay everyone according to what they have done? Proverbs 24:11-12

How do you react to coincidences? Do you try to attach deep significance to them, or do you just notice them, shrug your shoulders, and carry on?

Personally, I belong in the second category. I’m certainly open to the possibility that a coincidence might contain some kind of message for me, but – well - it’s never happened yet, so I don’t get too excited.

But a coincidence that came my way just this morning was, let’s say, very striking if nothing else.

My regular Bible reading included the verses at the top, where the writer tells his readers, in effect, not to turn a blind eye to wickedness. Don’t say “But we knew nothing about this” – this massacre of innocent people. God knows your heart.

That struck me very forcibly, and I knew straight away that I wanted to write a post about it.

And then, as if by way of confirmation, about an hour later I was reading the morning paper and I came across this quote: “What hurts the victim most is not the cruelty of the oppressor but the silence of the bystander”.

Those powerful words were written by Elie Wiesel, a survivor of the Nazi Holocaust who devoted the bulk of his life (he died in 2016, aged 87) to fighting for the human rights of not only his fellow-Jews but all sorts of other victims.

The two quotes are an almost perfect match for one another – too coincidental to be accidental?

The coincidence didn’t end there. I immediately thought how a few weeks ago my wife and I had watched a television box-set called Band of Brothers. It’s about a platoon of American soldiers fighting in Europe in the Second World War. By the sixth or seventh episode I was beginning to find it a little same-ish, and happy to think we were getting towards the end.

But then came the part when the soldiers stumbled across a concentration camp – and I can only say that the horrors of the next few minutes made the whole series worthwhile. My wife and I have been to Auschwitz, and of course we have seen those grainy black and white photos. But the way that film portrayed the unspeakable vileness of what went on in places like that was simply overpowering. You could only shake your head in disbelief.

But there was still something else, and this was the clincher. The concentration camp was very close to a village – a village of solid, ordinary citizens going about their everyday business. But the claim of these people was exactly what Proverbs 24:12 says: “But we knew nothing about this”. What, not even from the stench of disease and death blowing in with every breeze?

How easy it is to condemn those people! They are caught up in a war, and it’s a war they are losing. They are in a situation which is beyond anything they could ever imagine. Their lives are in peril. Life is a waking nightmare.

And how can any of us avoid the question: What would I have done? Kept my head down and just hoped for it all to end? Convinced myself that, well, there’s really nothing I could do anyway?

Both the Book of Proverbs and Elie Wiesel were writing about extreme situations. But of course the “turn-a-blind-eye” reflex can kick in in what seem the most humdrum of circumstances – somebody being bullied at work, perhaps, or a child showing signs of neglect, or an injustice that seems to escape the system and which nobody seems to care about, or a charity doing good work but struggling to survive financially.

All of us will one day stand before God in judgment, including those of us whose sins have been dealt with by the cross of Jesus. Shouldn’t that thought alone be enough to make us look fairly and squarely in the face the responsibility which God lays upon us?

True, we mustn’t develop a guilt complex over this. There are so many good things being left undone and injustices being left unchallenged, and there’s a limit to what we can do. But the rock solid rule must surely be: If I can, then I must. Whatever the cost. Whatever the sacrifice.

Cain tried to wriggle out of responsibility for Abel’s death. “Leave me alone,” he says to God. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9). God gives no direct answer to that question. But we know what the answer is, don’t we? Yes, deep down we know: a thousand times, Yes.

Lord God, give me the eyes to see and the love of Jesus to respond to evil wherever it rears its head. Amen.

Time to keep your mouth shut?

Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips. Psalm 141:3

“Speaking without thinking is like shooting without aiming”. Nicely put, that, don’t you think?

I think the psalmist in Psalm 141 would agree. True, at the start of his psalm he is thinking especially of the use of the tongue in prayer and worship. And he then goes on to reflect on how words can be used for serious evil, for “wicked deeds” (verse 4).

