A perfect church?

But I think it is necessary to send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, co-worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs. ²⁶ For he longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill. ²⁷ Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow. ²⁸ Therefore I am all the more eager to send him, so that when you see him again you may be glad and I may have less anxiety. ²⁹ So then, welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honour people like him, ³⁰ because he almost died for the work of Christ. He risked his life to make up for the help you yourselves could not give me. Philippians 2:25-30

Do you ever think how good it must have been to be part of the early, New Testament church? The buzz! The excitement! The sense of being a wonderful new family, filled with love for Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit! The vibrant preaching! The dramatic answers to prayer! How dull – what a struggle – life in today’s church can seem by comparison.

All right, perhaps the church you belong to isn’t dull or a struggle at all; but for many it is. So it’s tempting to read the New Testament and feel a little wistful: “If only…!”

If ever we do feel this way, it’s time to pause and take what, in modern parlance, is called a reality check. The fact is that the early church was in many respects pretty much like many modern churches, both for good and for ill (just read, for example, the “seven letters to the churches” in Revelation 2-3). This is nowhere better illustrated than in Paul’s glowing little letter to the Christians of Philippi, written while he was in prison for Jesus’ sake.

Philippians oozes faith and love – it obviously warmed Paul’s heart just to think about the church there. We can read about what brought it into being by turning to Acts 16. But it didn’t have an easy birth; it started with Paul and his travelling companion Silas dumped in the local prison with their feet in the stocks. And now, probably some six or seven years later, Paul finds himself in prison again, very likely in Ephesus.

He has a particular reason for writing to them: to thank them for helping to “take care of my needs” (2:25) and to “share in my troubles” (Philippians 4:14) by sending him a gift, presumably of money. How did this gift reach him? – through the willing, sacrificial generosity of a man called Epaphroditus, about whom we know absolutely nothing beyond what Paul tells us in this letter. But Epaphroditus is a perfect illustration of both the joys and sorrows of those early churches. We can get to know him a little by asking a few questions…

First, what kind of man was he?

Answer: Paul describes him as “my brother, co-worker and fellow-soldier” (2:25). There’s no way of knowing how well Paul knew him personally, but that description is high praise indeed; he was no nodding acquaintance. Paul knew him well enough to value him highly.

I hope we all have people in our lives like Epaphroditus – people we can rely on and share our joys and sorrows with; solid, reliable people. My experience suggests to me that even small and struggling churches have at least a handful of such people (and they may, of course, be female as well as male). If we read through Paul’s life in Acts, plus also his letters, we find that his life was well populated with such people; Epaphroditus was by no means the only one.

That, of course, prompts another challenging question: do my fellow-Christians see me as an Epaphroditus?

Second, why in particular is Paul grateful to God for Epaphroditus?

Answer: as we saw a moment ago, he is the person who has served as the Philippian Christians’ courier to carry their gift to Paul in prison (4:18 again), where the gift is described as “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God”. That puts a different light on “brother, co-worker and fellow-soldier” – Epaphroditus, no doubt precisely because of his rock-solid reliability, was the messenger-boy, the man the church in Philippi entrusted this heavy responsibility to.

In our modern world I don’t suppose prison food is anything very special. But in the days of the Roman empire it was probably completely non-existent; prisoners would have had to rely on well-wishers from outside. And this is the role Epaphroditus took on.

A glance at a map indicates that the distance from Philippi to Ephesus (assuming that that is indeed where Paul was during this imprisonment) is some three hundred miles as the crow flies. It could be done by either land or sea or a combination of the two; but whatever, it would have been an arduous and demanding journey, no easy matter for a man who no doubt had other duties to attend to, not to mention perhaps a family at home. “Brothers” and “sisters” like that are, surely, precious as gold!

Third, what in particular happened to Epaphroditus that caused anxiety to Paul?

Answer: he got sick “and almost died”. If we re-read the whole of 2:25-30 we find that for a time Paul was seriously anxious on his behalf, and apparently the members of the Philippi church were likewise very upset when the news reached them.

I can’t help smiling when we read that he, Epaphroditus, was “distressed” because he had heard that his fellow-church members were anxious about him. Isn’t that so typically human - and common, surely, to every age and generation? – he was distressed because they were distressed on his behalf.

I’m sure they were confident of Christianity’s eternal hope. But neither Paul nor the Philippian church were starry-eyed about “going to heaven” – they well knew the pain and sorrow of death, and weren’t ashamed to express it. (It’s worth reflecting that the same Paul who wrote 1:21 could also write 2:27.)

