tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83591305185513023222024-03-26T08:49:36.519+00:00Welcome to SedgonlineColin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.comBlogger920125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-79757898778518230202024-03-26T08:48:00.001+00:002024-03-26T08:48:36.032+00:00They crucified him<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They crucified him. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mark
15:24</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Next Friday is Good Friday. If ever there was a day for us
as Christians to gather with our fellow-believers, this surely is it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People instinctively come together at a time of grief, even
if the person who has died did so peacefully and in hearty old age. How much
more then when the death is especially tragic or unexpected. There is comfort
in such a coming together, though words are hard to find and seem to achieve
little or nothing. We all make a point of attending a friend’s funeral if at
all possible, don’t we? It seems unthinkable not to make the effort to be
there.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When Judas Iscariot and the soldiers arrested Jesus in the
Garden of Gethsemane, Mark tells us that “everyone deserted him and fled” (Mark
14:50). By “everyone” he means the disciples, for who else was there with him
in the Garden? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But before we judge their desertion too harshly – have we
never reacted to a frightening situation in sheer, blind panic? – it’s only right
to recognise that they do seem to have straggled back once the shock had sunk
in a little. We know from John 19:25-27 that “the beloved disciple” was right
there “near the cross of Jesus”, along, of course, with a group of women
including Jesus’ mother; and I like to think that the rest of the male
disciples were around somewhere not far off, even if in rather <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>skulking mode.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We weren’t around on that terrible yet wonderful day; we
didn’t have the option of being with Jesus when he died. But probably most of
us do have a choice about next Friday, and the words come to mind of the
American Folk Hymn: “<i>Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”.</i> Not,
of course, that we are mourning a dead person! But we do gather to remember his
suffering – suffering endured purely for us and in our place.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some of the best hymns and songs in the history of the
church were written for Good Friday. They still speak powerfully, in spite of
archaic language. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I love <i>O sacred head, sore wounded</i>, thought to have
been written around 1100. It climaxes in a prayer anticipating death… <i>Be
near me when I’m dying,/ O show thy cross to me,/ And, for my succour flying,/
Come, Lord, and set me free!/ These eyes, new faith receiving,/ From Jesus
shall not move;/ For he who dies believing,/ Dies safely through thy love. </i>Thanks
be to God for that! The cross of Jesus gives us solid hope.<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And here is<i> It is a thing most wonderful</i>, written by
W W How<i>, </i>who lived from 1823 to 1897… <i>It is most wonderful to know/
His love for me so free and sure:/ But ‘tis more wonderful to see/ My love for
him so faint and poor…</i> (Which of us can’t say Amen to that<b>!) </b>And
then this humble prayer:<i> And yet I want to love thee, Lord:/ O light the
flame within my heart,/ And I will love thee more and more,/ Until I see thee
as thou art. </i>(And which of us can’t echo <i>that</i> prayer?)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What about <i>When I survey the wondrous cross</i>, by
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)?... <i>Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,/ Save in
the death of Christ my God; / All the vain things that charm me most, / I
sacrifice them to his blood/…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were the
whole realm of nature mine,/ That were an offering far too small,/ Love so
amazing, so divine,/ Demands my soul, my life, my all.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There are some fine new(er) songs as well, of course. Thank
God for hymn-writers like Graham Kendrick, who wrote in 1983… <i>The price is
paid,/ Come let us enter in/ To all that Jesus died/ To make our own. / For
every sin/ More than enough he gave,/ And bought our freedom / From each guilty
stain./ The price is paid, / Alleluia!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And here is Matt Redman, who is prepared to look the
reality of our own deaths right in the face as he reflects on Jesus’ death… <i>And
on that day when my strength is failing,/ The end draws near and my time has
come,/ Still my soul will sing in praise unending,/ Ten thousand years and then
for evermore. / Bless the Lord, O my soul! </i>Again, <i>hope</i>, given in the
midst of what often seems a hope<i>less</i> world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m not writing this blog with the aim of “guilting” anyone
into being in worship on Good Friday. No; if we are there it should be because
it’s in our hearts to be there. But, as I suggested at the beginning, if by any
chance we have of late drifted away a bit from church (perhaps never really got
back after covid?), could there be a better day on which to renew the habit?
And what better occasion to sing some of these wonderful words? The price <i>is</i>
paid! Come, let us enter in! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The crucified and risen Jesus waits to meet us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lord Jesus Christ, I have known the story of
your suffering, death and resurrection for so long that it has almost become
stale and lost much of its wonder for me. Please refresh my faith. Please give
me the determination and conviction to be among your people in worship and
praise over this Easter weekend, on Good Friday if at all possible, as well as
on Easter Sunday. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-51463380006541653512024-03-22T15:04:00.000+00:002024-03-22T15:04:24.735+00:00Justified by faith? (2)<p><span class="text"><b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">To some who were confident of their
own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this
parable:</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> <span class="woj">“Two men went up to the
temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.</span> <span class="woj">The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that
I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax
collector.</span> <span class="woj">I fast twice a week and give a
tenth of all I get.’</span></span></i></b></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">“But the tax collector stood at a
distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and
said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I tell you that this man, rather
than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt
themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” </span></i></b></span><span class="woj"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Luke 18:9-14<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Last time we thought about
“justification by faith”, and how it has become crystalized into a “doctrine” which
might be called the motto-definition of the Protestant Reformation: If you feel
the need to be right with God (as we all should, for we are all sinners) then
simply put your trust in what Jesus did on the cross, and abandon any attempt
to put yourself right by your own efforts. God in his mercy will forgive and
save.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I mentioned that the idea of
“justification”, which is gone into in detail by the Apostle Paul (Romans 3:28
being a key summary) is used hardly at all in the Gospels by Jesus himself. It
is in essence a term from the legal world, pretty much the equivalent of
“acquittal”, “getting the verdict” or, if we might invent an ugly word, being
“righteoused” by God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But there is one outstanding
exception to this generalisation: Luke 18:14, the final verse of a wonderful
little story Jesus told to demonstrate what it means to be “justified” by God. It’s
about two men, a very religious Pharisee and a broken, humble tax-collector,
who go into the temple to pray – and how it was the second one, the one who
didn’t try to “righteous” himself, who went home with the peace of mind that
comes of knowing that you are forgiven. There, in story form, is the “doctrine”
of justification by faith. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Jesus loved telling stories (I
wonder, by the way, why we who preach seem often reluctant to follow his
example!). Some of those stories, like the Good Samaritan or the Prodigal Son,
are well known even outside Christian circles, for they glow with life-changing
meaning. But they don’t come any simpler or more powerful than this one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">What is it that makes it so
special? I would suggest…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">First</span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">, it’s beautifully short (less than 150 words in the NIV Bible,
roughly half that in the Greek). Yet in those few words Jesus conjures up the
whole atmosphere and culture of those far off days by showing us these two
people: and, I think, implicitly inviting us to find our place in their drama. It’s
massively heartening to the humble, and, hopefully, massively challenging to
the proud. Where am I – where are you? – in this story? The problem, often,
with “doctrine” is that it can seem very wordy and hard to grasp; thanks be to
God for Jesus’ little story!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Second</span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">, it’s beautifully simple.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The self-righteous man is not short
of words; he presents God with a comprehensive list of all the nasty things he <i>isn’t</i>
– a robber, an evildoer, an adulterer, and certainly not “like this tax
collector” (can you see him looking scornfully down his lordly nose?) – and
then he reminds God (though I suspect that God already knew, don’t you?) of a
few of his plus-points: look, I fast twice a week! look, I even tithe my
income! <i>Aren’t I good!<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The tax-collector, on the other
hand, clearly knows his own true self. He belongs to a profession (probably
employed, and paid, by the hated Romans) not renowned for their honesty. No
doubt he has other moral and spiritual blemishes we aren’t told about. But what
matters is that he is aware of his sinfulness:<i> “God, have mercy upon me, a
sinner</i>” is all the prayer he can muster.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But… the wonder is that it is all
the prayer he <i>needs</i> to muster! And so, says Jesus, he was the one who
“went home justified…”, at peace with the one true and holy God. The gospel of
Jesus is, then, essentially simplicity itself. It isn’t, first and foremost, a
“doctrine” to be studied and puzzled over; it’s a wonderful truth that you
discover, live, experience, and enjoy, a gift of God’s grace to be received
with childlike faith.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Do you know what it is to “go home
justified”?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There is a <i>third</i> feature of
this story which is worth commenting on. Does it raise hopes that people who
have never heard the gospel may be saved?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The tax-collector, obviously, didn’t
believe in Jesus, because he had never heard of him. How could he? – he is,
after all, only a fictitious character! and in historical reality, the cross
hadn’t yet happened anyway. Yet he “went home justified”; his cry for mercy was
enough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Could the same thing be true of
people throughout history who for various reasons have never had the
opportunity to put faith explicitly in Jesus? From our human perspective it seems
troubling to think of people – sinful people, certainly - condemned for failing
to believe in a Saviour of whom they have never heard… as if God is a doctor
who says to a sick patient, “I have a medicine which could cure you, but I am
not going to tell you what it is, or give it to you”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">These are deep waters to swim in,
and we have to be tentative! Our understanding of the mind of God is limited,
to put it mildly. But I freely confess that I, for one, would be delighted if it
turns out to be so! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Lord, have mercy!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Father, thank you for loving us so
much that you sent your Son to save us. Help me, in return, to live a life of
gratitude and glad obedience! Amen.</span></i></b></span><b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-12746554849270140132024-03-19T16:46:00.001+00:002024-03-19T16:46:20.408+00:00Justified by faith?<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We maintain that a person is justified by faith
apart from the works of the law. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Romans 3:28</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If somebody were to ask you “Are you justified by faith?”
how would you reply? I hope – with a resounding Yes!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Justification by faith is a great phrase. Indeed, it is
right at the heart of Paul’s understanding of the gospel of Christ (Jesus
himself rarely spoke in those terms). It means, in essence, being declared “in
the right” by God himself, in spite of being, like every other human being, a
sinner. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But how can anyone be both “in the right” and at the same
time a sinner? Isn’t that a contradiction? The answer Paul gives is: because
Jesus has taken our sins upon himself, and in doing so has paid the price which
was rightly ours to pay. Even though we still sin we can anticipate that
verdict “justified” (that is, “declared righteous”) on the final day of
judgment when we stand before God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The doctrine of justification by faith is particularly
associated with the name of Martin Luther, the monk who kick-started the
Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century. He felt that the church of his
time laid too much emphasis on “works” that we human beings must do in order to
be right with God. And, putting it simply, he found that however hard he tried
to measure up, he just couldn’t do it (and, make no mistake, he tried hard!).
