A psalm for our times

  God is our refuge and strength,

    an ever-present help in trouble.
² Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
³ though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.^]

⁴ There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy place where the Most High dwells.
⁵ God is within her, she will not fall;
    God will help her at break of day.
⁶ Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
    he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

⁷ The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

⁸ Come and see what the Lord has done,
    the desolations he has brought on the earth.
⁹ He makes wars cease
    to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields with fire.
¹⁰ He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.”

¹¹ The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress. Psalm 46

If ever there was a psalm that could be called “a psalm for our times”, this surely is it. The title (which I have left out) links it to no particular moment in history, so, while it is set in the context of ancient Israel, it has a universal, timeless quality: it could be any time and any place.

It could be today.

If we think we are going through troubling and disturbing times – the pandemic, political instability around the world, Afghanistan, floods, heat waves, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions – how much more the psalmist? “Nations are in uproar”, he says, “kingdoms fall” (verse 6). He speaks of  “desolations” on the earth (verse 8), of the earth “giving way”, of mountains “falling into the heart of the sea” and “quaking”, of waters “roaring and foaming” (verses 2-3).

Highly poetic language, of course – but all the more frightening for that. The psalmist is obviously a seriously shaken man. So what better psalm could we ask for if that is also the way we feel as we look out on our world in 2021?

What matters most about Psalm 46 is that, in spite of this unflinching realism, it is a song of faith. Yes, really! And not some soggy, insipid faith – “Well, let’s just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best” – but a solid, rock-like faith. The psalm is punctuated with triumphant declarations of this faith.

It’s there right at the start, in verse 1: “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble”. Then again in verse 7: “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress”. And the same words repeated to round off the psalm in verse 11.

The difference, of course, is that the writer’s faith is rooted fairly and squarely in the almighty, eternal, all-powerful and all-knowing God, the one true God, the God known to us as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. And that changes everything.

What truths about God does the psalmist rejoice in, truths that can still be our comfort and hope in 2021?

First, he is “an ever-present help in trouble”; he is “our refuge and strength” (verse1).

People advertising their wares sometimes claim to be “available 24-7”. Well, perhaps. But no-one could be more 24-7 than God! He “neither slumbers nor sleeps” (Psalm 121:4). He is always on the end of the believer’s cry for help.

We have to be very honest here and recognise that it doesn’t always seem that way. I have a friend who, at the moment, is crying out to God in desperate need, and who seems to get nothing back but stony silence. It would be dishonest (not to mention impossible anyway) to “put on a happy face” and pretend that everything is fine. But Psalm 46:1 remains true, and time will prove it true, even when “faith” has been a matter of clinging on by one’s fingernails.

(The Bible itself recognises this reality. I must admit that I can’t resist a smile when I read Psalm 44, just two ahead of this one. Was it, I wonder, the same “son of Korah” who wrote it? - and who pleaded with God: “Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep?”, verse 23.)

Second, God lives among his people: there is a “holy place where the Most High dwells” (verse 4).

This is not a reference to heaven, but to the temple in Jerusalem, a place of prayer, worship and sacrifice. It has, of course, been replaced now by Jesus himself, and by his body, the church. And that body is permanently refreshed by “a river whose streams make glad the city of God”, known to us as the Holy Spirit.

From the days when Moses and the people of Israel erected their portable shrine, the “tabernacle”, God has always had a visible “dwelling-place” among his people. The church today may not be such an easily seen “temple”, but it will remain until Christ returns in glory, and we are united in the heavenly Jerusalem (Revelation 21:1-5). And while God can be found by those who seek him in any place and at any time, his presence is specially real in the community of his people: the church.

Third, God is the bringer of peace: “he makes wars to cease to the ends of the earth” (verse 9).

As we all know only too well, the psalmist here can only be looking to the future; but he is so certain of what he says that he uses the present tense. A day is to come when not only will bows be broken and spears shattered, but tanks and warplanes, missiles and bullets, bombs and rocket-launchers will be redundant.

And God speaks: “Be still, and know that I am God”. Is that a soothing message of comfort, or a triumphant shout of authority? Is it addressed to the trembling but trusting believer, or to the powers of evil and darkness? Why not both?

But I’ll tell you what it reminds me of: Jesus standing up in the boat as the storm rages: “ ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind died down, and it was completely calm” (Mark 5:35-41). 

Yes, our world does indeed seem chaotic, as it did for the psalmist. But the last word is with God himself: “I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth”.

Anxious Christian, hold on to that!

Oh God, when I feel anxious for myself, for my loved ones, for those among whom I live, for my country, and for this whole troubled and hurting world, please grant me the peace of God that passes all understanding, and the wisdom and strength to do all that I can to make known to others the hope and love which are to be found only in Jesus. Amen.          