Well, Epaphroditus did eventually recover, and no doubt everyone breathed a big sigh of relief. It seems that those early churches weren’t so very different from ours after all! Perhaps this can prompt us to pray…

Loving Father, thank you for all the various Epaphrodituses who have blessed my life over the years. I find it hard to imagine how I would have got on without them. Please help me, in my turn, to be an Epaphroditus to others. Amen.

The parable of the green tree

As the soldiers led Jesus away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ Then “they will say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’ For if people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?” Luke 23:26-31

I wonder how often we have read these grim words from Luke’s Gospel – words of Jesus – and wondered exactly what he meant by that final question? What’s this about trees?

The context (as always) is important. Jesus is being led away to crucifixion and large crowds are lining the route, including many women, weeping and wailing. Jesus rebukes them (though with compassion): “It’s not me you should we weeping for; it’s yourselves and your children. The days ahead are days when it would be better never to have had children…”

Then he quotes from the Old Testament prophet Hosea (chapter 10, verse 8). Hosea lived at a time when God’s people Israel had lapsed into idolatry and so, in effect, had invited God’s wrath to fall on them. Those days will be so horrific that people will plead for the very mountains to fall on them; it will be better to die than to live.

So far, so clear. But then Jesus adds another saying which is not a quote from the Old Testament: “If people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

Not a quote from the Old Testament? Certainly, there seems to be an echo of Ezekiel 20:45-48. But more likely it is a proverbial saying that has been passed down the generations. Various interpretations have been suggested, but the simplest and most natural seems best: “If this is how the brutal Romans are prepared to treat one innocent man, how much worse will it be in the days to come? The killing of one man, wicked though it is, is nothing compared with the ruining of a whole city, including its beautiful temple. Green wood – and that’s what we are at the moment - doesn’t burn well, but once it has dried it goes up in flames in no time at all.”

In a nutshell, Jesus’ cryptic saying seems simply to be the equivalent of the modern catchphrase “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” – but in a bad rather than a good sense.

Two thoughts occur to me…

First, his words remind us that he never promised that the outworking of God’s purposes would be easy: anything but. The kingdom of God has broken in, and we are all invited to be part of it, but as we enlist, so to speak, we must be under no illusions. His call involves “taking up your cross to follow me” (Matthew 16:24), and those were no empty words; he made it clear that when we make that great decision we must “count the cost” (Matthew 15:25-33).

How easy it is to make promises of those kinds in the first flush of zeal, especially if we came to Christ when still young, when many youthful enthusiasms – sporting, political, career-wise, hobby-wise, religious – are born! Experience teaches many things, and easily takes its toll. And so it is with the fire of faith: it can very easily begin to burn low – no wonder Paul urges the Christians of Thessalonica (1 Thessalonians 5:19) not to “quench (that is, stub out) the Spirit”.

I wonder if this is a reality some of us need to face up to? Is it time to have a fresh “getting-to-grips-with-God-again” session? If so, a time of reflection on the disturbing letter of Jesus to the church in Laodicea (Revelation 3:14-22) might be in order. “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear…”!

Second, it’s worth reflecting that, if Jesus’ words about the green and dry tree are indeed a time-honoured proverbial saying – if that is so, it’s striking that he should be prepared to make them part of his own teaching. We are familiar with his many quotations from the Old Testament, the Hebrew scriptures, of course, for he saw himself as the fulfilment of those scriptures; but a reference like this somehow “earths” him as a man of his own time, and a man of a particular nation and race with its traditions and culture.

This has something to say to us about the Bible as a whole, the writings the Christian church has always honoured as the written word of God.

It emerged over many hundreds of years and was composed, humanly speaking, by a wide range of writers. This means that, to our eyes, it can seem a rambling, even messy, book. It doesn’t always yield its meaning to us easily, but requires study and, in many respects, the help of experts, linguists and historians as well as theologians. Why else do we expect trainee ministers to undergo serious study? Why else do we look to people who know more than we do to write books and give lectures? The Bible is an inspired book, yes – but it is not a magic book.

I find it reassuring that Jesus was prepared to take a piece of home-spun everyday wisdom from the world around him and weave it into his own teaching side by side with a chunk of sacred Old Testament scripture. It helps me to see not only Jesus but also the Bible itself with fresh eyes – inspired by the Holy Spirit, yes, but also a very human, earthy book. There is much to be gained by recognising its human authorship as well as its divine inspiration. Something to think about?