But I’m sure he would agree that the need to have “a guard over our mouths” applies in all sorts of routine, everyday situations. I read an article once where some university professor had calculated how many words, on average, each of us might utter every day. I can’t remember now what the figure was – but it was pretty alarming.

James the brother of Jesus has a whole range of comparisons for the tongue (James 3:1-12). It’s like the tiny spark that sets off a forest fire; it’s like poison coursing through the body – that’s just two of them. (On the plus side Proverbs 15:3 tells us rather beautifully that “a gentle answer turns away wrath”. How we need that reminder these days when so many of us are on a hair-trigger, just waiting for an excuse to get angry or offended.)

All of which makes it plain that there is never a bad day to take to heart afresh the words of Psalm 141:3. Like today.

The sheer power of words is illustrated by an experience of my own. I still remember a teacher in my primary school days telling us: “Before you say anything, ask yourself three questions: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?” That was said by that woman when I was quite a small boy; but those words remain alive in my mind to this day. I think they sum up this whole topic pretty well…

Is it true?

Yes, that must come first, of course. If we as Christians are anything, we are people of the truth, for do we not follow the one who said “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6)?

Sometimes it seems that lies are simply everywhere. In surveys people are quite happy to admit that they routinely lie if it suits their interests. Yet they also say they have little respect for politicians precisely because they don’t think politicians are honest. We instinctively doubt much of what we read in the papers; and as for what gets put on social media, well, no wonder we develop a thick coating of cynicism.

Christians or not, we are easily sucked into this mentality. “Bare-faced” lying? - perhaps not. But dishonesty can take many forms, and it’s possible to lie without even realising we’re doing it.

Is it kind?

Words, even true words, can be deeply wounding. Just as I have never forgotten the wise words spoken by that teacher, so I’m sure all of us can think of times we have been cut to the quick by someone’s hurtful remark: a criticism or putdown or jokey comment. Especially if the person on the receiving end is lacking in confidence and self-esteem, it’s no exaggeration to say that an unkind remark can scar them for life.

Can any of us plead not guilty to this?

Is it necessary?

I can think of many occasions in my life when somebody could very well have dredged up an incident that would have caused me embarrassment – but kindly chose not to do so. How grateful I have been!

And what about saying things about somebody in their absence – in a word, gossip? How necessary is that?

Gossip very often fails all three of my teacher’s tests: truth, kindness and necessity. It’s an easy resort for the trouble-maker, bringing a nasty pleasure to both the speaker and the listener: “The words of a gossip are like choice morsels, they go down to the inmost parts” (Proverbs 18:8).

It’s even possible to  gossip under the guise of prayer, pretending sanctimoniously to feel loving concern – “Lord, please help Jack at this very difficult time in his life” – so that everybody in the group is immediately thinking “Hmm, I wonder what Jack’s problem is?”

Any of us reading this who have a weakness with gossip would do well to remember the wise saying: “Never forget – the person who gossips to you today will very likely be gossiping about you tomorrow”.

I could multiply examples of bad uses of the tongue – but it’s up to each of us to think about the areas where we fall short. But to finish with a prayer I suggest a fresh translation of Psalm 141:3…

Loving Father, please help me to know when to keep my big mouth shut. Amen.

Why "Proverbs"?

The eyes of the Lord are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good. Proverbs 15:3

My Bible-reading routine is taking me at the moment through Proverbs. I always enjoy this, because while Proverbs is full of good things, the demands it makes on our understanding aren’t all that great: no heavy doctrine, no unpronounceable names, no references that defy comprehension (well, not many, anyway).

No, you can just read your way through, nodding sagely at the many flashes of wisdom (3:5-6, for example, or 15:1,17:14 or 18:8), or furrowing your brow at things that don’t seem very connected with most people’s lives (14:35), or shrugging your shoulders at what seems like a statement of the obvious (13:8), even wondering if perhaps something really needs to be challenged (17:12 – call me old-fashioned but, personally, I’m not too keen on the idea of running into an angry she-bear one day outside the Co-op).