Remorse - or repentance?

Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I did regret it—I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while— yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. 2 Corinthians 7:8-10

Have you ever said something a little blunt, a little forceful, to somebody, and later thought “Mmm, I wonder if I should have said that? Did I come across a bit too strong? Is that the end of our friendship?”

It’s easy to do, isn’t it? You spoke in all good faith because you felt it really needed to be said, but…

And now you’re on tenterhooks, wondering what the fall-out might be.

That’s how Paul was when he wrote 2 Corinthians, perhaps the most personal and revealing of all his letters. His relationship with the church at Corinth – a church he had been instrumental in founding, remember – was tense and fragile. Many of the members had listened to gossip about him and didn’t really like him at all, and various critical remarks had been made about him.

So, rather than pay them another visit - his previous visit had been “painful” (2 Corinthians 2:1) - he decided to write them a letter, which he refers to here (verse 8): “…even if I caused you sorrow by my letter”.

What was this letter? Was it the one we now know as “1 Corinthians”? Most New Testament experts think that is unlikely – more likely he wrote a letter which was later lost. But it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that, whatever it was, it caused considerable pain to the Corinthians and left Paul seriously on edge, wondering if he’d blown it once and for all. Oh dear!

But now… his friend and companion Titus has turned up after a visit to Corinth and – wahay! – the news is good! “He told us about your longing for me, your deep sorrow, your ardent concern for me…” (verse 7). Phew! – you cannot almost see Paul breathing a big sigh of relief: “They love me after all!”

What I want to focus on is that word sorrow. It occurs some eight times in this handful of verses, and it’s worth noticing how Paul distinguishes between two very different types of sorrow: “sorrow as God intended” or “godly sorrow”, on the one hand; and “worldly sorrow” on the other.

What it boils down to is the difference between repentance and remorse.

Repentance means being truly sorry and intending to change as a result. A classic example is David in the psalm traditionally attributed to him, Psalm 51, “after he had committed adultery with Bathsheba”. “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sins”. A broken man crying out to God for mercy; and receiving it.

And then of course there is Simon Peter, who “went outside and wept bitterly” after his denial of Jesus (Matthew 26:75). Another man broken by his sense of shame and guilt, he was later forgiven and restored by Jesus.

People sometimes ask why Jesus forgave Peter but not Judas, the man who betrayed him. According to Matthew 27:3-10 Judas “was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver (his fee for betraying Jesus) to the chief priests and the elders. ‘I have sinned’, he said, ‘for I have betrayed innocent blood’…” To which they replied (in effect), “So? That’s your problem”. Whereupon he “went away and hanged himself”.

It’s a fair question to ask, for Judas does indeed seem to be truly sorry (those words “was seized with remorse” could in fact be translated “repented”, as in the NRSV, or even simply “changed his mind”, as in the ESV). We can only say that God, who knows the depths of every human heart, saw something there in Judas which put him beyond the reach of even the divine mercy.

Whatever, Judas obviously decided that death was preferable to living with such a massive weight on his shoulders. That’s sad beyond words.

I wonder if anyone reading this needs to swop remorse for repentance? Yes, you hate what you did – and you’re close to hating yourself as a result. But somehow you just can’t bring yourself to repent – to come to God in total humility and honesty. It’s all become a matter of bitterness and self-recrimination.

The truth is that the longer you persevere in mere remorse the heavier that burden will get; you will be like a person crushed under a ruck-sack. But to repent is, in effect, to take a sharp knife to the straps and let it tumble away. The freedom! The liberation!

Psalm 32 is another one which beautifully expresses this great truth: “Day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer… Then I said ‘I will confess transgressions to the Lord’. And you forgave the guilt of my sin.”

To move from remorse to repentance can be hard; but oh what joy it brings!

Thank you, Father, that you are an infinitely forgiving God. If in any area of my life I am weighed down by the bitterness of remorse, please, by your Spirit, bring me to a place of true repentance. Amen.

The pollution of pornography

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

I recently read in a Christian paper an interview with Ian Henderson, who heads an organisation called Naked Truth. I had never heard of this before, so I know nothing about it beyond that brief article. But I was challenged and disturbed by what I read.

Founded in 2013, Naked Truth exists to make us aware of the effects of pornography in our modern society and, even more, to offer support and guidance to the millions of people whose lives are blighted by it. I’m writing about it today simply because, from what I read, it deserves to be more widely known. (You may yourself, in fact, be someone who needs its help.)

It’s hard to know where to start in highlighting the seriousness of the situation. The statistics alone are alarming enough: one survey reckoned that 49 percent of the UK population had viewed porn on line. Not all of these will be habitual users, of course, but it’s still a figure to stop us in our tracks. And it’s not only men: “33 percent of visitors to porn websites are female”. Another survey found that “56 per cent of divorces cited excessive porn use as a cause of marital breakdown”. (Is there any such thing as porn use that isn’t “excessive”!)

