A love deep and lasting

But Timothy has just now come to us from you and has brought good news about your faith and love. He has told us that you always have pleasant memories of us and that you long to see us, just as we also long to see you. Therefore, brothers and sisters, in all our distress and persecution we were encouraged about you because of your faith. For now we really live, since you are standing firm in the Lord. 1Thessalonians 3:6-8

It dawned on me a few days ago (I’m not very good at consciously remembering anniversaries and things) that this summer marked fifty years since I was ordained into Christian ministry. In fact this month of October, 1971, saw me inducted into my first pastorate. Wonderful memories of Scunthorpe, North Lincolnshire!

Fifty years is a long time… By pure coincidence (as far as I know) I today received a Facebook “friend” request. I must have met the would-be friend almost exactly fifty years ago, for my induction was the occasion I became her pastor. I subsequently conducted her and her husband’s wedding. Did I also baptise them? I think I must have done though, to my shame, I can’t now be absolutely sure (but if not me, then I can’t think who else).

By another coincidence I attended, last week, a conference for ministers beginning to prepare for retirement. That didn’t include me, of course; no, I was there as one of the old hands who know everything there is to know about retirement (ha very ha) and whose job it was to pass on the benefit of their wisdom to these young sixty-somethings still on their way. It was, I think, a lively, happy occasion, though not without its serious side.

One topic we discussed was how close a pastor might, or should, remain to a church he or she has left. Should they remain in the membership? or head for the Outer Hebrides? or join another church a mile down the road? or what?

The feeling was that, as a general rule, it was probably unwise to stay in the same congregation. To do so is unfair to your successor; one sometimes hears horror stories about how a former minister turns out to be an absolute menace by staying on. But to move on is far from easy - the word “bereavement” cropped up more than once. In any reasonably happy pastorate strong relationships get formed which don’t dissolve simply because you’re no longer in day-to-day contact. Love, after all, isn’t something you can turn off like a tap; and isn’t love - that and nothing less - what we’re talking about when it comes to “pastor and people”?

Certainly, tact and sensitivity are vital if we maintain friendships with former church members. But, as that out-of-the-blue Facebook request demonstrated, the bonds we form in Christ can be amazingly durable. Which, surely, is exactly how it should be?

It’s all in the Bible, of course – not least in the ministry of the apostle Paul, though he was never simply a “local minister”. His two short letters to the church in Thessalonica simply ooze care and affection. An earlier separation from them was like being “orphaned” or “bereaved” (2:17), such was his feeling of “intense longing” for them. He describes them as his “glory and joy” (2:20). A point was reached when he “could stand it no longer” (3:1, and again in 3:5).

So when, at long last, Timothy turned up from Thessalonica (3:6), I can imagine Paul jumping out of his chair, grabbing hold of him by the throat, still sweaty and dusty from the journey though he was, and demanding, “So how are they?” And the massive sigh of relief and pleasure when Timothy told his news (3:6-9): they are “standing firm in the Lord”. Let no-one imagine that Paul was a dry, crusty old theologian; more like a besotted parent, or a mooning lover!

What in particular was it that bound Paul so emotionally to the Thessalonians? It isn’t, after all, only Christians - or Christian ministers - who feel deep and lasting love for people they no longer see.

The answer comes across clearly in the first three chapters of the letter: in essence, the church in Thessalonica was the fruit of his evangelistic ministry (1:5 and 2:2). He had shared their lives (1:5 again); he saw himself as having cared for them “like a nursing mother” (2:7-8) and also as a loving father (2:11; he obviously wasn’t too bothered about mixing his metaphors!).

In a word, his very existence had become intertwined with theirs in a way that physical absence couldn’t possibly disentangle.

It’s true, of course, that this is the case across the whole spectrum of Christian fellowship, not just “pastor and people”. There’s an old hymn which captures it beautifully…

Blest be the tie that binds/ Our hearts in Christian love;/ The fellowship of kindred minds/ Is like to that above… When for a while we part,/ This thought will soothe our pain,/ That we shall still be joined in heart,/ And hope to meet again… From sorrow, toil and pain,/ And sin we shall be free:/ And perfect love and friendship reign/ Through all eternity.