His discovery (or perhaps I should say, his <i>re</i>-discovery) of Paul’s
understanding changed both his own life and the history of the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The result is that the church today consists, broadly
speaking, of three basic streams: Roman Catholic, Protestant (I imagine most
people reading this blog fall within this block), and what is usually called
Eastern Orthodox. As Christians we endlessly debate differences of
understanding and emphasis – sometimes, throughout history, to the extent of
killing one another, imagining that in so doing we are fighting the battles of
God himself. The more you think about that, the more shockingly sad it seems.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Christian history makes plain the tendency of God’s people
to form themselves into what we might call “tribes”, even within that threefold
division. These might be according to denominations – Baptist, Anglican, Roman
Catholic, Methodist, Salvation Army, you name it, plus the multitude of newer
groupings that have emerged in more recent years.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Many of us try to play down such tribal loyalties, because
we recognise that there is no such grouping which has it all right, no group
which is doctrinally perfect. But it isn’t easy! In my own case, coming as I
did from a non-church family, it “just so happened” (not really, of course)
that God met with me as a teenager in the context of a Baptist church, and
that’s where I’ve been ever since, aware of the imperfections of that tradition
but grateful too for the many blessings received and therefore unashamed to
have an affectionate and respectful sense of loyalty.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Within the grouping which is sometimes referred to as
“evangelical”, various catch-phrases – one might even call them slogans (possibly
even battle-cries!) – have emerged as a form of self-identity. In America, for
example, there are those who routinely refer to themselves as “born again”
Christians (but can there be any other sort!). Other buzz-words attached to “Christian”
might be “practicing” or “church-going” or “sincere” or “Bible-believing” or
“Spirit-filled” (but, again, shouldn’t such motto-words apply to any and every
Christian!).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What has all this to do with justification by faith, where
we started? I think it demonstrates how a concern for doctrinal correctness,
certainly important in itself, can slowly harden into a means of tribal
self-identification and even, putting it bluntly, into downright arrogance (as
in, “We, of course, are the only <i>true</i> Christians in this neighbourhood, because
we resolutely refuse to see works as being of any deep significance”). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But one moment… When Paul sat down to write to the Church
in Rome, and especially Romans 3, he didn’t think of himself as writing what we
now call “doctrine”: he just wanted to explain to the Roman Christians how he
understood the good news of the gospel, and “justified by faith”, and all it
implied, seemed an appropriate and accurate summary. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dare I put it like this: correct doctrine is vital – yet it
can also be a curse when in effect it becomes a new form of law. We need to use
our imaginations to grasp what it must have been like for the first pagan
unbelievers to hear the good news of Jesus. Trusting in him won’t have been
presented as a <i>condition to be met</i>, almost a box to be ticked, even a
threat to be warned about: “If you want to be put right with God, you’d better
start believing in the death and resurrection of Jesus, and the sooner the
better!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No. It will have been presented as exactly what the word
“gospel” means – <i>“good news”: </i>“You want to know how to be put right with
God? That’s wonderful! Just trust in what Jesus did on the cross!” And that
isn’t a condition to be dutifully met but an invitation to be joyfully
accepted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Let’s always remember: we are justified by faith; we are
not justified by believing in justification by faith. Can you spot the
difference?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, thank you that you sent Jesus not in
order to put another layer of law upon us, but to stretch out your hands of
love to all sinful men and women with the good news of Jesus crucified for our
sins and raised for out salvation. Save me, Lord, from ever misrepresenting
such joyful, liberating<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>good news. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-28753332384296243572024-03-10T18:27:00.001+00:002024-03-10T18:27:26.784+00:00Mary - the joy and the pain<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd
gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his
family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said ‘He is
out of his mind’. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mark 3:21</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mark 3:20-35 records a disturbing and rather puzzling
episode in the life of Jesus. If we read it right through we find that he is
drawing large crowds of listeners and there seems to be a danger of things
getting out of hand. It gets so bad that Mary and Jesus’ brothers turn up to
try and “take charge of him” (!) and take him home, for “they said ‘He is out
of his mind’”. It seems they want to physically frog-march him away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Who are “they”? It isn’t entirely clear. They could be
people in the crowd or Jesus’ enemies. But many Bible teachers think that it’s
a reference to Mary and the family: the literal meaning is “Those who were with
him”, which would, of course, cover both his family and the twelve apostles.
Whatever, it was a serious situation – Mary and the brothers were reduced to
standing on the outskirts of the crowd, unable even to get to him (verse 32).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After the story of Jesus’ birth the Gospels tell us very
little about Mary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is the episode of him as a twelve-year old boy going
missing in the Jerusalem temple and seeming to dismiss their natural anxieties:
“What worried you! Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke
2:49).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That must have hurt! Of course they knew perfectly well
that Joseph wasn’t his real father, but he had been in effect a father to him,
so this question must have seemed like a slap in the face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then there was the occasion of the wedding at Cana (John
2:1-12). No Joseph now – presumably he has died, so Mary no longer has the
comfort of his support. She naturally turns to Jesus for help when the wine
runs out – a true social disaster; and he seems almost off-hand with her:
“Woman, why do you involve me?… My hour has not yet come”. She turns to the
servants with the simple instruction, “Do whatever he tells you”, as if to say,
“I don’t understand him any better than you! Just do what he says!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And it gets even worse in this incident in Mark 3. Could it
really be that he has gone crazy? Is he no better than a ranting street-corner
preacher who’s suddenly picked up a near-hysterical following? This isn’t what
Mary had imagined when she received the angelic visitor all those years ago! Could
this be what the old man Simeon had prophesied when he foretold many wonderful things
– but then added the dark, ominous word to Mary: “And a sword will pierce your
own soul too” (Luke 2:35). What must Mary have thought about that?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well, we all experience doubts at different times in our
Christian lives – doubt is not a sin, and not (not normally, at any rate)
something to be ashamed of. But I don’t think it’s too much of an exaggeration
to suggest that Mary experienced something far more: she seems to have suffered
a crisis, a collapse, of faith. Is that going too far?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Most of us who have been Christians for any length of time
will probably know people who have gone through this. When we first knew them
they were radiant in their faith, solid as a rock. But then, perhaps completely
out of the blue, a situation arose which plunged them into the depths of
despair, and everything was doubt and confusion, rather as with Mary here.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m presently reading a book about the Christians who were
nicknamed “Puritans”, back in the 1600s. They were renowned for the seriousness
and intensity of their faith. They were strict in examining themselves for any
hidden sin which might separate them from God. And, contrary to their dour
reputation, they were often known for their deep peace and inner joy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But even these stalwart followers of Christ were not immune
to the type of thing Mary seems to have suffered here. “Brother Jones,” someone
might record in his diary, “failed to attend worship this Sunday morning,
afflicted once again by his melancholy…” They called it melancholy; today it
would probably be described as “depression”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You may have experienced such a thing yourself; indeed, you
may be going through it at this moment. If this is the case, the message has to
be: If such a special person as Mary – who received angelic visitors, who was
used by God as the recipient of an extraordinary miracle, who knew joy almost
beyond words – if such a person as <i>her</i> could suffer a collapse of faith,
<i>be encouraged!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Remember the end of her story. Watching at the foot of the
cross as Jesus died, she was committed by him (at the very point of death!) to
the care of the “beloved disciple” (what love was that on Jesus’ part!). And
still more: after his resurrection she was numbered among the first believers
in the upper room “where they were staying”. Luke, in Acts 1:14, gives us a
run-down of the apostles, and then adds, “They all joined together constantly
in prayer, <i>along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus</i>, and with
his brothers”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This time they weren’t pleading with Jesus to stop the
preaching and come home. No, they were confidently waiting for him to take <i>them</i>
home, where they would be re-united with him and see him face to face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In various ways Mary had a tough life; but Jesus brought
her through. And what he did for her he will do for you and me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">May God help us to hold to him through thick and thin!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dear Father, please help me to cling to you
through the bad times as well as the good, confident that whatever you allow to
happen to me will lead to my strengthening, and that the day will come when
every sorrow will be banished and every tear wiped away. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-83938265844442043192024-03-06T15:40:00.001+00:002024-03-06T15:40:39.389+00:00Thinking about thinking<p><span class="text"><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Finally,
brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right,
whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is
excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.</span></i></b></span><span class="text"><b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> Philippians 4:8</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You
probably take a bit of trouble thinking about what you feed into your body. And
rightly so – we keep hearing about an obesity epidemic, or about harmful
substances which are added to our food and which we probably know nothing about.
We may not feel any immediate effects after we eat, but the chances are it’s
only a matter of time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some
people, of course, turn healthy eating almost into an obsession, a
mini-religion. I get rather fed up (if that’s the right expression) with a
continuous flow of newspaper articles recommending one diet after another.
“Everything in reason!” I want to shout. “Stop bullying me! I’ve got enough to
worry about as it is!” (Are these the kind of people who Paul described, in KJV
days, Romans 16:18, as “serving their own belly”?)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well,
that’s as may be. But where I want to go is – not food for the body, but <i>food
for the mind</i>. This, surely, is far more important. You accommodate your
body for a certain number of years, and then it is gone and decays. Yes, it’s
important, and in fact it’s part of a Christian’s responsibility to look after
it (see the startling and sobering words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 6:19). But
what about your mind? What about the untold millions of words, thoughts, ideas,
memories and images which we all tuck away without so much as thinking about it
day by day? Are they wholesome? Healthy? Or are they the mental equivalent of
junk food?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Paul has a
habit of introducing lists into his letters: the most striking are probably
Galatians 5:19-21 (“the works of the flesh”) and Galatians 5:22-23 (“the fruit
of the Spirit”). But Philippians 4:8 doesn’t come far behind. Paul tells us
what qualities and characteristics we should “think about” as a matter of
course; in other words, he tells us about what kind of food we should be
feeding into our minds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">His list
has a slightly old-fashioned feel – “noble”, “admirable”, “excellent” (note
please, not “incredible” or “fantastic” or “amazing”, words which in recent
years have had all the juice sucked out of them through overuse). But that
simply gives it an enhanced dignity and impressiveness. If you’re anything like
me, you read these words and they have the effect of a beautiful warm shower:
cleansing, reviving and invigorating. Or, to change the image, they call to
mind some dear fellow-Christian who may well have been dead for 20 years – yet
who, like Abel, ”still speaks” (Hebrews 11:4), such was the impact they made on
you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Such a
person is reliable, trustworthy and solid, though not without humour (oh no,
not without humour!). A person who you instinctively feel you’d like to model
yourself on; a person who has made a significant difference to your life not so
much by anything they have said but just by being who they are.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In a world
where words and ideas are constantly flying around at breathless speed, pouring
out at us from the television or the internet, people like this are desperately
needed. They steady us and bring us back to base; they help to anchor us when
we seem to have no stability; there is no shallowness in them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A big
problem about the food we put into our minds is that very often we absorb it
without even realising what’s happening. Sit down and eat a meal and you know
exactly what you’re doing; how can you not? But food for the mind comes
creeping in often by a process of unnoticed infiltration: a newspaper headline;
a slogan; a television programme that you’re only half-watching; something off
the internet; a book that will only waste your time. And that’s why it needs
watching.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">James –
ever the practical man – tells us that “Religion that is pure and faultless is
this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and <i>to keep yourself
unspotted from the world</i>” (James 1:27). A big ask, that; but a vital part
of becoming like Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Is it time
to pause and reflect: <i>what kind of food do I allow into the private sanctum
of my mind?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><b><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father,
the beautiful world you have made has been tragically spoiled and corrupted,
and we, to whom you have given the precious gift of life, are part of that
corruption. Thank you for the word of Jesus, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst
after righteousness…” Please give me a true desire to be “filled”. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-27741846261703304482024-02-26T14:15:00.000+00:002024-02-26T14:15:32.152+00:00A perfect church?<p><span class="text"><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">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.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> <span class="text"><sup>26 </sup>For he
longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill.</span> <span class="text"><sup>27 </sup>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.</span> <span class="text"><sup>28 </sup>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.</span> <span class="text"><sup>29 </sup>So
then, welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honour people like him,</span> <span class="text"><sup>30 </sup>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. </span></span></i></b><span class="text"><b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Philippians 2:25-30</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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…!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First, <i>what kind of man was he?</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Answer: Paul describes him as <i>“my brother, co-worker and
fellow-soldier” </i>(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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That, of course, prompts another challenging question: do
my fellow-Christians see <i>me</i> as an Epaphroditus? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Second, <i>why in particular is Paul grateful to God for
Epaphroditus?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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 <i>“a fragrant offering, an
acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God”</i>. 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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Third, <i>what in particular happened to Epaphroditus that
caused anxiety to Paul?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Answer: he got sick <i>“and almost died”. </i>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. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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? – <i>he</i> was distressed because <i>they</i> were
distressed on his behalf.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-30920943966288355032024-02-21T14:32:00.000+00:002024-02-21T14:32:15.980+00:00The parable of the green tree<p><span class="text"><b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">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.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> <span class="text">A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned
and wailed for him.</span> <span class="text">Jesus turned and said to
them, </span><span class="woj">“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me;
weep for yourselves and for your children.</span> <span class="woj">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!’</span> <span class="woj">Then “they will say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="woj">and to the hills, ‘Cover
us!’<sup> </sup>For if people do these things when the tree is green, what
will happen when it is dry?” </span></span></i></b><span class="woj"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Luke 23:26-31</span></b></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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 <i>me</i> 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…” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">So far, so clear. But then Jesus
adds another saying which is not a quote from the Old Testament: <i>“If people
do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Two thoughts occur to me…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">First</span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">, 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).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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. <i>“Whoever has ears
to hear, let them hear…”!</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Second</span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">, 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.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-16025415170626047482024-02-12T15:15:00.000+00:002024-02-12T15:15:12.479+00:00"Kept for best"?<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Matthew
5:14-16<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I will also make you a light for the gentiles,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
Isaiah 49:6<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then you will shine… like stars in the sky…</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
Philippians 2:15<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To be fair, the people were quite happy to laugh at their
own absurdity: “Yes, we know it’s silly, but…”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Except for one thing: the very point of lighting a candle
at all is<i> in order </i>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?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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 <i>to be a blessing to others</i>. 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. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">May I ask if you recognise yourself in this? And if you do,
if you are aiming to do anything about it?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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 <i>see your good deeds</i> and glorify your
Father in heaven” (verse 16).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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 <i>both</i> “secret” in the way
we go about our acts of kindness <i>and</i> at the same time make sure to let
them be seen? Is Jesus contradicting himself?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It comes down to the question of <i>motive</i>. 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).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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.</span></i></b> </p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-82252670075909785572024-02-03T17:46:00.000+00:002024-02-03T17:46:02.934+00:00The hothead and the sneak (2)<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Luke
5:27-28</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Luke
6:13-16<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">I had in mind three lessons that can challenge us, but I
got no further than the first: that <i>conversion involves change</i>. You can’t
get much more basic than that. But here are the other two I didn’t have room
for.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Second, <i>following Jesus involves learning to love people
we don’t like</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The point is clear: once you become a Christian you must
accept that <i>Jesus chooses your friends for you. </i>Certainly, there <i>may</i>
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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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 <i>love one
another</i>, as Jesus taught us (John 15:12).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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 <i>The Message</i> 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!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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… <i>God
hasn’t finished with me yet!”</i> Amen to that!)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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…)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The third lesson: <i>the church needs all sorts of people.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">By the way, it’s worth noticing too that while we saw that
Simon the Zealot<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-72973832492158546822024-01-31T17:10:00.000+00:002024-01-31T17:10:14.840+00:00The hothead and the sneak<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Luke
5:27-28</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">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. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Luke
6:13-16<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you were asked to name Jesus’ twelve apostles, how would
you manage? Probably with some difficulty, if you’re anything like me!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There are two main reasons for this: first, because in the
different lists in the Gospels some of them have different names, which can be
a little confusing; and second, because, apart from Peter, James and John, we
simply aren’t told very much about them. (Bartholomew, for example: who was he,
and why did Jesus call him?)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But never mind. What matters is that Jesus chose twelve
special companions - “apostles” means “messengers sent out” – and they were
obviously very important to him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But what did they actually <i>do</i>? Yes, they accompanied
Jesus as he moved from place to place, and on occasions they were entrusted
with the task of preaching the kingdom of God, healing the sick and delivering
people from demonic oppression (eg, Luke 9:1-6). But what would an “ordinary”
day have been like for them? What about those hours on the road? What did they
talk about? How did they relax in the evenings? Did they have equivalents of
our board games? We surely shouldn’t imagine that every minute of every day was
spent in prayer or ministry or listening to Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Did they always get on together? Were there ever arguments
or even rows? Did Jesus sometimes have to calm them down? There must have been
times of tension, that’s for sure – see, for example, Matthew 20:20-28.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Why all these questions? If God hasn’t chosen to give us
the information we’re curious about, shouldn’t we just be content with that?