But it’s the issue of availability that is, I think, most disturbing. An MP is quoted as saying, “What is illegal to buy from a sex shop because of UK laws is served up for free every day on line”.

And that, of course, is where children come into the picture – given that so many today have smartphones and other devices, and given that regulation is such a difficult area, who can be sure what they are viewing? The days of “grubby magazines” being passed around at the back of the class are long gone.

Both boys and girls are being fed with utterly false assumptions and expectations about what “normal” sexual experience means, with the result that when they get to adulthood the whole area has been poisoned and nothing in real life is “good enough”. Both boys and girls feel a failure because they don’t measure up. (No wonder other surveys report a rapid rise in mental health problems among young people, especially girls.)

As Christians we might be tempted to say “But of course nothing like that would happen in our church.” Don’t be so sure! Even solid Christians can fall foul of such temptation. We’re all familiar with the grim scandals that flare up from time of time, many involving porn or porn-related issues and often involving high-profile Christian leaders. We shake our heads and say “Who would have thought?”, but it just shows how naïve we are.

I attended a Christian conference many years ago which included a presentation by a small group of women who had experienced abuse of various kinds in their marriages; they were aiming to alert Christians to what was going on. Their husbands were often stalwarts of local churches, if not actual ministers and other church leaders. Very simply, they had a double life – a hidden life.

I wasn’t the only conference-attender whose eyes were opened that day. It happens, and we need to be awake to it.

I also had a friend who worked as a travelling salesman, involving nights spent away from home. He often noticed that the television in the rooms had very few of the regular channels, but several offering porn. He asked at reception why this was so, and was told, “We don’t really like it, sir, but the fact is that people just wouldn’t stay with us if we discontinued this, and business would dry up”. Porn and money are big friends…

Sorry if all this is pretty grim. It’s the sort of situation where we long for good news, and, beyond Christian platitudes, it’s hard to know what we can find. Well, Naked Truth is at least a glimmer in the darkness. Judging by what I read, it’s worthy of our prayers, our support and our interest. Is it something for you to pick up on?

May God help us all to offer the world a model of sexual purity (whatever our personal situation may be) and of marriage as God intended. We mustn’t, of course, panic or despair – God is always sovereign – but prayerful purity and truly Christlike sensitivity are the least we can offer up to him. If nothing more, sheer awareness.

Who knows how many lives might be saved that otherwise would be wrecked?

Perhaps most important of all… If any of us are in need of help in this area, the time to speak up and look for help is – right now. How many years of misery and despair might be saved?

Thanks be to our God that he is a loving, compassionate and forgiving God!

Father, please help all of us as we grapple with issues of our own sexuality. Please have mercy on those who have fallen foul of this corrupt trade – men and women, parents and children, especially those who are far gone in addiction. And please greatly use Naked Truth and other such ministries that are determined to make a difference. Lord, have mercy! Amen.

Eternal life - the real thing, or a pathetic imitation?

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Colossians 3:1

I really didn’t know how to react to what I was reading. With sympathy? - “Oh, how sad! How pathetic!” Or with contempt, even anger? - “How unutterably stupid! How could anyone even think of such a thing?”

I was reading about those mega-rich people who are planning – at enormous expense – to have their bodies deep-frozen when they die so they can be resuscitated at some future date.

The very idea seems grotesque, revolting. Assuming for a moment that it is actually possible, I try to imagine what it might be like to die in 2021 and then to wake up again in, say, 2121… Who am I? Where am I? What is this place that I find myself in? What am I supposed to do? Will I be for ever dependent on these tubes, these people sticking needles in me?

Anyone who has read Frankenstein will be aware of how one writer’s imagination pictured some of the horrors that might lie ahead. And all for what? Presumably, in order one day to die all over again.

Just as the people of Babel set out to build a tower “that reaches to the heavens” (Genesis 11) – an ambition that is still being pursued in many of the world’s enormous cities – so there has also been that goal of defeating death. As if human beings can ever out-god God!

If ever a project exposed the natural human fear of death, this surely is it. This, I suppose, is where the element of sympathy came into my thoughts. Has no-one ever told these deluded people that the thing that they are pursuing, at such great trouble and expense, has in fact already been achieved? Has no-one ever told them the Easter story?... “The women hurried away from the tomb, filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. ‘Greetings’, he said…” (Matthew 28:8-9).

No laboratories. No scientific techniques. No monstrous refrigerators or brilliantly concocted chemicals. Nothing but the sheer almighty power of the God of all creation. A garden – but not, like Eden, with an angelic armed guard declaring “Strictly no entry” (Genesis 3:24). No, a garden with a tomb gaping wide open.