Yes, that’s true of all Christian fellowship. But there is a particularly strong bond with those for whom we have served as spiritual mid-wife. This is something my wife and I certainly found when eventually, and painfully, we moved on from Scunthorpe – only to find exactly the same thing in north-west London. Wonderful memories too of Lindsay Park, Kenton!

Thank you, Father, for the heavenly love that binds your people together. Help me to cherish and delight in it, and to eagerly anticipate the day when it will be perfected in your immediate presence. Amen.

Oh, what a shambles!

Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple, and that God’s Spirit lives among you? 1 Corinthians 3:16

It’s quite common for churches to compile a “profile” designed to give to visitors, or perhaps potential future leaders, so they have some idea of the church’s strengths and weaknesses. It’s a pretty good idea.

But suppose you were looking for a church to join and they gave you a profile such as this…

·        We tend to be argumentative, quarrelsome and immature.

·        We easily split into factions behind our favourite leaders.

·        We tend to be arrogant, with a high opinion of our own wisdom and gifting.

·        We turn a blind eye to sexual immorality within our membership; in fact, we are quite proud of our liberated attitude in this respect.

·        We have members who are happy to take other members to law over various disagreements.

·        When we have fellowship meals, including the Lord’s Supper, it’s quite common for those who get there first to eat all the food and drink all the drink and not bother about the poorer people who turn up later. And if some of them get drunk, well, so what?

·        We are very proud of all the charismatic gifts we have – so much so that our worship services can be quite riotous and chaotic.

·        So why not come and join us!

Most of us, I suspect, wouldn’t have too many problems answering that question. It sounds like a church worth avoiding like the plague.

No such profile would ever be written, of course; the whole idea is ludicrous. And yet the Christian community in Corinth was, if Paul’s first letter to them is to be believed, precisely like this - you can find all these outrageous characteristics just by skim-reading your way through the first letter. Of course there were good features as well, and Paul acknowledges them; but it’s these ugly characteristics that he’s specially concerned about.

And this is a church that he himself planted! No wonder he’s a troubled man writing a troubled letter.

In view of all this, you might ask the question: If this is so, how could Paul possibly write the words of chapter three, verse 16: “Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple, and that God’s Spirit lives among you?” Really? Really!?

If you or I were writing to this church, I suspect we might accuse them of not in fact being Christians at all. True, Paul accuses them of being immature Christians – “still worldly – mere infants in Christ” (3:1) – but at no point does he suggest that they have never become Christians. How can we explain this? How can such a shambles of a church claim to be truly Christian?

We must recognise, of course, that these people were still relatively new Christians, and that they belonged to a city dedicated to many gods and idols. As well as material prosperity and different forms of culture, there was much sexual vice and what today we might call paganism. So on conversion to Christ these people had started from a low base morally and spiritually.

And this reminds us that new converts don’t, generally, become holy people overnight! – time is needed for them to learn and grow and to absorb the way of Jesus. No wonder, then, that things which shock us today – and which in fact shocked Paul at the time – were in evidence as he wrote. That doesn’t excuse them, any more than it would today, but it does at least makes it understandable.

We need to be patient with new-born Christians! We need perhaps to look back to our own early days in the Christian life. Did we become perfect overnight? (Are we perfect now, come to that?)

But “the temple of the Holy Spirit”…! That certainly seems a lofty description. Yet Paul means it. We, the church, represent God’s visible presence on earth, as did once the tabernacle made by Moses and the temple built by Solomon. God is made known to the unbelieving world through the community of sinful men and women who are being transformed, little by little and day by day, into the likeness of Christ. That, and nothing less, is what being a Christian means; and that is why Paul can use the seemingly exaggerated language of 1 Corinthians 3:16.

If this is true, it needs to come with a warning. We mustn’t allow it to lull us into complacency: “Oh well, then, if a shambolic bunch like Corinth was truly the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, perhaps holiness and Christlikeness don’t actually matter all that much after all! That really is the grace of God – so why not turn a blind eye to sin so that grace may have more scope to operate?” (Some people in the early church thought that that was in fact what Paul preached – a suggestion that horrified him – as we see in Romans 6:1-14.)