Well yes, of course. And yet there are worthwhile things to learn even from
these little-known names. Let’s focus on two shadowy individuals in particular…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First, the “<i>tax-collector by the name of Levi”</i>,
whose call is reported in Luke 5:27-28 (presumably the same person as Matthew
in Luke 6:13-16). Second, <i>“Simon who was called the Zealot” </i>(Luke 6:15).<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The interesting thing about these two is that, if they
hadn’t been with Jesus, we can only imagine that they would have been chalk and
cheese, indeed, out-and-out enemies. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tax-collectors were generally hated and resented by their
fellow Jews, mainly because the people on whose behalf they collected the taxes
were the Romans, the occupying power, but also because they had a reputation
for pocketing a bit extra if they felt like it (remember Zacchaeus?). They were
traitors, quislings, collaborators with the enemy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And the “Zealots”? They were the Jewish revolutionaries,
determined to get rid of the Romans once for all, by violent means if necessary.
(It’s possible that Barabbas, the prisoner who had “taken part in an uprising”
(John 18:40) and who was released from sentence of death rather than Jesus, was
a zealot.) Just possibly Simon was called “the Zealot” as a friendly nickname –
“hothead Simon” – but, whatever, he sounds like a person of strong views and
fiery temperament.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By the time Levi and Simon met they had, presumably, fallen
under the spell of Jesus and become changed men. But, as we all know from our
own experience, conversion doesn’t transform us instantly, or totally. Our
political allegiance, if we have one, may remain the same, like our loyalty to
a particular football team. So, when plodding, grasping Levi and fiery Simon first
met, they very likely felt a strong, instinctive mutual loathing – “What? I’m
expected to treat this man like a brother? You can’t be serious, Jesus!” (Oh,
but Jesus was!)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Any community of human beings, large or small, is bound to
generate tensions and animosities, and Jesus’ self-picked band is no exception.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And neither is any church today, as many of us may be
painfully aware. As we think about Simon and Levi, three obvious but easily
forgotten lessons come to mind…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First</span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">, Conversion means <i>change</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I have said, we know next to nothing about Levi and
Simon. But one thing we can be absolutely sure of: they weren’t the same people
they had been before they met Jesus. For Levi, no more fraternising with the
enemy and making yourself rich at the expense of your own people; and for
Simon, no more revolutionary talk or action.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And for us? We can’t claim to follow Jesus while remaining
the same people as before. It may take time, and this side of death it will
never be complete - but the fact is that Jesus, by his Spirit, is engaged in
the process of transforming us into his likeness. He is training us not only to
act and speak differently, but to <i>think</i> differently, to view situations
through new, fresh eyes. Paul puts it into powerful words in Romans 12:1-2,
where he speaks of being <i>“transformed by the renewing of your mind”.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Let’s ask ourselves if we, even if subconsciously, are
carrying over into our Christian lives habits or attitudes which simply have no
place in them. Isn’t our main motive to become like him? If not, why bother to call
ourselves “Christians” at all?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m running out of space. Please join me next time for
lessons two and three!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lord Jesus, thank you for calling such a mixed
group to be your first apostles. And thank you for calling even me to follow
you. Help me to welcome gladly your work of changing me, even if it isn’t
always comfortable! Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-79024999302964132052024-01-25T16:03:00.001+00:002024-01-25T16:03:37.078+00:00The tragedy of the hardened heart<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Lord said to Moses… “But I will harden
Pharaoh’s heart…”</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> <b>Exodus 7:1-3</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But… Pharaoh hardened his heart and would not
let the people go. Exodus 8:32</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden
your hearts…</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Hebrews 3:7-8</span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I remember a man I met at a church where I preached from
time to time. He was as regular in his attendance as many of the active church
members. He seemed entirely at home in this community of quite lively
Christians; indeed, he was involved to the extent of happily helping out with
various practical tasks. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But… he was quite open about not being a Christian. “So why
do you come?” I asked him. “Oh, I love it,” he cheerfully replied. “They’re
such lovely people here - I look forward to every Sunday morning”. When I
pointed out that one of the reasons the people at the church were so kind and
welcoming was because of what they actually <i>believed</i> as Christians - and
wasn’t it about time he too made that step of faith! - he just smiled and said
“No, I’m not interested, I don’t want it!” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Christians of past generations used to describe such people
as “gospel-hardened”. We can imagine them sadly shaking their heads and saying,
“Oh yes, he never misses coming to church, but he’s heard the gospel so often
that it just rolls off him like water off a duck’s back”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well, it would be wrong to begrudge that man the blessing
he found in a gathering of Christian people. But I couldn’t help feeling that
as well as being distinctly odd, his attitude was also extremely sad. Only God
can judge the true state of someone’s heart, of course, but it was hard not to
wonder if this man was “gospel-hardened”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Bible has quite a lot to say about hard hearts. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the best known passages is Exodus 4-11; it’s the
grim lead-up to the great event known as the exodus, when God set his people
free from their captivity in Egypt. Several times Pharaoh, the Egyptian king,
had opportunities to yield to God’s offer of mercy rather than face judgment,
but equally on several occasions Pharaoh said No, until the point was reached
where it was too late, and judgment fell. (The fact that sometimes we are told
that <i>God</i> <i>hardened Pharaoh’s heart</i>, and other times that <i>Pharaoh</i>
<i>hardened his own heart</i> is perhaps as near as the Bible gets to explaining
the mystery of the two seemingly contradictory realities: <i>human freedom</i> on
the one hand, and <i>divine sovereignty</i> on the other.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Often, when God scolds his people Israel for their failure
to be faithful to him, he accuses them of being hard-hearted: for example, “Do
not <i>harden your hearts</i> as you did at Meribah…” (Psalm 95:8) - a passage later
on taken up in the New Testament, as in Hebrews 3:7-8,15 and 4:7.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The quoting of these passages in the New Testament should
alert us to an important truth: <i>that we as Christians can also be guilty of developing
hard hearts</i>. The writer to the Hebrews is clearly concerned that his
readers are in danger of sliding back into their pre-Christian past (eg, 3:12-14).
So while their situation is a long way from that of stubborn Pharaoh, they are
in serious spiritual danger, and there is no room for complacency.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And this, surely, is a danger into which we too can fall. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Here’s a question which I find it challenging to put to
myself, and which you might find helpful too: <i>Have I ever felt that God was
speaking to me, by whatever means, but said to myself “Not today”, or perhaps
“No, that’s one thing I can’t do” or just allowed the message to fade away? If
I have, then what is that but hardening my heart against the word of God?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Looked at from a human perspective, it’s as if God reaches
a point of no return. The Bible says that “he is not willing that anyone should
perish” (2 Peter 3:9) – yet we know that there are those who do perish. I
hesitate to say simply that “his patience runs out”, for that makes him sound
just like an irritable man or woman, but to us it may seem that way.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’ve come a long way from the idea of being
“gospel-hardened”, from Pharaoh, and from my cheery atheistic friend. But there
is a New Testament passage where Paul, without actually using the word
“harden”, expresses very much the same idea.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In Romans 1 he speaks at some length about “the wrath of
God” against human sin as represented by the gentiles, and in three separate
places he says that it is a destiny which God <i>“gives them over” </i>to
(verses 24, 26, 28). That could sound as if God washes his hands of them once
and for all; but it can’t mean that, for otherwise why would Paul have gone to
such extreme lengths to preach the gospel to these very people?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But the point we need to grasp is that God’s word is a
serious matter, not something to be brushed aside or treated casually. It is
something to be <i>responded to</i>, not merely listened to. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Are any of us in danger of hardening our hearts against his
love and grace, or against any aspect of his truth? Is it time to give in?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, I confess that there are aspects of
your word which make me uncomfortable, and which I am tempted to dismiss.
Please forgive me, and help me even today to respond to anything you might be
saying to me. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-69289493412267109672024-01-20T20:16:00.000+00:002024-01-20T20:16:00.906+00:00Compassion for the guilty?<p><span class="text"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">M</span><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">e</span></i></b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 107%;">anwhile</span></span><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 107%;">,
when a crowd of many thousands had gathered, so that they were trampling on one
another, Jesus began to speak first to his disciples, saying: </span></span><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">“Be on your guard against
the yeast of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> <span class="woj">There is nothing concealed
that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known.</span> <span class="woj">What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and
what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from
the roofs”. </span></span></i></b><span class="woj"><b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Luke12:1-3</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I rather
surprised myself the other day by feeling a wave of sympathy for the prominent
people in the post office scandal who bear responsibility for the shocking
events that have happened. As we all know, an appalling injustice has been done
to hundreds of ordinary, completely innocent, people who have suffered, and
continue to suffer, as a result.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So… Sympathy
for such people? You can’t be serious! They knew something very bad had gone on;
perhaps they connived at it; yet they turned a blind eye and did nothing to put
it right. They deserve all the condemnation and even punishment that they get!
Sympathy for such people – never!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And yet… I <i>did</i>
feel sympathy, though of course nothing like as much as for the victims. Was I
wrong in this?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What touched
me was a newspaper article which, in effect, exposed one of the guilty people
to the gaze of the whole world: her high position in the management of the post
office; what she was guilty of doing – and, perhaps more to point, of not
doing; how grotesquely well-paid she was; how little concern she seemed to have
felt for the victims. It was easy to react, “Yes, let her suffer! It’s all that
she deserves”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But then I
found myself thinking of the sobering words of Jesus in Luke 12:1-3: “There is
nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made
known”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My train of
thought went something like this… First, God knows all things, including the
secrets of our hearts and the very worst things about each of us. Yet <i>still
he loves us</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Second, one
day each of us will be called to account before God for the people we have been
in this earthly life and for the things we have done – “we must all appear
before the judgment seat of Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:10). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Third, this
solemn truth applies to every human being, and that includes even those of us who
know that “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans
8:1). That’s a wonderfully comforting assurance, but not exactly a truth to
make us complacent! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fourth, the
uncomfortable question wouldn’t go away, “How would <i>I</i> feel if all the
bad things about me were publicly displayed for everyone to see?” – and, make
no mistake, there are plenty of them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The basic
truth can’t be escaped: <i>we are all sinners</i>. To put it in Bible terms: “All
have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Or, as Hamlet
asks in Shakespeare’s play: “Use every man after his desert and who shall
‘scape whipping?” Who indeed! Certainly not me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Please don’t
misunderstand me. I’m not suggesting that people who act wrongly, or even just with
appalling negligence, should not be brought to justice; not at all. In this
particular case, the sooner that happens the better. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But isn’t there
something unsavoury and contrary to the spirit of Jesus when the rest of us –
secretly gloating? - decide to come piling in (oh, how righteous and virtuous <i>we</i>
are!) to put the boot in and to enjoy their humiliation and mortification. Probably
it makes us feel a little better about ourselves… “Well, at least I’ve never
done anything like <i>that</i>!” But in reality it just exposes our
insecurities and adds to the poisonous air we are breathing all the time. And
it covers us with a veneer of self-righteousness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Most of us
have probably managed to stay clear of the really “big” sins: murder, adultery,
theft, violence and so on. But have I never hated? or been jealous? or said hurtful
words? or been lazy? or turned away from somebody with a claim on my care? or
harboured proud thoughts? Have I ever given serious thought to the words of
Jesus – that hatred and anger are tantamount to murder, that lustful thoughts
are tantamount to adultery? (Matthew 5:21-30). Is it time I did?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We read in 1
Corinthians 13:6 that “love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the
truth”. Yes, the truth must – will – ultimately come out concerning all things.