Truly a “new creation” has begun, and one which has no end.

We must make no mistake: without the resurrection there is no such thing as Christianity; with it, there is hope without end. Just read again the glowing words of 1 Corinthians 15!

Death is not an easy thing to come to terms with, even to the person of solid faith in Christ, and it’s not until our eyes open on that wonderful, final resurrection morning that the trouble and sadness will be finally gone.

Two poems spring to mind reflecting different attempts to come to terms with death. The first is Christian, though I would almost say it is slightly over-optimistic.

Francis of Assisi (1182-1226) wrote these words, which were later turned into a hymn…

And thou, most kind and gentle death,/ Waiting to hush our latest breath…/ Thou leadest home the child of God…

It’s true, of course – except for those words “kind and gentle”. Yes, “kindly” and “gently” may be how death takes some people; but they are, I suspect, a small minority. Even those who believed most strongly in Christ’s victory over death still described it as an enemy: “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1 Corinthians15:26) – which implies that while death is defeated in Christ, it is yet to be finally destroyed.

So, what? Well, this reassures us that our shrinking from death is not a failure of faith, a sign of spiritual shallowness, but a natural part of our fallen nature. It’s no accident that after the shocking and premature death of Stephen, the first “Christian” to die (that word, of course, didn’t yet exist), he was “mourned deeply” by the infant church (Acts 8:2).

Let’s never be ashamed to grieve!

The other poem is by Dylan Thomas, who I assume was an unbeliever. He witnesses his father approaching death, and pleads with him…

Do not go gentle into that good night,/ Old age should burn and rave at close of day;/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

It’s a moving and powerful poem. But that sentiment – “burn… rave… rage” – can never, surely, be the attitude of the believer in Christ. Mourn, yes; grieve, of course; but not that!

I can’t think of a better way to finish than with perhaps the Bible’s greatest word on death: here is Paul in Philippians 1:21: “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain”.

An enemy, yes; distressing, yes; perhaps painful, yes. But, in spite of all that, a gain. Christ is alive; and we are alive in him. And, without end, we will be more truly alive than ever we have been in the past.

Lord God, thank you for the victory over death that Jesus has won on our behalf. Thank you that, even when my faith is weak, and the sorrow of death threatens to overwhelm me, I share in that victory, and so have hope. Amen.

The inside you - the real you?

Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy. Proverbs 14:10 (NIV)

Your joy is your own; your bitterness is your own. No one can share them with you. Proverbs 14:10 (Good News)

One of the pleasures – and also the frustrations – of the Book of Proverbs is the way it sometimes dumps a comment in your lap, so to speak, and then just leaves you to get on with it: as if to say, “There you are; make of that what you like”. Proverbs 14:10 is a perfect example: it’s simply an observation, really.

I don’t think anyone would disagree with it. We all have secret selves, joys and sorrows which we carry about inside, and which no-one else knows about. But this verse leaves you feeling like replying to Solomon, or whoever wrote it, “Well, thanks for that pretty obvious observation; you’re right, of course. But what do you expect me to do about it?”

Usually the sayings in Proverbs leave us with a definite challenge, or perhaps a reassurance: “The house of the wicked will be destroyed, but the tent of the upright will flourish” says the very next verse. And you think, “Well, that’s pretty no-nonsense; but yes, I’m glad that God is a holy and just God, and I take seriously his call to be righteous”. And a little further on, verse 21: “It is a sin to despise one’s neighbour, but blessed is the one who is kind to the needy”. And you think to yourself, “Mmm, am I sometimes guilty of arrogance when I look at other people? And do I have a kind and generous heart?”

It’s this sort of unpredictability that makes Proverbs such a great dipping-in book. Have you dipped in recently?

Well, if verse 10 does rather leave us hanging, and it’s up to us to decide for ourselves what we can get out of it that’s of practical value, what can we come up with?

My own immediate reaction is to see it as a challenge to grow in compassion.

The fact is that we can never know more than a millionth part of what is going on in somebody else’s heart. That scowling, ill-mannered teenager – what if he is just beginning to discover unwelcome things about his developing sexuality, and is confused and frightened? That old woman who won’t catch your eye and say good morning – what if she has just come from the hospital and been told that her husband is unlikely to live more than a few weeks? That middle-aged couple who seem to have withdrawn from contact – what if their son and his wife have told them that their marriage is over, so they’ll have to get used to seeing them, not to mention their wonderful grandchildren, much less often? What then?

There’s a lot of sadness about in our world, isn’t there? Not to say sheer heartbreak. But we don’t walk around with a placard round our neck: “I’m very, very sad, so please make allowances for me”. We more likely bottle it up and “put on a brave face”.

