The Bible - magic book or divinely inspired?

All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. 2 Timothy 3:16-17

Something rather different today. When publishing a post I generally try to keep it to about 800 words. But today I have broken my own rule, for reasons I will explain later. I flag this up at the start, so that if you feel a couple of thousand words is more than you want to bother with you are warned in advance and can click off. I hope you won’t, of course. But I just wanted to be fair!

So… here we go.

The story of how James and John, the sons of Zebedee, asked Jesus for the places of honour in his final kingdom prompted various thoughts in my last two blogs. Especially, it reminds us of the sheer humanness of Jesus, that though he was the Son of God both his physical powers and his spiritual authority were limited: “such a thing is not for me to grant”, he said of their request. It reminds us that Jesus is fully human as well as fully divine.

And the story certainly reminds us of the humanness of the disciples! It seems they could be sinfully ambitious; they had their rivalries and jealousies; no doubt there were personality clashes from time to time. Which I found encouraging, as I thought of the many imperfections of myself and my fellow church members! God in his grace chose to use those imperfect men, so why not us too…?

But one thing there wasn’t space to comment on was what some people would call a contradiction between Mark’s account in Mark 10: 35-45 and Matthew’s in Matthew 20:20-28. Mark tells us that it was James and John themselves who approached Jesus directly with their request; but Matthew says it was their mother on their behalf (while they, presumably, stood by, perhaps looking a touch embarrassed).

Need this bother us? There are Christians who are so schooled in the belief that the Bible is the inspired word of God that they do find such “discrepancies” or “inconsistencies” troubling. In my own younger days in the Christian life I was one such - I used to turn quite eagerly to books (which seemed to be published at regular intervals) with titles like “Explaining Bible difficulties” or “How to reconcile Bible differences”.

“Ah!”, I would think, “this book, written by a real Bible scholar, will put me straight on this matter”. But that never seemed to happen; such books invariably disappointed. True, they could often be helpful in other ways; but the fact is that some of the explanations seemed pretty feeble, and some required unconvincing mental contortions. It took me quite a time to reach the point of saying to myself, “Perhaps this is the way the Bible is meant to strike us! Perhaps God expects us to live with unresolved questions; so we might as well get used to it, and relax”.

Putting aside for a moment the James/John story, this question raises many issues about the Bible, about in what sense it is inspired by the Holy Spirit, and about how we should read it. And this is such an important question that I felt it was worth digging into in greater than normal length.

I think there are at least three main principles we always need to approach the Bible with.

First, we need to recognise that while the Bible is divinely inspired it is also humanly written. That doesn’t mean it contains errors or mistakes, but it does mean that it bears the hall-marks of its human authorship. I think we can draw a parallel between Jesus as the living Word of God and scripture as the written Word of God.

Imagine that you could time-travel back to the days of Jesus. You walk down a road near Jerusalem and you see a group of men sitting in the shade by the roadside. Somebody tells you, “Oh, that’s Jesus of Nazareth, the latest prophet, taking a break with his disciples”. Really! You look again with a special interest, for obvious reasons. At first you can’t decide which one is Jesus; they’re all just sitting together chatting.

What do they look like? They’re wearing - well, whatever men of their ages and social standing at that time and place generally wore: light tunics, sandals, perhaps a home-spun robe thrown over the shoulder. Some are bald, some are bearded, some tall, some short. Perhaps one  walks with a limp; another squints as if his eyes aren’t too good.

If you hadn’t been told who they were you wouldn’t have given them a second look. Just ordinary men, perhaps some of them looking a touch scruffy. I wonder if Jesus had some sort of facial blemish, like a wart or a mole (if indeed we are right to think of warts or moles as being “blemishes”). The church has traditionally applied Isaiah 53:2 to the coming Messiah – “he had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him” – so why not?

Such was Jesus, the living Word of God.

And it’s the same with the Bible, the written Word of God. A collection of books gathered together over several centuries, the Bible is of its own place and time. It belongs to the first century AD and before; and it contains many passages, in both the Old Testament and the New, which leave us puzzled. This puzzlement may be due to things which are completely outside our sphere of experience, like worship customs in ancient Israel; or events which feel disturbingly alien to the spirit of Jesus, like the wholesale slaughter of defeated enemies in the time of the kings; or just details of historic events – dates, statistics, locations - which don’t seem to tally with one another.