And as for 16:31, well, it’s one of my favourite Bible verses (if you know me you’ll understand why), but I must confess I have serious doubts as to how true it is literally…

Very often we need to take a Proverbs saying simply as a springboard for further reflection. We could use 14:35, for example, to trigger a prayer for wise counsellors in high places (how we need them!), or 13:8 either (a) to prompt compassion for the poor or (b) to reflect that perhaps not being rich has its compensations after all.

Whatever.

The other day I found myself reflecting on 15:3: “The eyes of the Lord are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good”. (The Message puts it, “God doesn’t miss a thing – he’s alert to good and evil alike”.) And I found myself wondering “Now, is this good news or bad?”

Is it a warning, like those plaques people used to have on their wall: “Christ is the Lord of this home: the unseen guest at every meal, the silent listener to every conversation” (Big Brother is watching over you, so you’d better look out!). Or is it an encouragement: “Of course, you can’t see God; but never doubt that he is caring for you with deep, fatherly love”.

The answer, surely, is “Both”, depending whether we fall into the category of “the wicked” or “the good”.

I can almost hear a chorus of protest from those readers who are well taught in the Bible: “But none of us are good! We are all sinners in the sight of God!” And of course I fully agree.

But we know what the writer means. He is, broad-brush style, dividing the human race into two categories: those who seek to order their ways in step with God, and those who don’t. For category one, these words are an encouragement; for category two, a warning.

But of course human beings don’t all slot neatly into compartments. Nobody believes more strongly than me that “by grace I have been saved, through faith” (Ephesians 2:8). But does that mean that I never need to take Proverbs15:3 as a warning? You must be joking!

No, even the finest, most Christ-centred, Spirit-filled Christian is far from perfect. Even as you read these words, is there, in some dark and ugly corner of your soul, a secret stirring that is known only to you? Is Proverbs 15:3 exactly what you need as a warning, even though your salvation is sure? -  “My dear child, you have lapsed into sin, and you need to put it right…” For, of course, that dark secret “known only to you” is, in fact, known also to God.

Just asking.

A footnote…

Another advantage of reading Proverbs is that it reminds us what a wonderfully varied book the Bible is. I say “a book” because the Bible is ultimately a single book. But of course, as I’m sure we all know, it’s made up of a whole collection of books, dating from many hundreds of years.

And books – any books - need to be read and understood according to their types. A car maintenance manual and a spy thriller are both “books”; but you’d need to be pretty daft to read them in the same way, wouldn’t you? And the same is true of, say, Leviticus and Luke, or Isaiah and 2 Peter. Try and construct New Testament doctrine out of the Old Testament Song of Songs and you’ll soon be in a hopeless muddle.

Of course we can, and should, draw connections between the various parts of the Bible, for ultimately the Bible points to one great over-arching Truth: Christ crucified and risen from the dead. But the key to understanding Bible truth is to let each part speak in its own voice, not to impose on it a meaning it doesn’t contain.

So… just in case you don’t know it very well, welcome to the Book of Proverbs! If we read it rightly it will instruct us, inspire us, puzzle us, perhaps even annoy us.

But with the help of the Holy Spirit it will add another building-block to the ever-growing structure of our faith.

Father, thank you for the light you shine for us in the Book of Proverbs. When it instructs me, help me to learn. When it challenges me, help me to obey. When it puzzles me, help me to be patient. When it comforts me, help me to be thankful. Amen.

Jesus and the snake

Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:14-16

Is there any verse in the Bible better known than John 3:16? - “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”.

Probably not.

But are there any verses in the Bible less well known than John 3:14-15? – that strange little passage about Moses “lifting up the snake in the wilderness”.

Not many!