Plain bad behaviour is not be excused, of course, and certainly we shouldn’t excuse ourselves. But how often is bad behaviour “plain”? If we knew the full “backstory” behind someone’s character traits and peculiarities, how differently would we treat them? I can’t imagine anyone attempting to excuse Adolf Hitler; but I do remember how I needed to put the book down and spend a couple of minutes looking at the wall-paper when I first read that when he was a little boy his father used to routinely beat him on getting home from work.

It’s a good job that when it comes to judging, God alone knows the full story, isn’t it? No doubt that’s one reason why Jesus stated so bluntly, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way as you judge others, you will be judged…” (Matthew 7:1).

You could take Proverbs 14:10 as a reason for keeping well out of other people’s lives: if I really can’t know another person’s bitternesses and joys, well, I won’t take the trouble to try. But that surely would be wrong. “A problem shared is a problem halved”, they say, and there’s real truth there.

So another challenge arises: Am I the kind of person that other people feel able to confide in? Never intrusive or nosy, of course; but approachable, sympathetic, sensitive, simply kind (isn’t “kind” a lovely word!). Or am I too wrapped up in myself and my own concerns?

We might reply, But I have my own bitternesses too! Yes, indeed. Perhaps then I’m the person who needs to do the sharing…? Yes! Why not?

Whatever, Proverbs 14:10 suggests to me three basic rules of thumb. First: it’s better to make allowance than to pass judgment. Second: always think the best of the other person rather than the worst. Third: remember that even a smiling face may mask an aching heart.

Dear Father, thank you that you know me through and through, yet still love me. Please help me to be sensitive, kind and forgiving to everyone I meet, and to leave any judging to you. Amen.

Glorious nonentities

 ³ We put no stumbling block in anyone’s path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. ⁴ Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; ⁵ in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; ⁶ in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; ⁷ in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; ⁸ through glory and dishonour, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; ⁹ known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; ¹⁰ sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. 2 Corinthians 6:3-10

I have to admit that I always find myself smiling when I read this passage. When we read Paul we usually expect the building-up of a cool, logical argument: Paul the theologian, in fact. But these verses aren’t like that. They are more like an outburst, quite emotional, where he piles one phrase on another almost as if at random – if you read it out loud you are likely to be quite breathless by the time you get to the end (why not try it?).

What’s it all about?

The key is the first part of verse 4: “… as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way”.

Paul wasn’t liked by everyone, and in the Corinth church in particular there were people who tried to discredit him. “Well”, he is saying, “you can criticise me as much as you like, but I won’t tolerate you discrediting my ministry” (verse 3). He wants them to be in no doubt that he is doing his work as an apostle in a truly Christlike spirit. So he hits them right between the eyes with this catalogue of nearly thirty punchy expressions.

They aren’t, in fact, as random as they might seem…

He starts in verses 4-5 with a list of negative things, things to do with outward circumstances: troubles, hardships, distresses; beatings, imprisonments, riots; hard work, sleepless nights, hunger.

Obviously for Paul the service of God wasn’t exactly a bundle of laughs! On the contrary, it involved suffering, and serious suffering at that.

But then in verses 6-7 he suddenly switches to all manner of positive, beautiful things, things to do with inner character: purity, understanding, patience, kindness; the Holy Spirit (that could be translated “a spirit of holiness”), sincere love, truthful speech, the power of God; weapons of righteousness.

And then in verses 8-10, as if despairing of making logical sense of these clashing opposites, he frankly gives up the attempt and puts them side by side: glory and dishonour, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as imposters… (I’ll leave you to go back and read the rest).

It’s all contradictory, of course; but the point Paul is making is that it’s also true. This, he says, is exactly what Christian service is like – and you don’t need to be an apostle like him to be able to say, “Yes, that’s pretty much my experience too; that’s how it is for me as a youth worker, or church leader, or small-group leader, or food-bank organiser, or night-shelter manager, or…” well, you name it.

Anyone involved in any kind of true Christian ministry soon discovers that it’s thrilling – and depressing; exhilarating – and exhausting; joyful – and tearful. Beware of people who only talk enthusiastically about “the sheer joy of Christian service”! – because (whisper it very gently) they, ahem, don’t know what they’re talking about. This wasn’t how Paul found it, was it?

And, far more to the point, this wasn’t how Jesus found his ministry. Wonderful miracles – and squabbling disciples. Adoring listeners – and vicious opponents. Intimacy with his Father – and satanic attacks. Not to mention crucifixion.

Some years ago my wife and I were chatting about the state of our finances. Please be assured, this wasn’t an entirely serious conversation. But things were, shall we say, a bit tight; and perhaps it was also during one of those phases of ministry when things really weren’t very encouraging.