No! A thousand times No! We are to view 1 Corinthians 3:16-17 as a solemn challenge, as a stimulus to seek, every day of our lives, to become more like Jesus.

Is that the great ambition of your life?

Thank you, Father, for making me part of your holy temple, a dwelling-place of the Holy Spirit. Give me a holy hatred of sin, and a true hunger and thirst for righteousness. Amen.

Time to kick up a fuss?

When Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they arrived, he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group. The other Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that by their hypocrisy even Barnabas was led astray. Galatians 2:11-13

It must have been an absolutely electrifying moment – two giants of the early church, Cephas (that’s Peter) and Paul confronting one another before the confused and bemused congregation in Antioch. In a nutshell, Paul told Peter he was “condemned” and guilty of “hypocrisy”; even worse, he did it “in front of them all”. A public spectacle!

Never mind what the problem was – you have to read the whole passage to discover that. What matters is that the apostle Paul obviously felt there were times it might be necessary to express disagreement with fellow-Christians – to put it crudely, to kick up a fuss. On this occasion he felt that Peter’s error was fatal to the essence of the gospel, so he didn’t hold back. (On another occasion (Acts 15:36-41) he fell out with his old friend and mentor Barnabas, though you might wonder if that rift was quite so justified.)

We all hate divisions and disagreements in the church – or, at least, I hope we do. We should do everything we possibly can to avoid them; Jesus, after all, is the Prince of Peace, and he calls us to be “peace-makers” (Matthew 5:9).

But, if these stories in Acts and Galatians are anything to go by, there may be occasions when the unpleasantness of disagreement is better than allowing a vital gospel-principle to be sacrificed. The question is: how do we decide when to take a deep breath and kick up a fuss, and when to bite our lip and keep our mouth shut?

I want to suggest three questions we can ask ourselves before we launch out into disagreement.

First, is the issue big enough?

That dramatic day in Antioch Paul obviously felt something vital was at stake. Had he kept his head down the early church could well have developed in a completely different way; in fact, it could have split in two, a Jewish church and a separate gentile church, a denial of all that Jesus was about.

In church life today divisions can arise over all sorts of issues that are essentially trivial. When I was a young Christian it was matters like what version of the Bible was “right”, or whether music in a modern idiom was “acceptable”, or what mode of dress was “appropriate” in church: nothing touching the heart of the gospel at all.

Then, as now, different groups had different doctrinal emphases: issues concerning the “baptism of the Holy Spirit”, perhaps, or how we should envisage Christ’s “Second Coming”, or how to reconcile divine predestination and human free will. Such disagreements were more serious, but often still not something to fall out over. Today, all sorts of other questions demand our thoughts and prayers.

Whatever, it is often a matter of fine judgment; so we need to proceed only very cautiously.

Second, have I got my facts right?

Misunderstandings arise tragically easily. I personally can think of situations over the years where I picked up a completely wrong impression of someone or something, mounted my warhorse and charged into battle – and ended up muttering a pathetic apology… “Sorry, I hadn’t realised that…”

How much hurt and damage I had done along the way - well, I preferred not to think about it.

Proceed only with great care!

Third, are my motives pure?

In TS Eliot’s play Murder in the Cathedral, Archbishop Thomas Becket talks about the danger of “doing the right deed for the wrong reason”. Which raises intriguing questions: would it be better not to do it then, even if it is indeed the right deed? can any deed be “right” if done for the wrong reason?

Well, that’s a matter for individual conscience. But the fact is that God alone knows the depths of our hearts, and what really motivates us. We can fool ourselves into thinking we are acting out of genuine concern and love for the church, when in fact “it’s all about me” - my reputation, my injured pride, my status in the church, even perhaps a nasty desire for revenge or to put somebody down. Let’s face it – most of us aren’t anything like as nice inwardly as we like to appear outwardly, are we? Jesus said “Blessed are the pure in heart”.

Again, proceed only with great care!

Perhaps we should add a fourth question: Have I honestly and sincerely opened myself to the possibility that in fact it’s me who’s wrong?

Pardon? How dare you? Me wrong? Impossible!

Are you sure? Are you really sure?

Lord Jesus, please help me in all things to be a peace-maker, and to risk disturbing the peace only when the cause is certainly right, when the facts are crystal clear, and when I am sure my motives are pure. Amen.