Yet here these two passages are, right next to one another on the lips of Jesus – in fact, not two passages at all, but all part of the same passage. How strange that Jesus should choose to illustrate the meaning of his life and death by referring back to this (to us) obscure Old Testament story about… a snake! It’s worthwhile to refresh our minds by looking at the relevant passage, Numbers 21:4-9…

They travelled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!”

Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.” So Moses prayed for the people.

The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.

What on earth does John 3:16 have to do with that story? Answer: A lot!

First, both stories are about judgement and death.

In Numbers 21 the people of Israel are wandering in the desert after escaping from Egypt. And they are not happy. They grumble against Moses – and against God. So God decides to teach them a lesson by allowing a plague of venomous snakes to attack them. Many of them die.

In John 3 Jesus is teaching about a far more serious plague attacking the whole human race: the plague which the Bible calls “sin”, or human rebellion against God. It’s a plague that leads in the end not just to a painful physical death, but to eternal, spiritual death.

Second, both stories are about God’s provision of a remedy.

In Numbers 21 the people realise how wrong and stupid they have been and plead with Moses to pray for them. Which he does. And God’s answer is to tell him to make this bronze snake and hoist it up on a pole. Just looking up at the snake will bring about the healing of the sufferer. Such is the love and mercy of God!

In John 3 Jesus compares himself to the snake (how extraordinary is that!): in the same way “the Son of Man must be lifted up” (verse 14), which is obviously a reference to his coming crucifixion. Such, again, is the love and mercy of God.

Third, both stories are about faith.

In Numbers 21 the person suffering the snake-bite is not told to do anything in particular to help him or herself, but simply to look at the snake. The word “faith” isn’t mentioned; but obviously faith was needed to be willing to do that.

In John 3 Jesus says that anyone who simply looks to him in faith – “who “believes in me” - not attempting to do anything, “will not perish but have eternal life” (verse 16).

We might be tempted to ask, But how did these remedies “work”? Why would putting a bronze snake on a pole be any use? And why would Jesus being lifted up on a cross achieve anything?

No explanation is given in either passage (though elsewhere in the New Testament we find quite detailed explanations). All that matters is: Accept what you are told and take advantage of it! God knows what he is doing. Just believe!

Of course, no one is under an obligation to receive the remedy. Picture a man lying in his tent groaning with the pain of a snake bite. His neighbour comes running: “Great news! Moses has had this bronze snake made, and all you have to do is look at it and you will be healed!” And what does the man do? He turns up his nose: “Nonsense! How could that possibly work! My snake-bite will heal up in a day or two”. But how wrong can you be…

And likewise with Jesus. No-one has to accept his death on the cross as the remedy for their sin. But… “whoever does not believe stands condemned… because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son” (verse 18).

To refuse to believe in the God-given remedy for sin is, says Jesus, to “love darkness instead of light” (verse 19). We have that privilege if we so choose. But it makes no more sense than choosing to let a deadly snake-bite do its worst.

We each need to ask where we stand in this. Do we simply accept God’s provided remedy, or refuse it? Do we come out of the darkness and into the light, or choose to stay in the darkness?

Which is it to be?

Lord God, thank you that you have taught us that humble, simple faith in Jesus and his cross is all that is needed to receive forgiveness and eternal life. Please help me to cherish this good news – and to pass it on to others. Amen.

Back from the dead!

Anyone with such a defiling disease must wear torn clothes, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their face and cry out, “Unclean! Unclean!” As long as they have the disease they remain unclean. They must live alone; they must live outside the camp. Leviticus 13:45-46

A man with leprosy came and knelt before Jesus and said, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” immediately he was cleansed of his leprosy. Matthew 8:2-3

I’ve no idea how many times, over the years, I have read Leviticus 13-14. Not as many as various other parts of the Bible, it’s true, but a lot, nonetheless. And it’s always been, if I am to be honest, a bit of a plod: the description of what has been traditionally called “leprosy” takes up almost fifty verses of chapter 13, and I’ve found myself wondering, “Lord, why did you choose to give us all this detail!”