We found ourselves ruminating vaguely on the question: How different might things have been for us if we had never become Christians at all, but lived a completely “worldly” life? Or if, having become Christians, we hadn’t ended up as a minister and his wife?

Our financial giving to our own church and to different areas of Christian work has never been anything very remarkable – please don’t think that – but, well, it all builds up over the years, doesn’t it? And so we couldn’t help reflecting how much trouble and trial we might have been saved, even how much fatter our bank balance might have been. The holidays we might have had… the cars we might have been able to afford… the little treats we might have been able to enjoy…

At this point we smiled and asked: But would we want it to have been any different? To which, of course, there could only be one answer…

I feel slightly ashamed to talk about our tiny difficulties in the same breath as the things Paul is talking about – “light and momentary troubles” (2 Corinthians 4:17) indeed! But in our sinful humanity I would hazard a guess that everyone who genuinely aims to live a life in the service of God is tempted occasionally to feel, well, resentful, let’s put it no stronger than that. Could that be you?

The lesson of Paul’s dramatic catalogue is as simple as it could be… When things are going well, when your work seems satisfying and fruitful – great! But don’t take it for granted; it won’t always be that way; there will be troubles and pressures, disappointments and frustrations.

And when things are hard, a slog rather than soaring on wings, tiring, demanding and seemingly unrewarding – don’t lose heart! So it was for Paul. So it was for Jesus himself. Why not also for you and me?

As Paul put it in 1 Corinthians 15:58: “Stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourself fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labour in the Lord is not in vain”.

Father God, thank you for the privilege of knowing you and, even more, of serving you. Please help me to rejoice in the good times and to hold fast in the hard ones, knowing that you have in store for me something wonderful beyond description. Amen.

All truth is God's truth

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good”. Romans 12:21

The philosopher Socrates lived over 400 years before Jesus. This puts him roughly into the same period as the biblical prophets Haggai and Zechariah, and the two nation-builders Ezra, priest and scribe, and Nehemiah, builder and administrator.

In other words, this is the time when the events recorded in the Old Testament are coming to an end – a time when, after the misery and humiliation of the “exile” in Babylon (catch a strong flavour of that in Psalm 137), God’s people are re-establishing themselves as a nation.

Socrates, then, knew nothing of Jesus. Presumably he will have known something of the Jews and their God, but as a Greek he was part of a great flowering of learning, philosophy and culture with which that nation is still associated. He never wrote a book, but his disciple Plato recorded many of his dialogues, and passed on his legacy.

Most of us – certainly me – know next to nothing about Socrates. And why should we, when we have Jesus as saviour, lord and teacher? Fair enough. But the fact that we acknowledge Jesus as Lord doesn’t mean that there aren’t other fascinating figures in human history, figures from whom we can learn and who might even point in a dim way towards Jesus.

Certainly, various opinions Socrates is remembered for could be taken as anticipating the teaching of Jesus. One of the best-known and simplest is this: it is worse to do wrong than to suffer it. It may not feel that way at the time; but could any of us, having thought about those words as Christians, possibly disagree with them?

And for Socrates they weren’t just empty words, for he himself died what might be called a martyr’s death.

He was condemned by the authorities in Athens. His crimes were “impiety” - that he didn’t believe in the city’s gods – and that he “corrupted the youth by his teaching” – this because he encouraged them to think things through for themselves and not just swallow whole the stories of the gods and heroes of the Greek legends, including their grossly immoral behaviour.

He was made to drink the poison hemlock, which he did with calm and dignity. The night before he died he was offered the chance to escape, but he turned it down, preferring to spend the time in discussion with his friends.

A man worthy of our attention, I would say.

I don’t know if Jesus ever heard of Socrates. But he certainly would have agreed with that saying - that it is worse to do wrong than to suffer it. He put much the same thought in even more startling terms with his command: “Do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other also” (Matthew 5: 39). He told his followers: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:43).

Paul sums it up perfectly when he writes “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21).

What a wonderful world this would be if everyone followed that command! It reminds us that those who follow Jesus are not just “ordinary” people - nice people tidied up a bit - but transformed people, people who are being made a little more like Jesus every day.

Is that how you see yourself? Truly a “new creation” in Christ? Again, Paul puts it perfectly in 2 Corinthians 3:18: “we all (note that “all”!) … are being transformed into his image from glory to glory”.

Christian, you are already glorious today! - and tomorrow you will be even more glorious. And one day…!

Why did I, a Christian, start this blog with Socrates? Because I want to put him on a par with Jesus? Of course not. To be honest, I just came across his name in something I was reading. But perhaps there were two reasons lurking at the back of my mind.

First, while of course the Bible is always our priority, we need to remember that this world presents us with all sorts of individuals who had fascinating things to say, and who, for better or worse, changed the course of human history. Socrates was not, as far as I know, a particularly “religious” man, but he had convictions, and he lived a particular kind of life, which fed into the flow of religious ideas.