But that is an alarming thought even for those of us who like to think we are
basically “good” people. Feeling sympathy for a shamed, humiliated sinner is, I
hope, an appropriately Christlike response in such a situation: “There but for
the grace of God go I”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the
greatest moments in the gospels is when Jesus stood to address the “woman taken
in adultery” (John 8:1-11). Her persecutors, confronted by Jesus, have lost
their enthusiasm for stoning her to death and melted sheepishly away; whereupon
we read: “Jesus straightened up and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has
no-one condemned you?’ ‘No-one, sir,’ she said. ‘Then neither do I condemn
you’, Jesus declared. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin’.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lord
Jesus, thank you that your tenderness and compassion reach even to the worst of
sinners, including me. Thank you that you came into this world not to condemn
it, but to save it. Help me to remember this when I am tempted to
self-righteousness, and to hold out the good news of your forgiveness even to
those who may be burning with shame. Amen.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-42911346886565622272024-01-11T15:57:00.000+00:002024-01-11T15:57:01.515+00:00The poison of arrogance<p><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Do not
think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with
sober judgment… </span></i></b><b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Romans 12:3</span></b><span class="woj"><b><i><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></sup></i></b></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Already you
have all you want! Already you have become rich! You have begun to reign <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- and that without us! How I wish that you
really had begun to reign, so that we also might reign with you!</span></i></b></span><span class="woj"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> 1 Corinthians 4:8-9<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">To the
angel of the church in Laodicea write… You say, ‘I am rich; I have
acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you
are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <span class="woj"> </span></span></i></b><span class="woj"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Revelation 3:14,17<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Do you know
anyone who is arrogant? The very word is ugly, and there are plenty of
alternatives: self-righteous, proud, vain, too big for their boots, complacent,
a bit fond of themselves, over-confident… We might apply it to a neighbour, to
someone at work or some organisation we belong to. However we describe it, the
plain fact is that we just don’t like it: “Who do they think they are…?” we
mutter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But we need
to be careful – the three quotes above make it clear that arrogance can rear
its ugly head among God’s people. In Romans 12:3 Paul addresses individual
church members; in 1 Corinthians 4:8-9 he addresses (not without a heavy dose of
sarcasm!) a whole church; and in Revelation 3:14,17 Jesus addresses the church of
Laodicea as a whole. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Could it
just possibly be that you, or I, are guilty of arrogance? Could it just
possibly be that the church we belong to is guilty of arrogance?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">If we read
the whole of the letter of Jesus to the church in Laodicea – that’s all of Revelation
3:14-22 – we find that the essence of their problem is that they are
self-deluded; they’re so smug that they just can’t see what is obvious to
everybody else.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">They are
“luke-warm”, when no doubt they think they are red-hot Christians. They think
thy are “rich”, no doubt meaning in spiritual terms, when in fact they are
“wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked” (that’s not a pretty list, is it!).
They think they are specially precious to Jesus, but they are blissfully
unaware that he is (verse 16) “about to spit them out of his mouth” (just try
picturing that!).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Churches
that come across as arrogant probably fall into one of two traps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">First</span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">, they may have grown impressively and therefore have all the
trappings of what the world calls “success”: fine buildings, bulging
congregations, plenty of money, a wide range of activities, and gifted people
to run them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And what’s
wrong with that? Nothing at all, of course. Would that more churches answered
to that kind of description! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But the
question may arise: what of the <i>spirit</i> of such churches? Is there a
subconscious “We’ve made it!” mentality: or, as the Laodiceans thought, “I have
acquired wealth and do not need a thing”? Could it be that what started as a
humble gathering of ordinary Christians, Christians who knew very well their
total dependence on the Holy Spirit, has curdled into something that Jesus’ tongue
finds distasteful – indeed, something spittable, if I may invent a word.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In America
some years ago I made a point of visiting two quite famous “mega-churches” in a
big city. Certainly, all those “trappings of success” were there, but I found
it hard not to feel that the atmosphere of one was humble, edifying and
Spirit-led, while the other – well, this could of course just be me, but let’s
say that I was glad to get away at the end.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I was
reminded of a basic Bible principle: <i>Only God’s opinion ultimately matters.</i>
Obvious, when you stop to think about it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Second</span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">, churches that come across as arrogant may be those which pride
themselves primarily on their doctrinal accuracy; perhaps they have fallen into
the trap of seeing themselves not so much as communities of brothers and
sisters in Christ, but as teaching centres where all that seems to matter is an
accurate understanding of scripture. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In my
student years, many years ago now, I used to attend such a church, and I still
think with gratitude of all I learned as a young Christian. But in the years
since, I have discovered that – how shall I put this? – there was a lot I
needed to <i>un</i>learn. Such churches can easily breed a mentality of “We’re
the only <i>real</i> Christians around here”, and decline to recognise as truly
Christian other churches which may interpret scripture differently, and refuse
to co-operate with them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">To be fair
to them, they are determined to open up God’s word with strict accuracy, which
of course is vitally important. But can it also result in a mentality of fear,
a nervousness of displeasing God by getting some minor aspect of teaching wrong?
And may it thus come across as dry and intellectual, creating a community that
has unwittingly “quenched the Holy Spirit” (1 Thessalonians 5:19)?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There’s a
balance we need to strike here. On the one hand we should be people of strong,
bold convictions, refusing to water down timeless biblical truths; on the other
hand we should be humble and teachable enough to say, “Of course, I could be
wrong”, even willing to change. After all, Jesus said of prophets – people who
professed to teach the truth - “By their <i>fruit</i> you shall know them”, not
by their doctrinal correctness (Matthew 7:15-23).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">We might
say of an arrogant person, “He really makes something of himself!” But let’s
not forget that it was said of Jesus, the perfect living Word of God, “he made <i>nothing</i>
of himself …he <i>humbled</i> himself” (Philippians 2:7-8). Isn’t that our
calling too?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="first-line-none" style="background: white;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Father,
forgive me if there are times when I love Jesus too little and myself too much.
Teach me the humility of him who “made himself nothing” even to the extent of
dying on the cross. Amen. </span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Segoe UI",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-12148790507810092522024-01-04T10:34:00.004+00:002024-01-04T10:34:58.971+00:00When heaven and earth meet<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When Jacob woke from his sleep, he thought,
“Surely the Lord was in this place, and I didn’t know it… How awesome is this
place! This is nothing other than the house of God; this is the gate of
heaven”.</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Genesis 28:16-17</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jesus said, “Very truly I tell you, you will
see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of
Man”.</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> John 1:51<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jacob is in trouble. More than once he has shown himself to
be a nasty, lying individual. He has taken advantage of his perhaps rather
gullible twin brother Esau. Most recently he has schemed with their mother
Rebekah to deceive their father Isaac, who is old and blind, and so robbed Esau
of Isaac’s fatherly blessing. Putting it crudely, he is what might be called “a
nasty piece of work”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And now he is on the run. Esau, understandably, has a
grudge against him and declares his intention to kill him (Genesis 27:41), so
Rebekah packs him off to find refuge with her brother Laban in the distant town
of Harran. So far, so not very good.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But on his lonely journey something happens that transforms
his life (Genesis 28:10-22)…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He reaches “a certain place”. This could be anywhere – only
later do we learn its name. He’s ready for sleep. So, taking a convenient stone
to use as a pillow, he lies down. And… he dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“He saw a stairway resting on the earth, with
its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God ascending and descending on
it. There above it stood the Lord, who said ‘I am the Lord, the God of your
father Abraham and the God of Isaac…’”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the following verses God renews for Jacob the covenant
he had made earlier with Abraham and Isaac, the promise of great prosperity –
and of great, historic usefulness: <i>“All peoples on earth will be blessed
through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you…” </i>That’s
some promise!<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There are many truths we can draw from this dramatic event.
At the heart of it is the sheer grace of God: how he treats so <i>well</i>
somebody who has behaved so <i>badly</i>. If that’s not grace, I don’t know
what is! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If, by the way, you find yourself almost wanting to tell
God off for acting unjustly, well, you won’t be the first person down through
history to feel that way. But the answer to that is to remind ourselves that,
in principle if not in detail, not a single one of us is any different from
Jacob. After all, “we have <i>all</i> sinned and fall short of the glory of
God”, as Paul explains (Romans 3:23). Without God’s grace, where would any of
us be?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Another lesson can be drawn by comparing this event linking
heaven and earth with that massive building project described in Genesis 11:
the tower of Babel, a “tower that reaches to the heavens”. Proud and stupid
humankind embark on this to “make a name for ourselves” – and of course it all comes
to nothing: “they stopped building the city… and the Lord scattered them over
the face of the whole earth”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And likewise we, if we try to build anything – including
our very lives – apart from God, we are doomed to failure. We are simply
incapable of climbing up to God; but the good news of the gospel is that we
don’t need to, for he has come down to us, as Jacob learned that night, and as Jesus
was, rather mysteriously, to promise later to Nathanael (John 1:51).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Deep and precious things. But what struck me most forcibly,
re-reading the story, were Jacob’s words as he absorbed what had happened: <i>“Surely
the Lord is in this place, and I didn’t know it”</i>. The point being: “this
place” was a bit of a nothing location, with no name that Jacob was aware of,
the sort of place you pass through purely in order to get somewhere else, what
we might call “the middle of nowhere” or “the back of beyond”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A dry, scrubby bit of semi-desert, yet… <i>God was there</i>,
and chose to reveal himself. A nothing place, maybe - yet Jacob was moved to
call it “Bethel” (“the house of God”!) and “the gate of heaven”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Buildings and “sacred spaces” in which to meet and worship
God are often significant, and should not be undervalued. But they are not
essential, for God can be met and enjoyed in any place where he sees fit to
make himself known. This can happen even for somebody like Jacob who may very
well have been totally neglectful of him. How much more, then, can it happen
for the person whose heart is open to know his presence and experience his
love?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Certainly, it’s not likely to happen in the dramatic kind
of way it happened for Jacob! But who knows what God might see fit to do? We
hear wonderful stories of people who meet with God in circumstances of war,
tragedy, sickness, imprisonment or disaster. And even in the routine business
of dull, ordinary, everyday life – even in that grey, dismal period after the
excitement of Christmas and new year – let’s never doubt that <i>God is there</i>,
even though we didn’t know it, and that we can have our own little “Bethel”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Christian, expect an encounter with God today, however
unpromising the prospect may seem!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, whatever this day may bring, however
drab and ordinary it seems, may I, when I come to its end, be able to say with
Jacob, “Yes, surely the Lord is in this place!” Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-81008998806506457832023-12-28T15:23:00.001+00:002023-12-28T15:23:18.890+00:00Jesus' tears<p><span class="text"><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">When
Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were
harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> <span class="woj"> </span></span></i></b><span class="woj"><b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Matthew 9:36</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There are few
portrayals of Jesus in the Gospels that appeal to me more than this: I see him
shaking his head in sorrow, the tears standing in his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The key word
is “compassion”. The verse could be translated literally, “When Jesus saw the
crowds his stomach churned with pity…”. This is a level of emotion that we,
perhaps, rarely know – though seeing a little child dragged out of the ruins of
Gaza must surely come close.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Here is the
full humanity of Jesus: he wasn’t God pretending to be a man, simply playing a
part; no, he was fully divine but fully human as well. This is what God is really
like.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Matthew uses
some graphic words to describe the crowds in Galilee: “harassed” could equally
be vexed, or distressed; “helpless” could be laid low, or unable to cope; “like
sheep without a shepherd” – well, that speaks for itself: lost, wandering,
aimless, hopeless. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">These aren’t
people caught up in the horrors of war, which of course is even worse; they are
people – just “ordinary” people - struggling to cope with the everyday
pressures of life. I can’t help thinking of the people milling around our local
city centre in the build-up to Christmas: struggling to make ends meet,
determined to have “a good time”, whatever that may mean, but looking anything
but happy. In a word, just ordinary human beings like untold millions on the
face of the earth from the beginning of time. Whoever it was who called this
sad and sinful world “a vale of tears” wasn’t far wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I imagine
Jesus, full of tenderness, surveying this scene, I find myself challenged by
the question: How might I react in the same situation? Indeed, how <i>do</i> I
react?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Do I react
with<i> indifference?</i> “Well, that’s the way life is. There’s nothing much I
can do about it, so I’ll just look after myself as best I can, and leave others
to look after themselves.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No Christian,
reading about the compassion of Jesus, can possibly be content with that.