But the other day was different. Suddenly it seemed almost like a word for our times, as we struggle to bring the coronavirus under control.

Just look at Leviticus 13:45-46, the climax of the passage: all right, we aren’t required to “wear torn clothes”, but as for the rest… unkempt hair, yes; facial covering, yes; social distancing, yes, even if the cry “Unclean! Unclean!” isn’t required; and quarantine, yes, even if not the need to “live alone… outside the camp”.

If nothing else, passages like this remind us (as if we needed it!) that the human race is engaged in a constant battle against disease, and always has been. We have already been told by the experts that it’s very unlikely that the coronavirus will ever be totally eliminated; so while we are glad to see rates of infection and death dropping, the best we can hope for is that it will be brought under manageable control, like flu or pneumonia.

Thank God for the scientists, the doctors, and all who work in health care! And may God help us all to behave responsibly and maturely!

In the world of the Bible “leprosy” – a word that covered a whole range of skin diseases, not just what is properly known nowadays as “Hansen’s disease” - was a virtual death sentence; a living death, if you like. It was incurable, and led to a slow, gradual deterioration and a very unpleasant end. This was why it necessitated becoming an outcast from society as a whole. (A commentary I read told me that in the middle ages in Europe a person with leprosy would be brought to church and have the burial service read over them.)

In short, leprosy was horrible beyond words, and was feared even more than we fear the coronavirus.

But then came Jesus…

In Matthew 8:1-4 he is surrounded by crowds of people They are excited, clamouring to hear his teaching, when the unthinkable happens: a man with … what’s this? ... torn clothes, unkempt hair, a facial covering, and possibly shouting “Unclean! Unclean!” appears and starts to make his way through the crowd. Can you imagine the silence that descends? the way the crowd divides to stay as clear of him as possible? This is shocking! – and seriously frightening.

He kneels before Jesus: “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean”. Can you see him? What faith! What humility! What boldness!

And what did Jesus do? He “reached out his hand and touched the man”.

I love that part of the story: Matthew doesn’t just say “he touched the man” but he adds the completely unnecessary detail that he “reached out his hand” (after all, how could he touch the man without first reaching out his hand!) – thus adding a little note of tenderness and solidarity. (I wonder how long it had been since somebody last touched him?)

“Immediately he was cleansed”, says Matthew. Whereupon Jesus sends him on his way, first telling him to observe the proper procedures (back to the routine; back to Leviticus 14).

What a story!

Why did Jesus cleanse the man with leprosy?

A daft question! Because he is the very embodiment of the love of God, that’s why: “Jesus, thou art all compassion,/ Pure, unbounded love thou art”, as Charles Wesley put it. Why else?

But there is something else. Jesus was making a statement by this act: Not only “I love all people, including the most wretched in society” or “I am able to do supernatural miracles”, but “In God’s coming kingdom there is no such thing as an outcast or an outsider”.

It’s no accident that in the very next story Jesus heals the servant of a Roman soldier, a Gentile, the people the Jews were told to keep well away from. And he followed that miracle with a wonderful statement: “I say to you that many will come from the east and the west and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8:11).

In short, in Jesus the barriers come tumbling down. The man cast out because of leprosy can mix once more in the temple with his people. And anybody – just anybody – who puts their trust in Jesus is admitted into God’s eternal kingdom with rejoicing and the blowing of trumpets.

Is that your hope and expectation? It can be! Don’t turn down that wonderful invitation!

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for your promise that you will wipe every tear from our eyes, that there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain any more, because the old order of things has passed away. May I find great hope and deep peace in that promise. Amen.

Let God do the judging!