Lord Jesus, we worship you as God in the flesh. Just as we see you as both divine and human, may we also see your written word, the Bible, as both written by human beings but also inspired by the Holy Spirit. Amen.

"Kept for best"?

Jesus said…You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16

I will also make you a light for the gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth. Isaiah 49:6

Then you will shine… like stars in the sky… Philippians 2:15

I spent the first twenty years of my ministry in a northern industrial town. They were good years, which I will always look back on with great fondness.

The people, like people everywhere, had their own little peculiarities. One was that, in many homes, the small “front room” was only rarely opened; it was “kept for best”, and everyday life was lived in the back. The front room was neat and tidy, perhaps with a bit of special cutlery and crockery on display. If something out of the ordinary was going on – a funeral tea, perhaps, or the Queen happened to pop in (though I don’t think that happened very often) – fair enough; but otherwise, oh dear no, that would never do.

To be fair, the people were quite happy to laugh at their own absurdity: “Yes, we know it’s silly, but…”

There are many areas of life which are rather ridiculous until it is pointed out to us. (I have to admit that I tend to be reluctant to wear new clothes for the first time because it seems a shame to spoil them.)

In these verses from Matthew 5 Jesus is rebuking his own people, the Jews, for their failure to make known to the whole of humankind the light which God had graciously bathed Israel in. “Is anybody so daft,” he asks, “as to light a candle and then put it under a bucket?” Of course not! And yet… they were failing to pass the test of Isaiah 49:6.

We might ask why anybody would do such a ridiculous thing? I suppose, in the time of Jesus, the main reason would be to prevent a draught blowing the candle out; after all, they didn’t have nicely warmed and insulated homes  back then, or even those sausagy things we can buy and put inside the door. So… if you want to keep your candle alight, just stick it under a bucket. Sorted.

Except for one thing: the very point of lighting a candle at all is in order to give light, so you end up gaining safety, sort of, at the expense of the very point of having a candle. And how ridiculous is that?

Jesus’ rebuke was, then, first and foremost a rebuke to his fellow-Jews, God’s chosen people Israel. Chosen by God, yes – but not in order simply to be themselves blessed, but to be a blessing to others. The whole broken, fallen world needed light, but God’s chosen light-carriers, the people of Israel had, so to speak, hugged it to themselves.

We Christians can be just as bad. Whether we’re thinking of the church as a whole, of individual congregations and other agencies, or of individual men and women, we too can very easily turn the light of Christ into our own personal possession. Oh yes, outsiders are welcome to come and join us if they decide they would like to, but it’s very much a case of “Join the club and become one of us” rather than “We have heard this wonderful good news and would like to share it with you”.

May I ask if you recognise yourself in this? And if you do, if you are aiming to do anything about it?

What is the “light” Jesus accuses us of hugging to ourselves? Not primarily teaching, important though that is; no, it’s much more basic than that: “that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (verse 16).

That doesn’t mean we should go around flaunting how kind, generous and loving we are. Jesus himself went to the trouble of ruling that out: “When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret…” (Matthew 6:3-4 – that’s just twenty or so verses further on from the parable of the covered candle). But what does this mean in practice? How can we be both “secret” in the way we go about our acts of kindness and at the same time make sure to let them be seen? Is Jesus contradicting himself?

It comes down to the question of motive. Jesus states explicitly that the purpose of doing good deeds is simply because they are – well, good deeds. And what does that lead to? – “that they may glorify your Father in heaven” (verse16).

Even the most Christlike person may have a little poisonous crumb of self motivating their kindest deeds; deep down, after all, we all like to be admired, don’t we? But that desire, however natural, needs to be well and truly squelched; for it is God alone to whom the glory belongs. It is better not to be noticed at all – to leave somebody wondering “Why did he/she act like that?” – than to have them thinking “What a wonderful man/woman!”

We may have a wish to avoid hiding our light under a bowl. That’s good, as it should be. But let’s face head-on the challenge: Am I truly wanting that other person to “glorify my Father in heaven”? – or to admire me?

O God our Father, this fallen, groaning world is full of darkness and in desperate need of your heavenly light. You have called me to be a bearer of that light as I have it in Christ. Help me, by your Holy Spirit, to make that my supreme aim and joy, and may all the glory go to you. Amen. 