Famous as the shortest verse in the Bible, John 11:35 tells us that “Jesus
wept” at the tomb of Lazarus. (And that was by no means the only time.) God
help us all to pray, in the words of the beautiful little Graham Kendrick song,
“Soften my heart, Lord, soften my heart… from all indifference, set me apart…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hopefully, I
don’t react with<i> callousness</i>. “It’s none of my business, so why should I
bother with the sufferings of other people? I’m all right, so as far as I’m
concerned that’s that”. That, in fact, is just one step away from indifference,
our first category; it’s indifference that has hardened into heartlessness, and
we need to be very watchful, for it isn’t only our bodies that change, it’s
also our inner selves. Let’s examine ourselves, in case we wake up one day and
find ourselves asking, “How – oh how! – did I come to be this way?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I might just shrug
my shoulders and react with <i>despair</i>. “The pains of this life have no
end; they are questions without answers, wounds without medicines”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even a
Christian may sometimes feel this way, and that’s understandable. The list of
problems seems infinite: wars and rumours of wars (as Jesus foretold); economic
crises wherever you look; climate change threatening the future of our planet; poverty,
homelessness and hardship; gender confusion; political instability and tension…
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When tempted
to despair we need to come back to base, so to speak, and to remind ourselves
that it was ever thus. The pains of our world may take different forms from
centuries ago, but in principle they are very much the same – and that was a
world to which Jesus came proclaiming <i>good</i> news! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Only faith
can enable us to hold fast to the promises of Jesus in, for example, Matthew
24, so our business is to be totally honest with God, and with one another, and
to cling on if necessary by our very finger-nails. As Christians we are
essentially deeply serious people, as well as full of joy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is also
a fourth possible response to the suffering of our world: I might choose to <i>condemn</i>:
“These people who are so lost and helpless – well, they have brought it on
themselves. Unlike me, they have failed to get to grips with the forces of
life, and that is why we see them dependent on food-banks, or lying in shop
doorways in the city centre, or unable to hold down a reasonable job. They’re
just life’s losers”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There may be
some truth in our criticisms, for we know that all of us need to be held to
account for our sins and follies. But judging, ultimately, is God’s business,
not ours. Our business is to foster the compassion of Christ within ourselves
and within others. Lord, preserve me from arrogance and self-righteousness!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A key thing
to finish with: Jesus didn’t just <i>feel</i> compassion; he went on to <i>act</i>
compassionately, to <i>do</i> something. He preached the good news; he taught
the truth of God; and he healed the sick and fed the hungry.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“But I’m not
equipped to do that!” we say. To which Jesus relies: Oh yes, you are! You have
the equipping of my Spirit. No, you can’t feed the world’s hungry or stop the
world’s wars. But you <i>can</i> take a look at your own tiny bit of the world,
and work out how to make a tiny bit of a difference right there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Can’t you?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father,
thank you that Jesus knew the meaning of tears. Please increase daily the level
of my tenderness, until I truly can feel his compassion and weep with his
tears. Amen.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-50373298891172987442023-12-20T16:42:00.001+00:002023-12-20T16:42:46.086+00:00From terror to joy<p><span class="text"><b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping
watch over their flocks at night.</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> <span class="text"><sup>9 </sup>An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and
the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.</span> <span class="text"><sup>10 </sup>But the angel said to them, “Do not be
afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the
people.</span> <span class="text"><sup>11 </sup>Today in the town of
David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.</span> <span class="text"><sup>12 </sup>This will be a sign to you: You will find a
baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” </span></span></i></b><span class="text"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Luke 2:8-12</span></b></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">My mother was a farmer’s daughter.
I remember visiting the farm on childhood holidays, in what seemed to me, born
and brought up in London, the backwoods of southern Ireland. A city boy through
and through, I’m afraid that nothing of that rural way of life has left its
mark on me. So the story of the shepherds and the angels doesn’t strike any
particular chords with me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The farm had dairy cattle anyway –
big lumpy, floppy, smelly cows, I remember - rather than sheep. So, probably
like most of us, I have to work hard with my imagination to picture these
unnamed men Luke tells us about, “living out in the fields” as they guarded
their flocks by night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The experts tell us that probably
they were looked down on by their more prosperous neighbours because their work
routine prevented them from fulfilling their religious duties – just as in our
world there are those for whom standard Sunday service times are simply not
possible. (I began my ministry twenty years later in Scunthorpe, Lincolnshire,
a “steel town” which functioned according to a shift system that imposed a
sleep pattern quite alien to anything I had known.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I wonder what that night-shift was
like for the shepherds of Luke 2? I picture them huddled up against the cold,
struggling to stay awake and longing for morning to come. Then something odd
happens: a stranger appears as if out of nowhere. Who can he be? Why has he
come? <i>How</i> has he come? A sense of something uncanny creeps over them,
but it doesn’t last long, for it becomes apparent that the visitor is a
messenger of God himself (that’s really what an “angel” was), and “the glory of
the Lord shone around them”. Puzzlement turned to sheer terror.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The angel’s first words are simple:
<i>“Do not be afraid…”</i> Then he goes on to tell them about the birth of “a
Saviour”, the “Messiah”, in Bethlehem; and just to ensure there’s no risk of
mistaken identity, that they will find the child “lying in a manger” (there
can’t be too many new-born babies in Bethlehem answering to that description!).
Whereupon a heavenly choir appears, filling the night sky with awesome light
and the sound of glorious singing. It doesn’t take the shepherds long to agree
to visit Bethlehem “to see this thing that has happened” (verse 15). So off
they hurry (I wonder what happened to the sheep?). And sure enough…</span></span><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There’s much to encourage us in these few verses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First</span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">: the first people to receive
the message of Jesus’ birth were low on the social scale, on the margins of
society. He wasn’t made known to the religious leaders in the temple at
Jerusalem, or to the political leaders like King Herod in his palace. His
parents were nobodies - and the news of his birth came first to nobodies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What does this have to say to us in the church today? I
speak as a pretty “middle-class” Christian belonging to a pretty middle-class
church. Well, to be middle-class is no sin! But there’s something to ponder
here. We only have to read through the New Testament to realise that the early
Christians were, many of them, slaves – lower in status even than those
shepherds.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So thanks be to God for Christians who have heard his call
to make his love known to those at the bottom of the pile, and have rolled up
their sleeves for serious action! – whether we look back to people such as
William Booth and his Salvation Army, or in our own time to those who serve as
Street Pastors, or who run food banks, or who sit with drug addicts and
alcoholics in our city centres, or who establish little Christian communities (churches
in embryo?) in run down parts of cities.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lord, forgive us if we have come to value respectability,
correctness, even doctrinal precision, rather than the practical outworking of
love!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A <i>second</i> encouragement: the first word of the angel
to the shepherds was <i>“Do not be afraid”.</i> Isn’t that precious! Certainly,
a heavenly vision of angels is likely to result in a need for a bit of
reassurance. But I fished out my heavy Bible concordance a little earlier to
discover that this same exhortation, or something very like it, occurs more
than 100 times throughout the Bible in all sorts of different situations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Religion” has often been used to instil <i>fear</i> in
people – Am I good enough?... Am I doing enough?... Am I measuring up?... Might
God be angry with me?... <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is, no doubt, a time and place for such questions - sin
certainly needs to be “called out”, to use a current in-word. But let us never
forget that the first word is one of love and reassurance: “I bring you <i>good
news</i> that will cause <i>great joy</i>…”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Am I living a life of good news? Is my church a community
of great joy? If not, are they worthy of the description “Christian”?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We never meet those shepherds again in the Bible, so we
have no idea what became of them. But perhaps a day will come when we will meet
them in heaven, and they will tell us their full, joyful story…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, thank you that your great desire is not
to crush us but to lift us up, not to condemn us but to forgive us. May even my
everyday life convey something of the good news and the great joy which can be
ours in Christ. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-53943916782455704892023-12-12T15:35:00.000+00:002023-12-12T15:35:02.051+00:00All about bruised reeds and smouldering wicks<p><b style="background-color: white;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">A bruised reed he will not break,</span></i></b></p><p style="background: white;"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">and
a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.</span></span></i></b><span class="text"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Matthew 12:20<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">My, we Christians can be a pretty <i>quarrelsome</i>
lot, can’t we?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Look back over two thousand years
of church history and what do you find? Answer: splits and splinters, arguments
and wars (sometimes literal, sometimes theological), massive fallings-out,
hatreds, even killings. True, there’s been a lot of wonderful stuff as well –
let’s not be ashamed to highlight that fact - but there’s no doubt that
divisions, factions and enmities are often what catch the eye. Oh dear! How
alien this is to the spirit of Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Matthew 12:20 gives us a strange
but rather beautiful description of his personality, and the way he went about
his ministry. Matthew tells us that he wasn’t interested in “breaking bruised
reeds” or “snuffing out smouldering wicks”. That’s a striking turn of phrase!
What does it mean?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Matthew is in fact borrowing words
from Isaiah 42:1-4, where the prophet speaks about the mysterious figure called
“the servant of the Lord”, a figure whom the early church couldn’t help but
identify with Jesus of Nazareth - once his first followers had witnessed him
proclaiming the kingdom of God, healing the sick and even raising the dead, it
became apparent to them that this was indeed the fulfilment of Isaiah’s
prophecy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">It’s worth quoting the Isaiah
passage more fully, putting the part about reeds and wicks back where it belongs…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">… Jesus withdrew from that place. A
large crowd followed him, and he healed all who were ill. He warned them not to
tell others about him. This was to fulfil what was spoken through the prophet
Isaiah:<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Here is my servant whom I have
chosen,</span></i></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">the one I
love, in whom I delight.</span></i></span><br />
<span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I will put my Spirit upon him,</span></i></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">and he will
proclaim justice to the nations.</span></i></span><br />
<span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">He will not quarrel or cry out;</span></i></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">no one will
hear his voice in the streets. <o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">A bruised reed he will not break,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">and a smouldering
wick he will not snuff out,</span></span><br />
<span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">till he has brought justice through to victory.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In his name the nations will put
their hope.”</span></i></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There’s a lot one could draw from
that passage, but what strikes me is the way it spotlights Jesus’ quiet manner.
He didn’t “quarrel” or “cry out” or “raise his voice in the streets”. He was no
ranter or blusterer. In terms of our modern world, he wasn’t the kind of person
to take to social media in order to fling out angry, ignorant or vicious
opinions. (Might there be a word there for some of us?)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Certainly, there were times he
could be quite ferociously outspoken; witness his disputes with the scribes and
Pharisees (Matthew 23:13-36). But that was a blast against hypocrisy, which he
detested, and could find no excuse for (might that too be a word for some of us?).