But – and this is the point – such difficulties are exactly what we ought to expect from a collection of ancient documents. The Bible is an inspired book; but it isn’t a magic book! In the ancient world there was not the same attention to detail that we would expect from modern historians who have to make sure that every i is dotted and every t crossed.

Just as Jesus, the living Word, had his human “blemishes” and weaknesses, so too does the Bible, the written Word.

Tuning back to the New Testament, have you ever noticed, for example, that the order of Jesus’ three temptations (recorded by Matthew and Luke only) differs according to which gospel you happen to be reading? Matthew 4 gives them in the order 1, 2, 3; Luke 4 gives them in the order 1, 3, 2. Those books I mentioned which claim to “explain Bible differences” can do a fairly straightforward job of explaining this discrepancy – if that’s what it is - but the “ordinary Christian” may find it a little disconcerting when they first notice it.

Another example: all four Gospels record the events of Resurrection morning, when Jesus rose from the dead (though Mark’s account is strangely brief - why does the risen Jesus never appear? and how odd that the last word of his book is that the women “were afraid”!). But have you ever tried to harmonise all the details of the four accounts – the part played by the angels, the comings and goings of the various women, the men who dashed to the tomb (everybody running, running, running!), the encounter between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, and so on. Oh, it can be done, don’t worry about that! But let no-one pretend it’s easy!

The key point that emerges from all this is simple: the Bible is to be accepted on its own terms, as we find it. It is not for us to try to tidy it up when it seems to leave loose ends or fails to satisfy our curiosity on every point. Our business is to read it as it stands, and to read out of it the truth that God has placed there; it is not our business to read into it what we feel should be there, or what we want to find there. And if there are things we can’t understand, or things we really don’t like very much (as there will be), well, so be it. Just grasp the basic message! - about which there need be no doubt or disagreement.

Second, we need to recognise that the Bible contains a variety of types of literature, and we need to read it according to those types.

Read the Song of Songs as if it’s no different from the Gospel of John, and you’ll end up in confusion. The Gospel of John is in essence a story, with a beginning, a middle and an end; the Song of Songs seems to be a collection of poems, some of them of quite an erotic nature. Leviticus is essentially a collection of laws, most of which relate to worship practices in ancient Israel which, while they certainly point forward to Jesus, have little to say to us today of practical application.

Some Christians are so determined to find Jesus in every verse of the Bible that they twist its natural meaning into something altogether different. I was chatting with a friend once about Psalm 1, which I have always taken to be a beautiful little pen-picture of the godly man or woman: “Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked…” Just that, pure and simple. “Yes”, my friend agreed, “but of course it’s really about Jesus”. For a moment I was stumped: really about Jesus? No! How did he make that out! - that isn’t by any means the natural meaning! Certainly, it applies to Jesus, the sinless Son of God, above all others. But to say that it’s really about him is simply mistaken: it imposes on a simple, straightforward, ancient text an interpretation which is alien to its natural meaning.

The Book of Revelation is a report of a sequence of visions seen by a Christian imprisoned for his faith; it features all sorts of strange characters – angels, beasts, dragons - which obviously represent spiritual realities. But it is certainly not to be interpreted as a literal writing of history-in-the-future. Such fantastic readings have given rise to all sorts of weird and not very wonderful theories.

That word “literal” leads to another vital principle…

Third, we need to recognise that the Bible teems with poetic, metaphorical, non-literal figures of speech. And why wouldn’t it, like, as far as I know, every language spoken on the face of the earth?

I remember as a child at school learning a poem which contained the line, “the moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas”. It certainly interested me; it stirred my imagination; but it also puzzled me: how could the moon be a ship (ghostly or otherwise), and how could it be tossed about on waves (cloudy or otherwise)? But once I had grasped the fact that poetry often takes everyday things and events and makes them fresh and vivid by using non-literal language my problem disappeared. Of course! - suddenly I could see that threatening, stormy sky in a whole new way. To take that line of poetry literally would be to make it (quite literally) non-sense.