So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But whoever has doubts is condemned if they eat, because their eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin. Romans 14:22-23

When I was a young Christian over fifty years ago I was taught that it was wrong to go into a shop on Sunday because it was “the Lord’s Day”. It was wrong to drink alcohol. It was wrong to gamble. Some Christians I knew thought it was wrong to go to the cinema not just on a Sunday but any day at all. Such things were “sinful”.

I accepted this pretty much unthinkingly. But in time the question became more pressing: What really constitutes “sin”?

Some things are clear-cut, of course: we only have to skim through the Ten Commandments to know that stealing, murder, adultery, lying are wrong. Christians just don’t do them, full stop – or they shouldn’t, anyway.

But other things are not so clear. Certainly it’s wrong to get drunk – but nowhere does the Bible state that drinking alcohol is necessarily wrong as such (and didn’t Jesus turn water into wine?).

And what about various forms of entertainment? Is it wrong to go to a football match, for example, where you’re surrounded by people cursing and swearing? Or to watch a film or play which, while it’s good in many ways, includes language or humour which is crude or blasphemous or scenes which are sexually explicit? Is that to be guilty by association?

The fact is that there are many things where different Christians will take different views – what is OK by one person will not be OK by someone else. We sometimes call them “grey areas”.

And the Christian principle is this: we are to prayerfully make up our own minds, and not to judge those who see things differently from us.

This is what Paul is talking about in Romans 14 – what he means by “these things” in verse 22. The main issue at stake is vegetarianism – some Christians obviously felt it was wrong to eat meet, others were happy to do so. So… who was in the right?

Says Paul, “Neither of you! Stop getting uptight about this – just be true to what your conscience tells you”.

And that’s what leads to a rather startling statement, in verse 23: “everything that does not come from faith is sin”.

Pardon, Paul. Did I hear you right? Are you really serious? I mean, when I tie my shoelaces, or take a stroll in the park, or read a magazine, I’m not sure I can really say I’m acting “from faith”!

No, that would be absurd. Paul is talking about faith in the sense of “conviction”. He is saying that if we do something our consciences aren’t easy about – if we “have doubts” about them (verse 23) - that is sin. For example, if your conscience really is troubled about drinking alcohol, then to drink alcohol is sin: it’s better to abstain than to bruise your conscience.

There’s a great story about CH Spurgeon, the nineteenth century preacher. He got on a bus in London one day and found a group of young men from his church happily smoking their pipes (this was at a time, I should point out, when the connexion between tobacco and disease was not known). Spurgeon fixed them with a stern eye and said, “Young men, aren’t you ashamed to be sitting here smoking?” Shame-faced, they all put out their pipes and tucked them guiltily in their pockets. (I imagine that a rather awkward silence descended.) But then Spurgeon took his pipe from his pocket and calmly lit up. “I am not ashamed,” he said.

We get the point (as I trust those young men also did).

I’ve talked about the traditional “worldly” things Christians have disagreed over. But there are many others that the modern world has thrown up. Try these for size…

Is it sinful not to recycle your papers and cans and plastic? To drink coffee that isn’t free trade? To eat meat or eggs that aren’t free range? To foul the atmosphere by flying unnecessarily? To go out for an expensive meal when millions of people are starving? To buy clothes that are produced by children in horrible far-away sweat shops?

Right or wrong, can we regard ourselves as responsible Christians if we haven’t at least given thought to such questions?

What matters is to have a conscience which is fed by prayer and the Bible (even our consciences are tainted and can mislead us, remember), and then to obey it. Don’t compromise. Don’t just go with the flow. If you honestly feel that you can look God fairly and squarely in the face over a particular thing, well, that’s what matters. But you’d better be sure first! If not… it is sin.

And, of course, don’t look down on a fellow Christian who sees things differently. That too is sin.

Lord, help me never to hurt another Christian by using my freedom of conscience in such a way as to trip them up. Help me never to violate my own conscience, but always to live and make decisions in order to please you. Help me never to pass judgment on others, but to remember that one day I must stand before your judgment throne. Amen.