The words of the old children’s hymn, “Gentle Jesus, meek and mild”, though perhaps
rather sentimental, are still worth pondering.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Going back to the bruised reed and
the smouldering wick, they are a clear reminder that <i>not all Bible truth is
literal truth</i>. They are figures of speech, “metaphors”, like so much else
in the Bible, and they serve to illustrate something far more important. After
all, as I said earlier, Jesus had no particular interest in reeds, bruised or
otherwise, or in wicks, smouldering or otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">To me, the bruised reed is the
broken person: the person who has suffered great pain or injustice, and who
can’t imagine ever getting over it. Perhaps it’s because of marriage or other
relationship hurts; perhaps injustice at work; perhaps a major disappointment;
perhaps being let down by a once-friend; perhaps serious illness, whether
physical or mental; perhaps some kind of addiction. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Whatever, you sometimes hear people
say, “I felt as if I had been tossed on the scrap-heap”. In which case the
message is good news: Whatever this big, brash, go-getting world may do to you,
however much it may despise and dismiss you, <i>Jesus never tosses anybody on
the scrap-heap</i>; he works to comfort, mend and heal. If I may put words into
his mouth, he says, “<i>I</i> still value you; I still have a meaning and
purpose for your life;<i> </i>I will never leave you or forsake you; I will
never give up on you; trust in me”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And the smouldering wick? I see
this as the person who is, to use an in- phrase, “burnt out”. No energy,
enthusiasm or motivation; just dragging him or herself from one wearisome duty
to another: only half alive, if that. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
candle-flame guttering just before extinction is a perfect illustration of this
kind of person. And to them is given the promise of Jesus: “I have come that
they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). As if to say: I have
come to patiently nurse that dying flame back to life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">If anyone reading this is in this
kind of situation, all I can do is urge you: Remember the bruised reed… remember
the smouldering wick… And turn your face to the gentle, quiet, loving face of
Jesus!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Lord
Jesus, thank you that you don’t cast us off when we are beaten by the pressures
of life or even when we give way to sin. Thank you that you offer us
forgiveness, new life, new hope, and never-failing love. Help me to live in the
light of that love. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-854642116102253532023-12-08T14:08:00.000+00:002023-12-08T14:08:00.251+00:00Two happy women<p> <span class="text"><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">At that time Mary got ready
and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea,</span></i></b></span><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> <span class="text"><sup>40 </sup>where
she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth.</span> <span class="text"><sup>41 </sup>When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby
leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit.</span> <span class="text"><sup>42 </sup>In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you
among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!</span> <span class="text"><sup>43 </sup>But why am I so favoured, that the mother of my
Lord should come to me?</span> <span class="text"><sup>44 </sup>As
soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped
for joy.</span> <span class="text"><sup>45 </sup>Blessed is she who has
believed that the Lord would fulfil his promises to her!” </span></span></i></b><span class="text"><b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Luke 1:39-45</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I find it
hard to read this little passage without smiling. It’s just such a <i>happy</i>
episode, and if sheer happiness doesn’t make us smile, well, something is wrong
indeed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mary, young
and fit, and no doubt flushed from her walk, comes bustling into the home of
Elizabeth and gives her a loud greeting. Elizabeth - not so young and not so
fit! – perhaps hoists herself out of her chair to return the greeting, and as
she does so she feels the child in her womb, John the Baptist-to-be, give a
lively kick. She interprets this sudden movement as her baby greeting Mary’s,
womb to womb. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">John is to be
the forerunner and herald of Jesus the Messiah in thirty years’ time, and here
they are, depicted as starting to get to know one another, so to speak.
Wonderful! Are you smiling too?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Various great
truths emerge…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First, <i>we
never know when God is going to do something new.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The people of
Israel had long been promised a Messiah, a King - indeed, the King of kings.
But why precisely <i>now</i>? And why precisely <i>here</i>, in “the hill
country of Judea” - as we might put it, “out in the sticks”? It’s been a long,
hard wait, centuries long, in fact. But now it’s coming to an end.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">From which
the simple lesson is: <i>never give up on God. </i>We never know when he will
spring a surprise; it may be in bleak and unpromising times. He is always
there, even if sometimes he seems to be hiding behind the scenes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Second, <i>God
has a wonderful habit of using very ordinary people.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The fact that
Elizabeth was a priest’s wife didn’t make her particularly special – the
priesthood was something a man was born into, not something he “qualified” for.
And as for Mary herself, we know next to nothing about her except that she had
“found favour with God” (Luke 1:30). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, God can
take the most ordinary human material and do the most extraordinary things with
it: think David the shepherd boy (1 Samuel 16); or Hannah, the barren wife (1
Samuel 1-2); or Amos the shepherd and mere “tender of sycamore-fig trees” (Amos
7:14); or Simon Peter, whose only talent was for pulling fish out of the sea.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">God loves to
take and use the “humble and lowly”. So why not you, or me? Lord, help me to be
of use to you this very day, even if it is cold and wet and grey!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Third, <i>it’s
a story about humility.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We don’t know
how old Elizabeth was, or how exactly she was related to Mary, but Luke 1:36
describes her as “in her old age”, so she was certainly far senior to Mary. Yet
instead of feeling in any way jealous or put out by what God was choosing to do
through the younger woman, she delights to rejoice with her, and humbles
herself with the question, “Why am I so favoured, that the mother of my Lord
should come to me?” As if to say, I don’t deserve this!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The fact that
Mary is putting her in the shade – taking centre-stage in God’s great drama –
is neither here nor there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This poses a
challenge: How good am I at delighting in the success or blessings of others?
Somone outshines me, perhaps somebody far younger: do I feel stirrings of
jealousy deep down inside? A well-known novelist once said, “Every time a
friend succeeds, something in me dies”. Oh, you poor, cramped, bitter little
man! (Or could that be me…?)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fourth, <i>the
euphoria of that special day was not a permanent state.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As we read on
in the Gospels we find that for both Elizabeth and Mary there would be tears
aplenty ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We aren’t
told how long Elizabeth had to live; it seems unlikely that she would have survived
long enough to see John launched on his strange career, with his camel-hair
robe and weird diet and his habit of disappearing off into desert places
(Matthew 3). But it seems unlikely that as he grew up he wouldn’t have exhibited
signs of what may have seemed quite troubling eccentricity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And as for
Mary… What pain and frantic anxiety she must have felt that time when, as a
12-year-old boy, Jesus went missing in Jerusalem for three days (Luke 2:41-52).
(One of our sons, when he was little, did a runner on us in a garden centre
which may have lasted ten minutes, if that; it still brings me out in a sweat.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then that
time when word was going round that Jesus had gone crazy, and Mary had to send
other sons to fetch him home - only to hear him almost seem to disown them
(Mark 4:20-34).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not to
mention the cross… “Near the cross of Jesus <i>stood his mother</i>…” (John
19:25). Just imagine that for a few seconds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All a long,
long way from that glorious encounter between Mary and Elizabeth that we
started with.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Faith in
Christ crucified and risen promises joys without limit and without end. But the
experience of these two women makes very clear that there may be many tears
along the way. May God help us to bear them with faith and glad endurance!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><b><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dear
Father in heaven, thank you for the beautiful encounter between Mary and
Elizabeth on that memorable day. Thank you too for the times I have known highs
in my spiritual life. Help me to remember them, to cherish them, and to build
upon them – but also to know that, wonderful though they were, they are nothing
compared with the eternal glories to come. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-68092369790495639332023-11-30T10:24:00.000+00:002023-11-30T10:24:53.855+00:00Thinking about dying?<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To me, to live is Christ, to die is gain. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Philippians
1:21 (NIV)</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Alive, I’m Christ’s messenger; dead, I’m his
bounty. Life versus even more life! I can’t lose. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Philippians
1:21 (The Message)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There was a report in the paper recently that funerals are going
out of fashion in Britain. It seems that more than 50% of people are opting for
“direct cremation” (whatever that may mean), rather than more traditional
ceremonies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Two main reasons for this trend are suggested. First,
expense: full-blown funerals and cremations are not cheap. And second, a
general decline both in religious faith and also, presumably, in any sense of a
need for a formal farewell for the person who has died.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fair enough. As a minister, I have always felt
uncomfortable when asked to conduct a funeral by, or for, people I don’t know.
It’s hard to do so with any great warmth and - putting it bluntly – it can
easily trigger the rather nasty thought, “If you’ve been happy to live without
God, then be prepared to die without him”. Putting that a little more kindly: have
the courage of your own <i>un</i>convictions!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There are two problems with that. For one thing, it seems
harsh and judgmental; after all, I don’t know for sure about that person, and
who am I to judge anyway? And second, the words of a Christian funeral, spoken
clearly and with conviction, are extremely powerful: am I therefore spurning an
opportunity to present the gospel of Christ crucified and risen?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Whatever, there’s no getting away from the fact that matters
of life and death are real and meaningful to most people - and that those of us
who profess faith in Christ do indeed have something positive, challenging and comforting
to say.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I personally have been doing a bit of thinking about it all
recently – partly, perhaps, because of the grimness of the covid crisis, but
also, I’m sure, because I have become increasingly conscious myself of getting
old. It’s a bit sobering when you realise that your last birthday took you
nearer to 80 than 70!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My wife and I chat about it, not sombrely, indeed sometimes
jokingly, and of course against the background of a faith built and nurtured
over many years. The verse I have quoted at the top, Philippians 1:21, has
become a favourite for us; the <i>Message</i> translation is quite free, but I
think it well reflects Paul’s great confidence: <i>“Alive, I’m Christ’s
messenger; dead, I’m his bounty. Life versus even more life! I can’t lose”. </i>That
changes everything!<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If we ask ourselves the question “Am I ready to go?”, the
honest answer of the Christian is likely to be that old stand-by “Yes, and no”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, in that we are, by faith, “in Christ”, to use a
favourite expression of the New Testament: our sins are forgiven and his
resurrection life has been gifted to us. We have become part of him. All is
well.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But no, in that we may feel we still have a lot of living
to do! – people to go on loving, work to go on doing, things to go on enjoying
and learning about. Life is good! – at least for those of us who are privileged
to be relatively free of the poverty, war, pain, sickness and hardship that
blight the lives of so many millions. Even we have to tell ourselves firmly
that, however good life may be for us, what we are to inherit after death is
indescribably better.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Does the Bible offer us any guidance regarding funeral
customs? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not really. God’s Old Testament people were certainly
unafraid to give vent to their grief, but beyond that there is little to
satisfy our curiosity. One example is the burial of Abner, killed by David’s
right hand man Joab but very publicly mourned by David (2 Samuel 3): “King
David himself walked behind the bier. They buried Abner in Hebron, and the king
wept aloud at Abner’s tomb…” He even sang a “lament” for him (verses 33-34).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The New Testament offers us just one “funeral” (that of
Jesus, of course, doesn’t count!). In Acts 6-8 we read about the witness and
martyrdom of Stephen, stoned to death by an angry crowd. In 6:2 we read very
simply: “Godly men buried Stephen and mourned deeply for him”. No details at
all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That little verse sums up perfectly the twofold nature of
any kind of Christian funeral. First, a profound hope of eternal life – those
early believers would have been in no doubt where Stephen had gone! But second,
a frank recognition of the great sadness which inevitably accompanies death,
especially a cruelly premature one. No stiff upper lips, please!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Those of us privileged to conduct such services should plan
and pray that both those strands might be clearly reflected.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Of course, what really matters is not so much services and
ceremonies once a death has taken place, but the nature of the life that has
gone before. As Christians we seek, of course, to <i>live well </i>– but should
we not also strive, as earlier generations of Christians did, to <i>die well</i>?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And what does dying well mean? What else but dying in
childlike faith, in solid hope, in glad obedience, and in firm allegiance to
Christ who lived, died, and rose again? Loving Father, grant me grace so to
die!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, thank you that your Son lived a perfect
life, died a perfect death, and rose victorious from the grave. Thank you that
that changes everything. Help me to live day by day in the light of this
greatest of all truths, to be a light to all who know me, and to come to that
day when I shall see Jesus as he is in glory. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-40790694547413287182023-11-23T16:29:00.001+00:002023-11-23T16:29:48.460+00:00A person of many moods<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sing the praises of the Lord, you his faithful
people; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favour
lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the
morning. When I felt secure, I said, ‘I shall never be shaken’. Lord, when you
favoured me, you made my royal mountain stand firm; but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed… You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth
and clothed me with joy… </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Psalm 30</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit
before a fall.</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Proverbs 16:18<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I think Psalm 30 is one of the most interesting and nourishing
of the psalms, even though it’s only twelve verses long. Why? Because it
travels through <i>a variety of moods</i>, from fear and misery to sheer joy
and delight. (I’ve only quoted a handful of verses – please take a moment to
soak it up as a whole.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just look at the way the psalmist describes what has been
going on in his life…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He is like somebody rescued from the sea, “lifted out of
the depths” (verse 1), “brought up from the realm of the dead” (verse 3). Has
he had a serious bout of illness? – verse 2 certainly suggests so. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He has felt rejected by God himself, indeed, that God has
been “angry” with him (verse 5). Do you remember times, perhaps as a child,
when you felt the cold blast of an adult’s anger?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He has cried out to God, perhaps as never before (verse 2).