Much of the Bible, especially the psalms and the prophets, is poetry. One of the great advantages of modern translations is that they appear on the pages as such, following the lines of the Hebrew verse. Try to force them into a strictly literal meaning and you end up with nonsense.

In Job 3, for example, Job is described as “cursing the day of his birth”. Well, how absurd is that! How can a day long disappeared into the mists of time be cursed! And absurdity is piled on absurdity. Job wishes that day – a day probably fifty years gone by, bear in mind – to “perish”, (verse 3), to “turn to darkness”; he wants God “not to care about it” (verse 4); he even seems to imagine a group of people whose business in life is “to curse days” (verse 8) and he looks to them to support him in his cursing. Crazy!

Yet we know instinctively what Job 3 is about: it’s an elderly man who is almost out of his mind with misery and pain screaming at the world that he wishes he had never been born. And the absurdly exaggerated language conveys the sheer intensity of his wretchedness. Certainly Job 3:1 could have read simply “Job opened his mouth and said ‘I wish I had never been born’” and we could then go straight on to chapter 4. But how much we would have missed about the extremes of human suffering! Such is the divine inspiration of God’s word.

What sort of book is Job anyway? A straight historical account of an ancient figure? It certainly doesn’t read that way. It reads more like an ancient legend put into poetic form - indeed, with its little cast of characters, Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar and Elihu - almost like a play. The historic Job has been lost in the mists of time; we know next to nothing about him. But, boy, how much we can learn by sharing in his suffering!

The Book of Job is an extreme example of non-literal language, and a book which raises all sorts of vital questions. But to read it as, say, a source of doctrinal truth would be like reading a car maintenance manual as if it were a novel! – what, for example, is Satan doing in heaven in chapter one? Where is “the land of Uz”? Why does the prophet Ezekiel twice link Job with Noah and Daniel (Ezekiel 14), two men widely divided in time? We can only speculate.

The Bible contains history, poetry, prophecy, teaching, stories, and a whole lot more beside. To make proper sense of it we need to learn what sort of literature we are dealing with. That can be tricky, and opinions will differ; but we shouldn’t let that trouble us. What stands out crystal-clear is the essential message of Jesus as our Saviour, Lord, King – and Friend.

Enough! If you have stayed with me this far, thank you. But I’m afraid I may have tested your patience, so, though there is much more that could be said on such a vast subject, it’s time to stop.

And going back to where we started, if we’re still fretting about “was it James and John themselves, or was it their mother?”, then I’m afraid we’re wasting valuable time. What matters is (a) that that request was made, and (b) that Jesus used it as a launch pad for some vital teaching about his mysterious divine/human person and about the nature of leadership in his body, the church.

For the rest… why not just relax and let God make it plain as and when he sees fit?

Father, thank you that you have given to us the Lord Jesus Christ as your living Word, and also the scriptures as your written Word. Help us to live this earthly life daily in simple faith and humble obedience to all that you have revealed to us by your Holy Spirit. Amen.

A misguided zeal (2)

Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask”…

When the ten heard about this, they became indignant with James and John. Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Mark 10:35, 41-45

James and John (or their mother, if we follow Matthew’s alternative account) did what seems a truly outrageous thing: they approached Jesus and told him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask”. Jesus replied that they didn’t have any idea what they were asking; and that anyway such a thing “is not for me to grant”.

Focussing on this story last time, three lessons stood out for me. First, stating the obvious, it is wrong to seek glory for ourselves; be happy to be a nobody if that is God’s will. Second, to do so is a waste of time anyway, because all earthly glory fades and dies. Third, and more positively, the only place in life to be at peace is firmly in the centre of God’s will, so be content with his decisions for you.

But the episode didn’t end there. Jesus took the opportunity to teach these self-centred brothers that even to follow his will for them (to “drink the cup” he drank and to “be baptised” with his baptism) might take a very different form from what they expected. So, Christian, expect the unexpected!

Mark now has still more to add. When their fellow-disciples heard what James and John had done “they became indignant” – which is probably putting it pretty mildly. “Huh! Who do they think they are!” might capture their mood best. So Jesus calms the storm among his disciples by giving them a talk about leadership - being a leader according to the way of this world is a very different matter from being a leader in his coming kingdom. As far as he is concerned, to lead is to serve; so they had better get used to that idea!