Do you have the mind of Christ?

We have the mind of Christ. 1 Corinthians 2:16

Do you ever think about your mind? I don’t mean as in “Gosh, what a stupendous genius I am!”, but more simply as in “What a wonderful thing the mind is! How come it can actually do everything that it does?”

We’re told that even the most ordinary person’s mind is more powerful than the most advanced computer – that memory! that ability to calculate! that capacity to reason and argue, to hold a complex train of thought or to juggle five different responsibilities all at the same time! And it’s all contained in that squashy stuff packed inside your skull.

Last Sunday in our church we had a sermon on the theme of wisdom, based on 1 Corinthians 2. Paul tells the Christians of Corinth that he visited them as anything but a pedlar of human cleverness. Oh no, he says, my only concern was to declare to you the gospel – the good news – which God in his love has made known to men and women in the person of his Son Jesus.

Not that we are devoid of wisdom, he goes on to say: far from it! No, we declare a profound, divine wisdom which has only just been fully disclosed through the gospel. And it’s through God’s Holy Spirit that we have received it: “What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the spirit who is from God…” (verse12).

Paul is claiming that God’s whole purpose and intention in creating the human race (and what’s that if not wisdom?) is summed up in the life, death and resurrection of Christ. Nothing less than that. So… You want to know what life is all about? Well, you know where to look!

1 Corinthians 2 ends with a simple, very short sentence: “We have the mind of Christ”.

If that is right, then it’s a wonderful truth, something to humble us. But it does raise a question: as somebody said, smiling, after that sermon, “If we all have the mind of Christ, how come we disagree so much?” A fair question.

This was brought home to me some years ago when I had a disagreement (thoroughly friendly) with another member of our church’s eldership. After a bit of a discussion we decided to let the matter rest and each of us go away, pray about it and then compare notes next time. The result? He came round to my point of view… And I came round to his. Ah!

How could we explain that? Where was “the mind of Christ” then? My own conclusion was threefold: (a) God has a sense of humour; (b) some differences aren’t sufficiently important for even God to bother about; (c) perhaps our “Christ-mind” still has a bit of developing to do.

Right or wrong, I don’t think any of us in that meeting lost any sleep in the following weeks.

In the Bible the theme of wisdom is often mixed in with the theme of the Spirit. Go back to Isaiah 40:12-14, where the prophet reels off a list of rhetorical questions, making clear that no human mind can begin to fathom the eternal mind of God: “Whom did the Lord consult to enlighten him, and who taught him the right way? Who was it that taught him knowledge, or showed him the path of understanding?” I think we all know what the answers to those questions are… Especially: “Who can fathom the Spirit of the Lord…?”, where “spirit” is pretty much tantamount to “mind”. Answer: no-one, actually.

It’s no accident that a large section of the Old Testament, especially Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, is often known as “wisdom literature”, where “wisdom” means not intellectual sharpness but a God-given , practical grasp of how life should be lived, a grasp given through the Spirit.

It’s no accident either that when Jesus tells us to obey “the greatest commandment” (Mark 12:28-31) he tells us to “love God with all your heart… soul… mind… and strength”. Our minds matter!

Perhaps the most penetrating verses about our minds in the whole New Testament are Romans 12:1-2: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world” (that is, don’t just go with the flow) “but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” (that is, start thinking in completely new, fresh, Spirit-led ways).

Those words seem very simple, but in reality they are life-changing. They are asking “Do you sincerely want to be a transformed person, a Christlike person?” If you do, you must take seriously the need to have your mind renewed, and this happens through worship, prayer, scripture, fellowship and the whole panoply of God-given gifts of grace.

Oh yes, we believers “have the mind of Christ”, no doubt about that; daily we are learning to think with a new mind. But let there be no doubt also: there’s a whole lot more of divine wisdom for us still to enter into!

How keen are you for that?