It’s said that “everything is connected to everything else”. As long as Jesus is always at the centre, isn’t it good if we Christians have what I would call a hungry mind, eager to expand our knowledge?

More specifically, thinking about Socrates takes us to that “gap” period between the two testaments, between Malachi and Matthew. A lot happened in those years! – but we tend to be woefully ignorant of the main developments, the lead-up to Matthew’s compelling words, “This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about…” (Matthew 1:18).

Is it time to plug a gap in our knowledge?

Father, you love the whole world and all its peoples, not only Israel in days gone by and your church today, but “all tribes, nations, peoples and tongues”. Give me a desire to learn about “all people that on earth do dwell”, and to see them in the light of Jesus. Amen.

There are many good books, both Christian and non-Christian, which help to fill in the gap between the testaments and generally to help us see how the Bible hangs together. My very warm recommendation would be the Lion Handbook to the Bible. True, it won’t tell you much about Socrates, but it is an absolute goldmine of information provided by well-qualified authors. Lots of colour pictures! Lots of maps, charts and other graphics too; and all in colour. The charts on pages 26-29 are a perfect starting-point for anyone interested in exploring the Christian faith in its wider world-wide context. Next time somebody asks you what you’d like for Christmas…

(And just in case you’re wondering… no, I’m not on commission from Lion.)

A woman, a man, and a flock of sheep (2)

Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends? Song of Songs 1:7

Last time thought how important it is to appreciate what kind of literature we are reading when we come to different parts of the Bible. If we are not to misunderstand them, the various books have to be understood in their proper light and applied in their proper context.

To illustrate this principle I picked one of the Bible’s most puzzling books, the Song of Songs, and focussed pretty much at random on the verse above, asking what sense we can make of it. What sort of book is the Song? Why has God (who is never mentioned, by the way) seen fit to give it to us in his word? Is there something wrong with us if we find it almost hopelessly obscure?

It’s probably easier to say what it isn’t than what it is. It isn’t law, like Leviticus or Deuteronomy. It isn’t history, like Kings or Chronicles or a Gospel. It isn’t a letter or a prophesy. It isn’t praise of God, like the Psalms. It isn’t visionary material – “apocalyptic” – like Ezekiel or Daniel or Revelation.

So… what is it?

Traditionally, it has been grouped with books referred to as “Wisdom” literature, along with Job, Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. These books are largely poetic, and they do their job more by creating impressions, thoughts and questions in our minds, and by stirring our imaginations, than by straight teaching. They very often deal with down-to-earth, everyday life, and challenge us about how we grapple with these issues. Its wisdom with its sleeves rolled up, not just intellectual cleverness.

Broadly speaking, the Song has been interpreted in two main ways throughout both Jewish and Christian history.

First, allegory.

An allegory is usually a simple enough story, but one which carries a second meaning for those with eyes to see. On the face of it the Narnia stories are tales about a magic land, a lion and four children. But the lion experiences death and returns to life to win freedom and joy for Narnia and the children. So no wonder Christians have seen the stories as being really about Jesus.

Jesus himself, in some of his parables, used allegories. The sower who goes out sowing his seed is the messenger of God spreading the good news of the kingdom. The different types of toil represent the people who hear and respond in different ways.

And likewise the Song portrays the relationship between God and his people Israel, or Jesus and his church, as a love relationship between a man and a woman. There is intense joy; there is pain; there is deep longing; there is ultimate fulfilment.

Convincing? To most Bible-readers this smacks more of wishful thinking than of realistic reading. True, Jesus is described in the New Testament as a shepherd, like the main male figure in the Song; and he is also pictured as the bridegroom of his bride, the church. But once you’ve said that, that’s about it, and it certainly isn’t an interpretation that hits you between the eyes!

Second, it’s exactly what it first appears to be: a love poem, or perhaps a sequence of love poems. And the reason God has given it to us in the Bible is to remind us of the sheer beauty of love between a man and a woman – yes, even along with some of the pains and hurts that such love brings. That understanding has the merit of being natural and literal.

It is frankly erotic – the very first line, “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth” reminds us that sex, properly used, is good. (It was, after all, invented by God (who else!?), and should be delighted in.)

The beauty of nature is also something to be enjoyed – the fragrances and fruits, the trees and the flowers, the wonder of the human body (not least the female body). We read about gazelles and does and stags as well as sheep, and are reminded of the teeming vitality, energy and fruitfulness of the animal kingdom. This could almost be a picture of Adam and Eve before the fall!