Taking this incident as a whole, there are other insights we can gain that we might easily overlook.

First, an insight into Jesus’ humanness.

Last time I rather glossed over his comment that certain things “are not for me to grant”. It’s worth pausing on that for a moment, for I think that we can be guilty of emphasising his divinity to the neglect of his humanity. Here’s an example…

I heard a preacher once tell his congregation that Jesus would have known all 150 psalms by memory “because of who he was”. This idea was new to me, and I took a moment to digest it. I ended up concluding that it was very mistaken. The preacher, a truly fine Christian, was, I think, so keen to honour Jesus as the divine Son of God that he was in danger of turning him into a kind of spiritual superman; perhaps he hadn’t grasped the truth that Jesus was fully human as well as fully divine. It’s no accident that one of his favourite titles for himself was “Son of Man” (verse 45).

In the James/John episode Jesus specifically stated that his authority was limited - some things are “not for me to grant”. Likewise, when the disciples asked him the time of his return in glory he plainly stated that “about that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matthew 24:36).

There is no reason to think anything other than that Jesus was a normal Jewish boy who learned like any other such boy in the local synagogue school; indeed, Luke 2:40-52 pretty much tells us so. And, of course, we know that he experienced every kind of human suffering: he sat at the well in Samaria, “tired as he was” (John 4:6); he was puzzled by a sudden loss of energy (Mark 5:24-34); he felt the need of human companionship and knew terrible loneliness in Gethsemane (Matthew 26:36-46). Not to mention, of course, the abandonment he felt on the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Christian, honour Jesus Christ, Son of God and Saviour of the world, of course, But delight too in his shared humanity with you! He knows your aches and pains, your griefs and sorrows.

Second, the James/John episode give us a rare insight into the humanness of Jesus’ first followers.

We rarely give much thought to the original twelve. I must confess that, with the exception of Simon Peter (the “big fisherman”, all impulse and enthusiasm) and, of course, Judas Iscariot, my mental picture of them is hazy, to say the least.

We know that the father of James and John was called Zebedee, a fisherman, but no sooner is he named than he disappears from sight. Their mother, presumably Zebedee’s wife, is not even named in Matthew’s account of this story.

We know that Simon Peter was married, for Jesus was called upon to heal his mother-in-law (Mark 1:29-31). But we are not told his wife’s name (and we may find ourselves wondering how Peter got on with his mother-in-law). Indeed, we know next to nothing of the apostles’ family circumstances – did they have wives, parents, children who perhaps involved themselves in the work of the gospel?

What was life like among the twelve as they travelled with Jesus? How, for example, did Levi (or should that be Matthew?) the tax collector get on with Simon the Zealot? – surely a case of chalk and cheese. We know too that Thomas “doubted” (John 20:24-29). But there’s not a lot more.

But this story of James and John does tell us one thing more: the original disciples quarreled; they had their rivalries and jealousies.

In a strange sort of way that makes me feel better as I look at the very “damaged goods” that constitute the membership of our churches. Not, of course, that we should excuse differences and falling-outs; no, we are called to be holy and united.

But… well, isn’t it wonderful what God can do with such imperfect human material! This rather raggedy bunch ended up totally transforming the world and changing history!

Christian, take heart as you look at your imperfect church – and, of course, your imperfect self… There’s no knowing what God might do through you!

Father, thank you that you sent your Son Jesus not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for us. Please give me the same kind of humility and self-effacement – and so may all the glory go to him. Amen.

A misguided zeal

Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked. They replied, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.” “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said…

Mark 10:35-38

God exalted Jesus to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2:9-11

How interesting that the Gospels – two of them, anyway – should include this little episode, for it reflects rather badly on two of the leading apostles, the brothers James and John, sons of Zebedee.

They come to Jesus and ask, bold as brass, that they might be given the seats of honour when he enters his “glory”. I find myself thinking, “How could they possibly know him so well, love him so much, and trust him so completely – and yet obviously understand him so little!” All credit to them, of course, that they had that implicit faith that he was headed for glory, but such a gross, self-centred request surely is rather hard to understand.