May the mind of Christ my Saviour/ Live in me from day to day,/ By his love and power controlling/ All I do and say. Amen.  Kate B Wilkinson (1859-1928)

No turning back! (2)

Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable forces? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? You are observing special days and months and seasons and years! I fear for you, that somehow I have wasted my efforts on you. Galatians 4:8-11

From this time many of Jesus’ disciples turned back and no longer followed him. John 6:66

Last time we looked at the crisis in the churches of Galatia, a crisis which troubled and even angered the apostle Paul, prompting him to write this punchy little letter. “I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you to live in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel – which is really no gospel at all…” (Galatians 1:6). Thus he protests, a mere five verses in.

We saw that the Galatian Christians – mainly gentiles rather than Jews - had accepted the teaching of people who told them that in order to follow Jesus they must first submit to the Jewish laws: in effect, to become Jews themselves. “You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you?” he explodes (Galatians 3:1).

Sadly, God’s people have a history of turning away from the One who loves and saves them.

Shortly after the great “exodus” from Egypt under Moses, and the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea, they start grumbling about how hard life is in the desert. They hanker after the nice food they had had in Egypt, “the fish, cucumbers, leeks, onions and garlic” (Numbers 11:5), and even (would you believe it!) want to go back into captivity. Paul in Galatians is, in effect, playing the same part as Moses in Exodus.

What happened in the days of Moses and Paul – indeed, again and again throughout Old Testament history – still happens today. So we need to ask the question: What might be some of the things that tempt us to “turn back” from our loyalty to Jesus?

1.  1    It might be wrong teaching, as with the Galatians.

There’s no shortage of false teaching around, as Jesus warned us (Matthew 7:15-20).

The “prosperity gospel” is a prime candidate, for example, telling people that if they follow Jesus whole-heartedly they are guaranteed both wealth and health. So too some forms (not all!) of the charismatic movement: there’s something wrong with you if you haven’t experienced a “baptism of the Holy Spirit” and are able to “speak in tongues”. And various forms of “Christian Zionism”, which place a distorted emphasis on modern Israel.

Such teachings can sound very convincing, so we need to keep our heads, stick to clear scripture, and not be taken in.

2.   2   It might be persecution.

You can only sympathise with Christians who find it hard to stay true to Jesus under the threat of prison or torture. There are those whose children are thrown out of school for their parents’ faith, or families who have their supply of water or electricity cut off by the authorities. The variations of injustice and sheer cruelty are endless.

God alone can judge those who turn back under such circumstances: and the least the rest of us can do is to remember them in our prayers and perhaps offer support to organisations which operate on their behalf. (Hebrews 13:3 spells this out.)

3.  3    It might – of course – be plain temptation.

Jesus was sorely tempted, most notably (but not only) in Matthew 4; so why would we imagine we won’t be?

We have an enemy, the devil, whose role is to drag us down and prompt us to develop attitudes and behaviours which are wrong. And sometimes he succeeds, we fall into sin, and find ourselves estranged from God. It’s true that we may not have consciously or deliberately “turned back”, but temptation is a slippery slope, and before we know where we are our lives have lost any Christ-like flavour (not to mention any joy, peace and fulfilment).

Are any of us today losing our battle against the tempter? Are any of us living in deliberate disobedience?

4.  4    It might be weariness or disillusionment.

Again, this isn’t necessarily a deliberate turning back, but, rather, a running out of steam, a gradual sapping of our spiritual energy. (Paul later urges the Galatians not to “become weary in doing good” (6:9).)

Perhaps we weren’t well taught before trusting in Jesus, and had got the idea into our heads that the Christian life was easy; only later do we discover that it can in fact be very hard indeed – that when Jesus spoke of “taking up our cross” to follow him, he actually meant it.

Or you may be a faithful Christian who has served loyally in a small, struggling church and seen little fruit. Some believers are called to live in particularly barren areas, perhaps where another religious tradition is dominant, and simply become discouraged.

No doubt other reasons for turning back could be added. But the ones I have listed probably cover most such situations.

So… what should we do?

Perhaps we need, quite simply, to repent of our sin and rededicate ourselves to God. Perhaps we need to award ourselves (so to speak) a period of reflection and even rest. Perhaps we are overdue for a long, honest chat with a trusted friend.

But the one thing we certainly don’t need is to drift along just as we are. Serious action is required – and now.

Father, please forgive me if I have “lost my first love” and grown cold to you. Please rekindle my faith and commitment so that, however hard the way may be, I may know the peace and joy of walking with Jesus. Amen.