He has even gone so far as to imagine that God’s arm can be twisted: “What is
gained if I am silenced, if I go down to the pit?” (verse 9), as if to say, “Come
on, Lord, it really doesn’t reflect very well on you if I, known as one of your
children, should be allowed to go right under!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Grim times indeed. I wonder if you can identify with that
today? If so, be assured you are not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But now notice the wonderful change of key…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">God has “lifted him out of the depths…”; he has not let his
enemies “gloat over him” (verse 1). He has been rescued, vindicated!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Certainly, he has known tears – “weeping” has “lasted
through the night”, but he has made the wonderful discovery that “rejoicing
comes in the morning” (verse 5). Yes, his “wailing has been turned into
dancing”; and God has “removed his sackcloth and clothed him with joy” (verses
11-12). A new, bright dawn has arrived. (If you have a <i>Good News</i>
translation of the Bible, take a look at the drawing under Psalm 150 – I like
to think our psalmist is that chap on the left, really giving it everything
he’s got…)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So… a man who has found God in a whole new way and who
can’t contain his joy; and a psalm for us to squirrel away for when the dark
times come. Make a note!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ve skimmed over the whole psalm; but I’ve left out one of
its most important features: the writer also gives us <i>an insight into what
went wrong</i>, and what led to his misery. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our moods of course can swing quite violently from day to
day, very often through no particular fault of our own. But here it seems that,
putting it briefly, a particular sin had got a grip on the writer; he had had a
bit of an arrogance problem: “When I felt secure, I said, ‘I shall never be
shaken’. Lord, when you favoured me, you made my royal mountain stand firm; but
when you hid your face, I was dismayed…” (verses 6-7). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You can only admire his honesty, can’t you? He thought he
had everything sorted out, and was, presumably, feeling pretty pleased with
himself – “I’m all right, Jack” - but as he looks back and reflects, he is
humble enough to pour his thoughts into this poem, and then to allow it to go
public.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If the title, “Of David”, which has been added to the psalm,
is in fact correct – and it very well could be – then we are looking at one of
the characteristics that made this flawed, imperfect man so attractive: he was
deeply humble and always willing to admit his faults.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the most dramatic and disturbing episodes in David’s
life was his adultery with Bathsheba and his murder of her husband, Uriah the
Hittite. Nathan the prophet catches David out and confronts him with his sin.
What does he do? Make excuses? Try and wriggle out of his responsibility? Laugh
it off? Claim that, well, this is the way powerful kings behave – helping
themselves to whatever women they like, thank you very much? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No. According to 2 Samuel 12:13: “David said to Nathan, ‘I
have sinned against the Lord’”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just that. No ifs, no buts. A beautiful simplicity. Yes, David
was capable of great sin, but capable too of frank, open confession. Is this a
word for some of us?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We who claim to follow Christ can easily slip into pride,
arrogance, self-assurance, over-confidence, call it what you like. <i>We</i>
have done well! <i>We</i> are successful! <i>We</i> are king of the castle! <i>Our</i>
church is the biggest, the best-known, the most influential, the most
doctrinally correct, the most Spirit-filled. We’re all right, Jack. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Until one day we discover that we aren’t. Perhaps, for us
as for the writer of Psalm 30, a helping of humble pie might be just what we
need. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or perhaps the stark warning of the apostle Paul: “If you
think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!” (1 Corinthians
10:12). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s only a matter of time, be clear about that…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, please forgive me for the proud,
arrogant spirit that so often hides behind a smiling face. Bring me low, so
that in time I will be lifted high in Christ. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-1068322471351658032023-11-17T16:08:00.000+00:002023-11-17T16:08:06.484+00:00Jesus and the children<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People were also bringing babies to Jesus for
him to place his hands on them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them.
But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the children come to me,
and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these”. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Luke
18:15-16</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It used to vaguely bother me when evangelists stressed the
importance of winning converts while they were still young. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was in a meeting once when the speaker asked us to raise
our hands in groups according to what age we were when we came to faith in
Christ. I can’t now remember the numbers with any precision, but it was
something like this… Below ten? – just a smattering. Ten to sixteen? – quite a
forest of hands went up (including mine). Sixteen to twenty-one? – again, a
significant number. After that? – just ones and twos.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what was it that troubled me? Well, that break-down might
seem to imply that Christianity is a faith for the immature or gullible. Not,
of course, that the speaker intended such a suggestion – he was, after all,
himself a Christian evangelist! - but it could be taken that way by people
opposed to “religion” in general, and Christianity in particular: Oh, it’s a
need you grow out of as you develop into adulthood, like believing in Father
Christmas. Clever, sophisticated, <i>experienced</i> people don’t get taken in
by all that religious stuff! The message seemed to be “Grab ‘em young, or the
chances are you won’t grab ‘em at all”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On the face of it there is some truth in such statistics. The
majority of new converts do indeed seem to be younger people: as I look back
over my 40-plus years of ministry, what I might call “elderly converts” are few
and far between (though I do particularly remember with a smile the baptism of a
couple of sprightly, jolly, 80-plus ladies).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The answer to that feeling of being “vaguely bothered” is,
of course, the story of Jesus welcoming the children and rebuking the
disapproving disciples. It’s a story important enough to appear in each of
Matthew, Mark and Luke. But Luke has a tiny detail the others don’t have. In
Matthew and Mark we are told that unspecified people (presumably the parents)
were bringing their children to Jesus. But Luke goes out of his way to tell us
that <i>Jesus himself</i> “called the children to him": in other words, he
didn’t just <i>allow</i> them to be brought, he actively invited them himself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And then follow those beautiful - and very challenging -
words: “… the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone
who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter
it” (Luke 18:15-17).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jesus didn’t focus on children only because of their
innocence and receptiveness, but because they model the attitude with which we
all need to come to God, whether we are nine or ninety. Remember that prayer he
once prayed: “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have
hidden these things from the wise and learned, and <i>revealed them to little
children</i>” (Matthew 11:25).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Remember too his rebuke of other adults disapproving of
noisy children (they were joining in the traditional Jewish shout, “Hosanna to
the Son of David”): “Yes,” says Jesus, “but have you never read, ‘from the lips
of children and infants you, Lord, have called forth your praise’” (Matthew
21:14-16).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How beautiful such passages are! Children aren’t receptive
to Jesus mainly because they are naïve and gullible, but because they bring
with them into this world an instinctive openness to spiritual realities and
other precious things you can’t measure. Putting it another way: they haven’t
yet learned to be jaded, cynical and twisted – something that so easily happens
to us as we grow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In other words: the responsible Christian evangelist (parent,
teacher, preacher) working with children is not exploiting their naivety; he or
she is feeding and nurturing a natural appetite that the “adult” world,
tragically, has lost sight of. They need our prayers, our support and our
respect – especially given that the openness of children leaves them vulnerable
also, of course, to false ideas.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I said, my hand went up in the 11-16 category. I
sometimes wonder how things might have turned out for me if my undramatic
little conversion had not happened when I was a spotty 15-year old. Perhaps I
would have embarked on a life of crime and become enormously rich!… or
discovered a talent for music and had a career to match Beethoven or the
Beatles!… or developed my stellar sporting ability and ended up opening the batting
for England!... <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or perhaps not. Just slipped into a typical conventional
life, more likely. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">True, it might have been exciting to have a spectacular
conversion experience in, say, my fifties. But how much then to unlearn! How
much damage to clear up! How much time to reclaim! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No - there’s a lot to be said for a life as a
run-of-the-mill Baptist minister! No regrets; oh, no regrets! Thank you, Lord,
for calling me young!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Thank you, Father, for the wonderful gift of
children. And thank you for those adults who are specially gifted in teaching
and nurturing them in Christ. Especially when it seems a hard and thankless
task, please reassure them that their work is not in vain. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-69563537712095726922023-11-13T16:38:00.000+00:002023-11-13T16:38:09.361+00:00A big ask!<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold
and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I prefer to appeal to you on the
basis of love… </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Philemon 8-9</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wonder how Philemon felt when he received this short
letter from the apostle Paul? (Please take a minute to read it right through;
it’s only 25 verses.) Still more, I wonder if he actually did what Paul asked
of him?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To get the background, let’s ask a few questions…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First, <i>who was Philemon?</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In verse 1 he is described as “our dear friend and
fellow-worker”, suggesting that at some time he had been a member of Paul’s
missionary team.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In verse 2 we learn that he and his wife (assuming that’s
who Apphia is) host a church in their home in Colossae. (Was Archippus their
son?)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The letter as a whole suggests that he was a well-to-do
citizen of Colossae: for one thing, his house is big enough to accommodate a
church; for another, he is a slave-owner.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In verses 4-6 it becomes clear that Paul values him very
highly as a fellow-Christian; very likely he was one of the church’s leaders.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Second, <i>what has occurred to bring about this letter?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Reading between the lines, Paul, who is in prison (probably
in Rome), has met a runaway slave of Philemon, a man called Onesimus. Verses
17-19 suggest (we can’t be sure) that as well as running away he helped himself
to a bit of loose cash as he did so, thus compounding his offence. Perhaps
Onesimus met Paul by chance as a fellow-prisoner; or perhaps, having already
heard about him, he made a point of looking out for him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Whatever, and this is the key point: <i>under Paul’s
influence Onesimus has become a Christian</i> – Paul says he “became my son
while I was in chains” (verse 10).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And now, lo and behold, here he is back in Philemon’s
house, clutching this letter – a letter in which Paul makes it very clear to
Philemon that he expects him to receive Onesimus back, and with a massive
proviso: <i>“no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother…
in the Lord”</i> (verse 16).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As the letter unfolds, Paul puts considerable pressure on
Philemon: in effect, “You will do as I ask, won’t you, Philemon – you won’t
turn down the request of a poor old man banged up in prison, pleading on behalf
of a young wastrel who has come to trust in Jesus and whom I have come to love
as my very own son?” Some scholars have virtually accused Paul of emotional
blackmail and, while perhaps that’s going a bit far, you can see their point
(see verses 8-21)!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So back to the question I started with: how did Philemon
react when he read this letter?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- and,
presumably, found himself looking down his nose at this woe-begone young man?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We can only guess, given that we know so little about the
kind of man Philemon was.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I certainly would suspect that he was shocked: “Treat one
of my slaves as a brother in Christ? You cannot be serious!” We need to bear in
mind that in the Roman empire at that time slavery was part and parcel of
everyday life. Today, of course, we see it as a great evil, but at that time
even the church hadn’t yet worked out that it was wrong. The question wasn’t
“Am I all right to be a slave-owner?” but “Given that I <i>am</i> a
slave-owner, what <i>kind</i> of slave-owner should I be?” (In Colossians 4:1
and Ephesians 6:9 Paul makes clear what he felt about that.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Philemon might have been quite angry (even fine Christians
can be angry, rightly or wrongly; have you noticed?). “What a cheek! How dare
Paul tell me what to do with my own slaves? I paid good money for that wretched
man Onesimus…”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But I imagine that Paul was the kind of man you didn’t
easily say No to! - and that, however uneasily, Onesimus was indeed reinstated
in Philemon’s household. I wonder if he sat next to him in church the following
Sunday? Some serious readjustment must have been required...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A simple point emerges from this little drama: Becoming a
follower of Jesus is a wonderful thing, in fact, the most wonderful thing we will
ever do; but, make no mistake, we may end up getting a lot more than we bargained
for. Did Jesus’ fishermen-disciples ever have an inkling that their response to
his call would lead to far-off travel and even imprisonment or death?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Do we sometimes overlook the fact that Jesus was always
keen to point out the need to <i>count the cost</i> of following him? – and
that “taking up your cross” wasn’t just a fancy metaphor but, for many, a
gruesome reality. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Being a Christian isn’t a hobby or a Sunday pastime. It’s
all or nothing. As the hymn puts it, “Love so amazing, so divine, demands my
soul, my life, my all.” Or as the psalmist didn’t quite say: “Serve the Lord
with gladness – or don’t bother to serve him at all”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So… Did Philemon receive Onesimus back “as a dear brother”?
We aren’t told. And there is a reason for that: because what matters now is not
what <i>Philemon</i> did or didn’t do, but what <i>you</i> do, what <i>I</i>
do…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, please help me! I don’t like the idea
of sacrifice, and I do like security and comfort. But I want also to be a true
follower of Jesus. Help me to accept his call with full seriousness, not
counting the cost, and give me the faith to trust that in the end the sacrifice
will be a source of great joy. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-84116183570176669982023-11-03T15:24:00.000+00:002023-11-03T15:24:21.684+00:00From glory to glory!<p><b><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">And we all, who
with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into
his image from glory to glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. </span></i></b><b><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">2 Corinthians 3:18</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A book I was reading recently made a novel suggestion: if
we are Christians we are not just human <i>beings</i>; we are human <i>becomings</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once I had worked out what the writer meant I thought, Clever!