I can think of three ways in which we might make excuses for them.

First, we might ask (indeed should ask) “But am I actually any better?” Here we are, two thousand years on, yet there is a sense in which we know Jesus even better than they did – we, after all, have the whole New Testament to teach us, with all four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, plus a rich variety of letters and Revelation. Yet can we not also be guilty of spectacularly missing the point?

Second, we might ask “Is it in fact correct to think that thy knew him so well”? The Gospels make it clear that Jesus’ earthly ministry lasted only some three years, and even assuming that this episode took place towards the end of that period, and even granted that their relationship with him was very intense, the fact is that three years isn’t that long and, given that they had had just a standing start in those early days by the Sea of Galilee, well, they really did have a great deal to learn.

And third, we might turn to Matthew 20:20-28, where the same story is told – but with one very striking difference: it wasn’t James and John at all who made the request, but their mother on their behalf!

We sometimes make jokes about pushy mothers who insist on demanding what they see as only the best for their offspring; and, according to Matthew’s account, Mrs Zebedee seems to have been of that sort. To be fair to them, did James and John stand by in some embarrassment as she went into battle on their behalf?

Well, whatever. But of course what matters is, what lessons should we learn from this incident?

The main one is obvious: to seek glory for ourselves is wrong.

We all like to be appreciated by others, to be “successful” or important, whatever that word may mean in the context of our particular lives. And yes, given that God has given each of us different gifts and talents, it’s not wrong to want to fulfil our potential as far as possible. But often, if we honestly search our hearts, we know that there is a nasty little sliver of sheer vanity, of self-centred status-seeking, nestling there. Who has never been guilty of jealousy over somebody who has gained more “success” than we have?

It can only do us good to reflect on the simple but profound words of John the Baptist as he looked at Jesus, the “lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”: “He must become greater; I must become less” (John 3:30). I wonder if the sons of Zebedee were there when those great words were first spoken? Had they just forgotten them by the time of our story?

How easily we forget great truths – or, perhaps, deliberately and sinfully allow them to slip from our minds in any given situation. We may piously say that all the glory must go to God; but do we really mean it?

A second lesson is that to seek glory for ourselves is not only wrong but a waste of time and energy anyway. Glory fades. Yesterday’s super-star becomes today’s has-been. Idols, of whatever kind, are bound to fall (read Percy Bysshe Shelley’s short but powerful poem “Ozymandias”!).

We live in a “celebrity culture” (horrible expression!), with a widespread mentality that needs to idolise the rich, famous and successful. Give credit where it’s due, yes, by all means. But to put people up on pedestals is sheer folly.

A third, more positive, lesson: to accept cheerfully the position God has in mind for us is the only sure way to be at peace.

Jesus tells James and John that God alone has the authority to put people in their rightful place – “to sit at my right hand or left is not for me to grant…”, he frankly states (verse 40). And many of us will be able to testify that at times in our lives when we have stepped outside God’s will – though temptation, through weakness, through foolishness, through outright disobedience – we have forfeited peace. We have learned the hard way that, ultimately, the only safe place to be is in – well, God’s place for us. So why hanker after anything else?

I mentioned earlier the example of dear, faithful John the Baptist. But of course we can go even better than that. We read in Philippians 2:1-11 that Jesus himself “made himself nothing” (literally “emptied himself”). He “took the very nature of a servant” – yes, he even washed the disciples’ feet. Total, self-effacing humility. And what is to become of him? “At the name of Jesus every knee shall bow…” By rejecting glory he comes to glory!

Christian, meditate on that, and cling to that alone!

Father, it is not for us to find fault with other Christians, whether ancient apostles or contemporary believers; we ourselves are only too prone to foolish false ideas and ambitions. Please teach us to be content to be nothing, that Jesus may have all the glory, and so to find peace in simply doing your will. Amen.

The secrets of the heart

 

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

Even in laughter the heart may ache, and rejoicing may end in grief. Proverbs 14: 13

It’s a strange book, Proverbs.

Much of it seems like a pretty random collection of one-off sayings, many of which could have been spoken by a non-Jew or a non-Christian: just down-to-earth commonsense, even platitudes or cliches. Quite a lot about wisdom, but very little explicitly about God. There are verses that invite the response, “OK – but so what?”. Others that prompt the question, “Is that really true!”, and others that leave us wondering “How are we supposed to apply that in today’s world!”.