The hothead and the sneak (2)

After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax-collector by the name of Levi sitting at his tax booth. “Follow me”, Jesus said to him, and Levi got up, left everything and followed him. Luke 5:27-28

When morning came, Jesus called his disciples to him and chose twelve of them, whom he also designated apostles: Simon (whom he named Peter), his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called the Zealot, Judas son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor. Luke 6:13-16

Last time we thought about the original twelve apostles of Jesus, and what “ordinary life” (if any such thing existed) might have been like for them. We focussed especially on Levi the tax collector and Simon the Zealot, who I described as “chalk and cheese” (perhaps unfairly I called them “a sneak and a hothead”), given their backgrounds before they followed Jesus, and wondered how they might have got on with one another.

I had in mind three lessons that can challenge us, but I got no further than the first: that conversion involves change. You can’t get much more basic than that. But here are the other two I didn’t have room for.

Second, following Jesus involves learning to love people we don’t like.

I speculated that at first Levi and Simon may have heartily detested one another, but that they both had to change if they wanted to be loyal to Jesus. We certainly see the signs of this in Levi: “he got up, left everything and followed Jesus” and then threw a big party to which he invited many of his tax collector friends. He made a big break from his previous life (he “left everything”) and clearly rejoiced in his new-found life (Luke 5:27-29). I’m sure we can assume a similar change in Simon, though the Gospels don’t tell us.

The point is clear: once you become a Christian you must accept that Jesus chooses your friends for you. Certainly, there may be no reason why you shouldn’t maintain your pre-Christian relationships, but by joining the church you find yourself pitchforked also into a whole new network of relationships – and some of them may be trying and frustrating.

The church is “the body of Christ” (1 Corinthians 12:27), and this where our main allegiance lies. But, let’s be realistic, it can be hard… somebody may be (in our opinion) a bit of a busybody, or have a jarring voice, or talk too much, or have opinions we find it hard to stomach, or just be a plain bore. But that doesn’t release us from the obligation to love one another, as Jesus taught us (John 15:12).

Christians, sadly, do sometimes fail to get on with one another. We know from Acts 15:36-41 that Barnabas and Paul – what closer friends could you imagine! - “went their separate ways”, and that “tempers flared” (according to The Message translation). And from Galatians 2, we know that Paul had a major falling out with Simon Peter (Cephas) over sharing meals with gentile Christians – that’s Simon Peter, the leader of the church, appointed by Jesus!

These rifts were later mended, but the very fact that they happened at all reminds us that relationships are fragile, delicate plants. (I remember once seeing a beautiful wall poster in a church: “Be patient with me… God hasn’t finished with me yet!” Amen to that!)

Is it time some of us set about the business of learning to love even people we don’t like? (Always remembering, of course, that perhaps we too sometimes get up other people’s noses…)

The third lesson: the church needs all sorts of people.

Given the pairs of brothers (James and John, and Simon Peter and Andrew), and given also the closeness of the Sea of Galilee with its involvement in the fishing trade, the original twelve were not as varied as we might expect (and, of course, given the culture of the time, they were all men). But that certainly changes when we get beyond Pentecost, Acts 2, and to the mission to both Jews and Gentiles. The Book of Acts, and various of the New Testament letters, make this clear. Many of the first Christians were slaves, many leading figures were women, and there were even some members of the Roman aristocracy.

By the way, it’s worth noticing too that while we saw that Simon the Zealot  and Levi the tax collector both changed radically, there is another sense in which they didn’t in fact change that much: very likely, Simon carried his same zealous and enthusiastic nature into his Christian life and became a passionate evangelist; and perhaps Levi too, with his aptitude for handling money, brought such gifts, cleansed and purified, into the service of the church: churches need treasurers and administrators!

We only have to look at Paul to see how new converts can both change and not change. He was not just a “hothead” but a real firebrand while still adhering to the Jewish law. But we get the impression he retained those characteristics after putting his faith in Jesus - though they were obviously completely re-directed.

It's a happy church that has a fine mix of people in its membership; it’s a dull church which is monochrome! Many churches in the western world are largely middle-class or middle-aged or older; the wide range of ages, backgrounds and interests doesn’t exist. If this is so, we might find that heaven comes as a bit of a shock to us!

Perhaps some of us need to ask the question: has my church become in effect a “comfort zone” for me, a gathering of brothers and sisters in Christ which makes me feel cosy, but which is a turn-off for various different kinds of people?

Remember the wonderful vision of Revelation 7:9-17! – and grant, Lord, that my local church will become nothing less than a foretaste of heaven.

Father, help me to absorb the fact that you love all types of people – rich and poor, educated and simple, funny and sombre, dull and full of life, and that you have a place for just them, not only the people who happen to be like me. Help me to glory in the great mix which is your church. Amen.