But it’s not just a witty trick with words, for it conveys a real – and very
important – truth. <i>To be a follower of Jesus is to be in a constant process
of change, a process of transformation, of becoming.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Of course, you could say that that is true of literally
everybody, Christian or not. We get older (though not necessarily wiser). We
put on weight (or possibly lose it). We learn things, whether by focussed study
or by daily experience. We develop wrinkles and grey hairs. Our moods vary. Everybody
changes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But that isn’t what the book I was reading meant. No, it
meant what the apostle Paul is driving at in this meaty, thought-provoking
verse at the end of 2 Corinthians 3: “we all… are being transformed into his
[that is, Christ’s] image from glory to glory…”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To get the background, you need to go to Exodus 33-34 in
the Old Testament. Putting it very briefly (and a little over-simply), Moses
has a vision of God on Mount Sinai, and when he comes back down the mountain
“he was not aware that his face was radiant because he had spoken with the
Lord” (Exodus 34:29). His face, it seems, literally shone. That was wonderful,
of course; but unfortunately it frightened the people and they kept their
distance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Moses’ solution to the problem was to put a veil over his
face – but of course this was not necessary when he went back “into the
presence of the Lord” (this is all summarised in Exodus 34:29-35).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Going back to 2 Corinthians 3, Paul compares himself with
Moses. Just as Moses brought God’s word down the mountain “engraved in letters
on stone” – the words of the law which could only lead to death, yet which also
brought “glory” - <i>how much more </i>(he says<i>)</i> will <i>my</i> ministry
through the Spirit bring glory! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Paul also draws attention to a small but vitally important
difference from the Exodus story: it’s summed up in that little word “all”: “we
<i>all</i>… with unveiled faces, contemplate the Lord’s glory…” Moses, in his
day, was the only person who saw the glory of God direct – but Paul makes no
such claim for himself, nor does he want to. No, <i>every</i> Christian, “we
all”, has this privilege; for to see Jesus is to see the very glory of God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And how can we possibly see the glory of God in the
crucified and risen Christ without being changed! That’s what the book I was
reading meant when it said we aren’t just human <i>beings</i>; we are human <i>becomings</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Let’s bring it down to earth… <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Do you see yourself as “a work in progress”, or as “a
finished article”? - as static (I might even use the word stagnant), or as
developing day by day? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We sometimes excuse our bad or indifferent behaviour with
the thought, “Well, sorry, but that’s just the way I am”, or “I’m afraid it’s
too late for me to change”. We may not actually say that, but that’s the truth.
And it’s a sad truth, a defeatist truth, a truth that conflicts with Christian
faith altogether, and which dishonours God. The person who says, for example,
“Yes, I know I’ve got a bit of a short temper”, needs to be challenged, not
tolerated: “Isn’t it high time that you worked on lengthening it a bit, then?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jesus didn’t suffer and die on the cross in order to tidy
us up a touch, perhaps make us little bit more outwardly respectable. No, he
died on the cross in order to make us into <i>new people</i>, to slowly but
surely make us fit for the glory of heaven itself. Nothing less than that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I saw a poster some time ago that somebody had stuck on the
wall: “Be patient. God hasn’t finished with me yet!” I couldn’t help but smile
– a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nice blend, I thought, of humour,
humility and thoroughly good theology. I think it sums up 2 Corinthians 3:18
pretty well: God indeed hasn’t finished with us yet; that process of
transformation is a daily, ongoing thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So why not take a few minutes to ask ourselves: in what
areas of my life is change needed? Why not jot down a little list of areas
where I know I fall short, and pray over it regularly? A bad habit, perhaps,
that I have always been meaning to break, but never managed to? A new sphere of
service that, deep down, I sense God is calling me to, but which I am putting
off? A more determined discipline of prayer and Bible-reading? A more positive,
cheerful spirit, to replace a tendency to cynicism or grumpiness? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We may not see immediate results, but a serious intention
can set us moving in the right direction. We begin to grasp the reality of Charles
Wesley’s truly great hymn: “Changed from glory into glory,/ Till in heaven we
take our place,/ Till we cast our crowns before Thee,/ Lost in wonder, love,
and praise”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes! What a day that will be! As 1John 3:2 puts it: “We
shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, I confess that I am a pretty
earth-bound, not-very-special follower of Jesus. Please stir me up by your
Spirit so that day by day I really do move from glory to glory, and so bring me
to that greatest day of all when I really shall see him as he is. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A note for the technically-minded: That word “contemplate”
could, just possibly, be translated “reflect”. In other words, the Christian
doesn’t just <i>see</i> the glory of Jesus, but <i>makes it seen</i> by others.
Jesus said, “Let your light shine before others…”<o:p></o:p></span></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-29227517417690717302023-10-30T16:39:00.001+00:002023-10-30T16:39:43.943+00:00A holy hatred? (2)<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did on the
day Jerusalem fell. ‘Tear it down,’ they cried, ‘tear it down to its
foundations!’ Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who
repays you according to what you have done to us. Happy is the one who seizes
your infants and dashes them against the rocks. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Psalm
137:7-9</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Last time I offered a couple of thoughts that might help us
as we try to come to terms with the shocking end of Psalm 137. <i>First</i>,
don’t sugar it over – it’s there in scripture and must be taken at face value.
And <i>second</i>, keep in mind that outbursts of emotion are rarely the final
word in fraught situations. Psalm 137:7-9 is, so to speak, merely a snapshot in
a still-moving sequence of events – it is not given to us to justify a spirit
of vengefulness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The <i>third</i> thought, the one that I didn’t have space
for, is: <i>bear in mind that there is a difference between hatred and malice
on the one hand, and a desire for justice on the other.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Hatred and malice are always wrong, whatever the
circumstances; a desire for justice is always right, because justice is precious
to God. If, in these verses, we make allowance for the understandable passion
of the moment, can we not say that the psalmist is in fact pleading for justice
rather than thirsting for revenge? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Is that wishful thinking on my part? I hope not! Bear with
me, please…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Regarding the Edomites, let’s not fail to notice that verse
7 is, in essence, a <i>prayer </i>to God himself: “Remember, Lord, what the
Edomites did, on the day Jerusalem fell…” The writer doesn’t curse the
Edomites, but prays that true justice – God’s justice – will be brought to bear
on them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">It’s as if he is saying, “Lord, you know how I feel about
the Edomites and their malice and gloating on that terrible day. Well, there’s
nothing I can do to sort them out! But what I can do is to leave them in your
hands, and simply pray that you, who are perfectly just, will do what I can’t
do”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Even in relation to the cruel Babylonians, he doesn’t see
himself as personally enjoying the experience of “getting his own back”. He is,
once again, pleading for justice in the God-given form of “eye for eye and
tooth for tooth” – “according to what they have done to us” - gruesome though
that is in this particular case. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Happy is the one who repays you…” he cries out to the
Babylonians. Who precisely he has in mind by “the one who repays you” isn’t
entirely clear, but I like to think that that too is in fact a reference to God
himself. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">In a word, if the white heat of rage has already cooled
somewhat, perhaps he has reached the point of saying, “Well, now it’s in the
hands of God, and I must do my best to leave it just there”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">In our fallen world, this may be the best we can hope for
in all sorts of situations. After the fall of apartheid in South Africa a
“Truth and Reconciliation Commission” was set up to try and deal justly with
the backlog of anger and hatred that it had left behind. The Commission knew
its limitations… Did it deliver a completely harmonious society? - of course it
didn’t. Was every wrong righted? – of course not. But better, surely, to edge
towards some kind of harmony than to allow bitter enmity to fester. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Why not pray for a similar thing today for Israel and Gaza
once the immediate horrors are over? True, it’s hard to imagine an Israeli prime
minister and a Palestinian president joining hands in a search for a lasting
and just peace – indeed, it seems nothing less than dreaming of the impossible.
But is not our God one who works miracles? He is the one who “makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth. He breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns
the shields with fire. He says, ‘Be still and know that I am God; I will be
exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth’” (Psalm 46).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">What applies to international affairs applies also to
personal circumstances. Perhaps you or I have had an injustice done to us by
somebody. Perhaps we are nursing bitterness. Perhaps we need to recognise that
that can only poison us inwardly. Why not take a deep breath and dump our
bitterness (yes, really!) into God’s lap? “Lord, I know so-and-so will seem to
have ‘got away with it’. But so be it! I leave it with you, the perfect judge.
I trust you to deal with it with your perfect, holy judgment”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">To repeat: we can easily confuse <i>judgment</i>, a bad
thing except when in the hands of a perfect God, with <i>justice</i>, a value
precious in his eyes; as the prophet Amos put it, “Let justice roll on like a
river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24). And as God
himself has declared: <i>“I, the Lord, love justice”</i> (Isaiah 61:8).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Dear Father in heaven, I remember how Jesus
said ‘Blessed are the peace-makers’. Help me to be one of that number every day
of my life – and please hear my prayer for justice and peace in every corner of
our troubled world. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 106%;">O Lord, your tenderness,/ Melting all my bitterness,/ O
Lord, I receive your love./ O Lord, your loveliness,/ Changing all my ugliness,/
O Lord, I receive your love… Graham Kendrick<o:p></o:p></span></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8359130518551302322.post-58174095895967453892023-10-29T19:54:00.000+00:002023-10-29T19:54:18.968+00:00A holy hatred?<p><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did on the
day Jerusalem fell. ‘Tear it down,’ they cried, ‘tear it down to its
foundations!’ Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who
repays you according to what you have done to us. Happy is the one who seizes
your infants and dashes them against the rocks. </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Psalm
137:7-9</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One thing I value about the Bible is its honesty. Or
perhaps I ought to say, I <i>think</i> I do; for I must confess that I wobble a
bit when I come to passages like the end of Psalm 137. What terrible, horrible
words these are! The image of babies being smashed to pieces by marauding
soldiers leaves you just shaking your head, doesn’t it? What’s this doing in
the Bible?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Answer: being honest, that’s what. This is exactly the kind
of thing that happens in warfare, modern as well as ancient. Indeed, what drew
me back to Psalm 137 today was the news from Israel/Gaza about children being
deliberately targeted for destruction. Nothing changes when it comes to human
sinfulness, nor will it until Jesus returns, as he himself makes clear (Mark
13:7). That’s just being realistic, being honest.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The psalm as a whole moves from a mood of beautiful, sad
melancholy in verses 1-6 (“By the rivers of Babylon we sat; we wept when we
remembered Zion (Jerusalem). There on the poplars we hung our harps…”) to what
comes like a kick in the teeth in these closing verses. I find myself wishing
it had ended at verse 6.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But it didn’t, so honesty forces us to look it full in the
face and see how we can make sense of it. It is, after all, part of God’s word.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The historic background is what is usually called “the fall
of Jerusalem”, God’s city, to the Babylonians, in 587 BC: “On the seventh day
of the fifth month, in the nineteenth year of Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon,
Nebuzaradan commander of the imperial guard… came to Jerusalem. He set fire to
the temple of the Lord, the royal palace and all the houses of Jerusalem…” (2
Kings 25:8-9). And then he carted off the people into exile where, in this psalm,
we find them weeping by the rivers of Babylon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you would like to know why the Edomites also came in for
Israel’s censure (verse 7), the place to go is the little prophecy of Obadiah,
especially verses11-14.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But I think the question we need to grapple with is: How
should we as Christians respond to verses 7-9, given that they seem to exude
nothing but raw hatred, a desire for revenge, and given that this is so alien
to the spirit of Jesus, who has taught us to love and forgive our enemies?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can only speak for myself, of course, and I claim no
authority in doing so. But here are some thoughts that occur to me…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First, <i>don’t try and sugar it over</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The fact that it’s in the pages of scripture doesn’t mean
that “it’s all right, then”. The fact that the Bible <i>describes</i> such feelings
of rage and vengefulness doesn’t mean it <i>approves</i> of them! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Second, <i>remember that words spoken in the heat of
emotion are not necessarily the final word in any situation</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Which of us, having seen the horrors of the fall of
Jerusalem, not least the cruelty inflicted on children – especially perhaps if they
were <i>my</i> children! – wouldn’t feel this way? Wouldn’t something be
seriously wrong with us if we didn’t?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And similarly, who can blame people on both sides in the
Israel-Gaza fighting who have understandable reasons for longing for revenge?
Both sides have suffered injustice, whether a slow grinding injustice over
decades, or a sudden appalling shock. Or both, of course.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You and I have probably known times in life when we too have
suffered injustice, and it has left us seething with anger. Can we honestly
claim that we have brought that anger to God – indeed, to the cross – and thus
attempted to “process” it in a Christian fashion? Have we succeeded in draining
every note of bitterness from our hearts, or are we still nursing dark, ugly
secrets behind smiling faces?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The person who wrote Psalm 137 is unknown to us. But if we
were to meet him we would probably find he was no different from you or me:
that is, in great need of the grace and mercy of God in dealing with fierce but
understandable anger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There’s a third thing that needs to be said, but I’m
running out of space – so I do hope you will join me again next time…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Father, our hearts are heavy as we follow
terrible events in the middle-east and elsewhere. We pray that you will have
mercy on us all, that you will raise up men and women who are true
peace-makers, and that even through very sinful and imperfect national leaders
you will bring a measure of peace and justice. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Colin Sedgwickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15345449712632906041noreply@blogger.com0