If there is an overarching theme that binds the book together, it must be wisdom. And its main purpose, for me anyway, is simple enough: to make us stop and think – something, I fear, that we do all too rarely.

I’ve picked out two little verses from chapter 14, which have in common the thought that every human being’s heart is a private place, known only to the person in question.

Verse 10: Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no-one else can share its joy.

My immediate reaction is the question: Is that in fact true? The first part, well, yes. But the second part? It implies that our inmost hearts are so deeply buried within us that we cannot share even the good things with anyone else.

But surely we both can and do. We delight to share our joys: think of a wedding day or the birth of a new child, or even just the success of a football team. And as for the bitternesses; we have a saying in English that “a problem shared is a problem halved”, and haven’t all of us experienced the relief of unburdening our hearts to a trusted friend? Oh, what a difference that can make!

The truth of the verse lies, perhaps, in the fact that, while we live in communities and families, ultimately we are individuals, and as individuals we were made by God and are answerable to God. To put it most sharply, Paul tells us that “we must all stand before God’s judgment seat” (Romans 14:10) - and when that day comes we stand alone.

Verse 13: Even in laughter the heart may ache, and rejoicing may end in grief.

Well, sadly, there can be no arguing with that! How much laughter is hollow, forced, perhaps dependent on alcohol or other artificial stimulants? The figure of the broken-hearted clown is known in many cultures, with his grotesque, painted smile that bears no resemblance to the reality within. Many of us may have known hearty life-and-soul-of-the-party types who, tragically, reach a point where they feel they must end their own lives. Or weekend revellers “out for a good time” who end up in the depths of misery, perhaps literally in the gutter.

Even without going to such extremes, we all know that “all good things come to an end”, and we are wise if we face up realistically to that truth.

I read these verses and find myself wondering how to apply them to my everyday life. What difference might they make to the kind of person I am? How might they make me a better person?

Perhaps first and foremost, they challenge me to be compassionate. Think the best, not the worst, of others’ failings and peculiarities.

Every time I meet a fellow human being I am meeting a miraculous bundle of body, mind and spirit who is totally unique throughout the history of the universe. Putting it another way, there is no such thing on the face of this planet as “just an ordinary person”. We are made by God, each of us, and loved by God, each of us – yes, including the smallest, the most feeble, insignificant, unimportant and easily neglected person.

We simply cannot know a millionth part of what has gone on in another person’s life – what sadnesses, failures, disappointments, hurts – or what is going on right now in that mysterious space between their ears.

And this means that it is right to stretch ourselves as far as we can in “making allowances” – after all, God alone knows the individual’s heart, and ultimately we can – indeed must – leave any judging to him. Haven’t we all sometimes looked at another person, shaken our heads and then thought “That could be me…”? Haven’t we all at times been profoundly grateful for those who have made allowances for us?

The fact is that every other person is someone who can be both a blessing to me and to whom I can be a blessing.

I was stopped in the street the other day by a total stranger walking his dog; he wanted me to know about a heron he had seen sitting on somebody’s roof (this in a city suburb). He was bursting with the sheer pleasure of it, and just wanted me, a total “anybody”, to know about it. I walked on, feeling a real lifting of my heart. I was reminded just how easy it can  be to bring pleasure to another person if we only keep our wits about us. Thank you, Mr Dog-Walker Stranger!

I said something wrong earlier, or, rather, left unsaid something vitally important, so I must put it right before I finish.

I said that when we stand before God on the judgment day, we stand alone: that’s the implication of Proverbs 14:10 and 13. But of course the writer of Proverbs, Solomon or whoever, didn’t know about Jesus. And we do, and that makes all the difference.

The same Paul who warned us about the judgment day also tells us that “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). If that isn’t good news, I don’t know what is! Our condemnation has been taken by him.

So I like to imagine that when that day comes for me and I stand stripped bare before our holy God, Jesus will be there - with his arm around my shoulder.

Do you too have that hope?

Father, please help me to see every person that I meet with the compassionate eyes of Jesus. Amen.