If you are determined to find a story in these eight chapters, you won’t be the first to try; there certainly are scraps of narrative along the way, but trying to piece them together is a lost cause. (One theory is that the woman is a simple country girl longing for her childhood sweetheart while King Solomon is on the prowl, wanting to add her to his harem. Convincing?)

A vital principle of Bible-reading is to take it in the most natural sense possible, unless there is very good reason. And for my money, that means that the Song of Songs is a poem designed to fire our imaginations and to cause us to delight in both the wonders of creation and, particularly, the beauty of human love. That’ll do for me!

Father in heaven, thank you for your greatest gift of all, the gift of love. Thank you for your love for us so clearly demonstrated in Jesus. But thank you too for human love, the love of man and woman, family love, friendship love, the love of nature, and sexual love. Teach me always to love with faithfulness, sacrifice and purity. Amen.

A woman, a man, and a flock of sheep

Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends? Song of Songs 1:7

One thing I felt I wasn’t too bad at as a minister was encouraging people to read the Bible. No problem there! “The Bible is the word of God, so aim to read it every day!” Simple.

But telling people to read the Bible is one thing, teaching them how to read it is very different; and in that respect I fear I fell short. And perhaps I’m not the only one.

You might say (especially if you want to be kind) “What’s your problem? All people have to do” (assuming they can read; I know not everyone can) “is open the Bible and read it. Again, simple”.

But wait a minute. Is it simple? Look at Song of Songs 1:7, which I have quoted at the top. Oh yes, anyone who is literate can read those words, parrot-fashion if necessary. But what’s the good of that if they simply baffle our understanding?

The speaker is a woman, and the person she is speaking to is the man she loves. It would appear that he is a shepherd. But what more do we know? She seems to be a bit aggrieved at the way he is treating her. But – who is she? And who is he? Why is she “veiled”? Or is she in fact veiled? What’s troubling her? And who are these “friends”?

“Oh, you have to look at the context”, someone will say. And quite right too. That’s a vital rule when it comes to reading the Bible. But it doesn’t really solve the problem here, for “the context” is in effect the whole book, all eight chapters. And even after you’ve read them right through, you may not be much the wiser.

For one thing, there’s no mention of God - nor, of course, of Jesus, this being in the Old Testament. To be honest, you might even find yourself wondering “What is this book doing in the Bible!” (I’ve picked out Song of Songs 1:7 pretty much at random, by the way; I could have chosen almost any verse to make the point – which is that reading the Bible is not a simple matter.)

I suspect most of us, if we read this little book at all, hurry through it out of a sense of duty, and then turn to a Psalm or a bit of a Gospel or a letter; what a relief! But is that really satisfactory? Aren’t we rather like the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8:31: when asked if he understood what he was reading in Isaiah he replied, “How can I, unless someone explains it to me?” How indeed?

Picture, please, a pile of books… a crime novel, a cookery book, a car maintenance manual, an anthology of poetry, and a fairy tale. All these have one thing in common – yes, they’re books! But pretty well nothing else. And – and this is the point – they all need to be read in different ways. Try and read a telephone directory the same way you read a novel and you’ll soon lose interest (no shortage of characters, but not much of a story-line).

We can draw a comparison with the Bible. It consists of what we call “books”, sixty-six of them, though some are little more than a page or two. And if you were to read, say, the Psalms the same way you read Revelation, or Mark’s Gospel the same way you read Isaiah, there’s only one result: confusion. Before we set out to read a book we need to be clear what kind of book it is, and then read it accordingly.

Because we believe the Bible is the word of God, we believe it is true. But even that little word isn’t quite as simple as we sometimes think. Take the Narnia stories: are they true? Answer: yes - and no.

On the one hand, no of course they’re not; they are stories, fantasies, the product of somebody’s imagination. No such place as Narnia has ever existed, no such lion as Aslan neither. But on the other hand, yes they are; Aslan stands for Jesus, dying and rising again; the White Witch stands for the devil. In these children’s stories C S Lewis retells the Christian story – the true story – in imaginative form.

You don’t hear it so much these days, but when I was a young Christian over fifty years ago, you heard people say things like “I don’t bother about all this interpretation stuff – I just take the Bible in its plain, simple, straightforward sense”.

Which sounds great: but what about when the meaning of a verse or passage just isn’t plain, or simple, or straightforward? What’s the plain, simple and straightforward sense of Song of Songs 1:7 - whether we pluck it out of context or try to see it in the book as a whole?

How then should we read the Song of Songs? How, indeed, should we read the Bible as a whole? We’ll have to come back to it next time…!

Thank you, Father, for the rich variety of your word, the Bible. Thank you for the largely simple parts which I can read and benefit from immediately. But thank you too for the challenging and puzzling parts which often only yield up their treasures after perseverance and determined reflection. Please help me by your Spirit to give those parts the time and patience they need. Amen.