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed!/ How sweet their memory still!/ But they have left an aching void/ The world can never fill.      William Cowper (1731-1800)

No turning back! (1)

Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable forces? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? You are observing special days and months and seasons and years! I fear for you, that somehow I have wasted my efforts on you. Galatians 4:8-11

Every now and then you hear about a prisoner who reaches the end of their sentence and gets released – only then to find that they want to get back inside. They have so much looked forward to that day! But then it turns out that they just can’t cope with the outside world. There are even reports of people committing another crime purely in order to be sent back.

It seems almost unbelievable; yet it’s understandable. That person has become “institutionalised”. However wretched prison life might be, at least it provides a community of a sort, not to mention “bed and board”, perhaps also activities and opportunities for hobbies and educational pursuits. The outside world seems uncertain and frightening, even with various kinds of support.

When Paul wrote to the gentile Christians of Galatia, this is how he felt they were in in a spiritual sense: they used to be in prison, then they were set free, and now, incredibly, they are going back where they came from. If you read the words above you can almost see him throwing up his hands in frustration and disappointment. They’re turning back!

Christians who turn back: it’s a reality that every church has to come to terms with, today as in Galatia 2000 years ago. So I want to ask two questions. First, what was going on in Galatia that caused this to happen? And then – and this will have to be next time - what might be the things that tempt us to turn back today?

First, then, what was going on in Galatia that left Paul so troubled?

Galatia wasn’t a town or city, but an extensive province of the Roman empire. The experts disagree on exactly how to dovetail together this letter that Paul wrote to them, on the one hand, and the account of his missionary activities in Acts, on the other. But the place to start is Acts 13-14, where we read that Paul and Barnabas visited the Galatian towns of Pisidian Antioch, Iconium, Lystra and Derbe, and preached the gospel there. Many became believers in Christ, so that new churches were formed. And – and this is the key point – many of these new believers were gentiles rather than Jews: pagans, originally worshipping false gods. In fact, at Lystra they got so excited by the things Paul and Barnabas did that they decided they too must be gods and tried to offer them animal sacrifice, much to the horror of the apostles (Acts 14:8-18).

These were exciting days. Remember, all the first followers of Jesus were Jews; they recognised him as the Messiah foretold by the Old Testament prophets. But, now, here were non-Jews believing in him as their Messiah too!

Wonderful.

But it raised a question: were these new converts to be accepted as fellow believers in Jesus just as they were, or did they need, in effect, to become Jews first? Should they be required to submit to Old Testament laws and the Jewish calendar; especially, should the men be expected to be circumcised?

Paul and Barnabas were in no doubt. We are saved through faith in Christ alone! So welcome them into the body of Christ just as they are, requiring only baptism; that’s all that matters. No problem.

But now Paul has heard that these churches have been visited by what seem to be hard-line Jewish Christians. These people are teaching that this isn’t enough; they seem to be saying, in effect, “All right, you gentile believers are welcome to join us in Christ, but Christ is the Messiah of the Jews – so in order to do so you must first become Jews yourselves”.

What horrifies Paul is that many of these converts are accepting this teaching and submitting to it. He just can’t grasp how they can do that: You were enslaved to your pagan idols; then you were set free when you came to faith in Jesus; and now you are allowing yourselves to be enslaved again! – only this time to the slavery of the Old Testament law. “You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you…?” (Galatians 3:1).

He is so angry and alarmed that he indulges in quite startling language. Referring to these false teachers as “agitators”, he says, in effect, “If these people are so keen on circumcision, let them go the whole way and castrate themselves” (Galatians 5:12). This is no dry theological debate! Paul’s anger is white-hot.

So let’s go back to where we started: What caused so many of these Galatian Christians to “turn back”? The answer, in a word, is: False teaching.

The same is a danger to us, so we’ll come back next time to explore it a little more, and also to pose my second question: Never mind the history lesson; what things might tempt us to “turn back” today?

Please join me.

Father, as I look back on my life I know there have been times I have been tempted to turn back from Jesus – indeed, times I have actually done so. Please forgive me and breathe your strength into me, so that never again will I fail him. Amen.