A Brand plucked from the burning?

When Saul came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple. But Barnabas took him… Acts 9:26-27

Until a few years ago I had barely heard of Russell Brand. I knew his name vaguely as some sort of television personality - and that his reputation was not particularly savoury. But I was in no position to judge – nor, of course, would it have been right to do so anyway.

Now it’s in the headlines that he has become a Christian; in fact, that he has had himself baptised in the River Thames (why, oh why, the Thames!). It seems that somebody advised him to “turn to Jesus, not to religion”, which surely was good advice. And he is quoted in the paper as saying: “for the first time in my life I realise I’m not the centre of my universe”, which sounds humble and sincere.

But there are other details about his story which are, perhaps, a little troubling: he apparently uses tarot cards to foretell his future; he has dipped into a variety of Christian groups, from praying the rosary Roman Catholic style to attending Alpha courses Anglican style to involvement with various charismatic groupings. Interesting!

I can imagine grave heads being shaken in various circles, in suspicion if not in downright disapproval. He is quoted as saying that he is “just learning”, which again sounds properly humble and sensible; but which also begs the question “Good! Learning is vital! But who exactly is doing the teaching?” Who did the baptising? Conversions rarely happen to people in total solitude, so it’s only natural to wonder what friends and influencers are around him (though, of course, he would be entitled to tell us to mind our own business).

Do you tend to be pretty cynical when you hear a story like this? “Huh, we’ll soon see how long that lasts! Just attention-seeking! Just jumping on a band-wagon!”? Or do you launch into a shout of praise? “Praise the Lord! Truly, a Brand plucked from the burning!”?

Either of those responses would be mistaken: we should be neither cynically dismissive nor naively gullible.

Remember Saul of Tarsus.

We read in Acts 7:58 that when Stephen was stoned to death by a mob of outraged members of the Jewish Sanhedrin, the people who did it “laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul”. In 8:1 we read that “Saul approved of their killing him”, in 8:3 that he “began to destroy the church”, and in 9:1 that, just a little later, he was “still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples”.

This was no minor opposition! So the words I have quoted above, from Acts 9:26-7, while terribly sad (“he tried to join the disciples” – can you picture that scene?), should perhaps not surprise or even shock us too much. Those Christians who felt it necessary to reject Saul were themselves still quite new believers and, humanly speaking, were justified in suspecting what he was up to. Remember - they knew nothing of what is now ancient history to us; nothing of “the apostle Paul”! Would they be next on the hit-list?

Imagine a couple of Christians running into one another on the streets of Jerusalem… “Have you heard – that dreadful man Saul is claiming to follow Jesus! He wants to join the church!” “No! I don’t believe it – he’ll soon be showing his true colours…! Just you wait and see…”

The fact is that, had it not been for the lovely man Barnabas, who made the wonderful, courageous decision to take Saul under his wing, Saul might very well have been lost to the church… (All right, you will say that God had it all in hand, and would have found a way to work out his plan; but you get the point.)

Every now and then we get news of “celebrities”, notorious or not, claiming to be converted. And sometimes, yes, it turns out, sadly, not to last. But then not every “ordinary” convert stands the test of time either, do they?

I remember when the prominent political figure Jonathan Aitken ended up in prison for lying in a court of law, his life and career shattered. He subsequently claimed to have become a Christian, was ordained as an Anglican clergyman, and now serves as a prison chaplain. There has been much cynicism. But he has by now “stood the test of time”  - at least as much as many of the rest of us have.

What becomes of Russell Brand only time will tell. In the meantime your business and mine is to follow the story with love and prayers (and perhaps a pinch of salt), but not with either cynicism nor gullibility. He needs good friends, good teaching, true nurture and encouragement with all that that may involve – and, I would add, plenty of peace and quiet in which to find and establish his new self.

Whatever happens, may it never be said that any of us failed to give him the support of our prayers.

Dear Father in heaven, help me, I pray, to grow in my heart a blend of wise discernment, healthy scepticism and practical helpfulness in the matter of supporting new converts. Especially today, may your gracious hand rest upon Russell Brand and all those who are his friends and advisers. May your Holy Spirit transform him and ultimately bring him to glory. Amen.