What makes a true conversion?

When Peter saw the disciple Jesus loved, he said to him, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus replied, “...what is that to you? You follow me!” John 21:21-22.

Do you ever feel a little envious when you hear other people’s conversion stories?

There are people who can put a precise date, even an exact time, to the moment they became a Christian. They may have had a vision or some other kind of supernatural experience. Perhaps they had a dramatic healing or a special touch of the Holy Spirit - “baptism” in or with the Spirit, or speaking in tongues.

And you? Well, you certainly reached a point in your life when you decided you believed in Jesus and wanted to follow him, and that was wonderful. But it was all very gradual and undramatic. And when you hear these powerful stories you are tempted to think “Mmm - why not me?”

The message is very simple: don’t feel that way! How you came to faith really doesn’t matter; only (a) that you did, and (b) that you are still “walking humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8).

We preachers can sometimes cause problems here. 

Suppose we want to preach a really evangelistic sermon, making clear the wonder and joy of being born again. What do we do? 

Well, quite possibly we go to the story of Paul’s conversion in Acts 9. There is surely no more dramatic conversion story in the New Testament than this! - a man violently opposed to the church... a supernatural encounter with the risen Christ... a voice from heaven... a falling to the ground... a literally blinding light... humiliation... a total transformation...

This is a wonderful story, and you’d need to be a pretty naff preacher to turn it into a dull sermon. But - and this is the point - it’s a serious problem if we fail to make very clear that this is anything but a typical conversion. Ninety-nine percent of conversions just aren’t like that. So we preachers are guilty of giving a very false impression if we encourage our hearers to think they are. 

When you stop to think about it, it’s striking that, though we meet plenty of Christians in Acts and the rest of the New Testament, we know next to nothing about how they were converted.

All right, there’s the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8: converted in the middle of the desert by a strange man who appears out of nowhere and explains the Bible to him. Strange, certainly; but not remotely in the Paul-on-the-Damascus-road class. 

Likewise the Roman centurion Cornelius in Acts 10. Yes, he had a vision of an angel, but beyond that it was a case of having the facts of the gospel explained to him.

Then there’s the Philippian jailer in Acts 16: he experienced an earthquake in his personal life as shattering as the earthquake that brought his prison down around his ears. Yes again, that was certainly dramatic, but not remotely of the “supernatural” character of Acts 9. 

But what about Lydia, also in Acts 16? All we are told is that “the Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message”. What about Timothy, the young man destined to become Paul’s protégé and spiritual son? From the moment we first meet him he is simply described as “a disciple”: beyond learning that his mother was also a Christian, we are given no clue as to how he became one.

I could go on. How did Stephen, the first martyr for Jesus, become a believer? Or Ananias, Paul’s first mentor? Or dear Barnabas - “Mr Encouragement”? Or Silas, Paul’s missionary companion? Or husband and wife Aquila and Priscilla? Or Apollos? Or Philemon? Or Epaphroditus? Or Aristarchus? Or Euodia? Or Syntyche (I’m sure you remember those two)...?

I’m getting carried away! - but you get the point. 

In all these cases, along with plenty of others, we know nothing or next to nothing. Very likely their conversions were as ordinary, as low-key, as yours or mine. They heard the gospel. They believed. They were baptised and joined the church. And the rest is history.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s good to listen to conversion stories, to hear people’s testimonies. But when we do so we need to remind ourselves, “All right, so this is how Joe, or Mary, or Bill became a believer. Great. But I am not Joe or Mary or Bill. I am me. And God has dealt with me as he saw fit. And that’s all that matters.”

To repeat... the question is not “How did I become a Christian?” but “Am I, today, here and now, living a truly Christian life?”

Or, as I once heard it neatly put, what matters is not past conversion but present convertedness.

Yes?

Dear Lord, thank you for that time in my life when I first came to follow Jesus - and thank you even more that you help me to follow him still today. Amen.

Can hatred be holy?

Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord, and loathe those who rise up against you? I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies.   Psalm 139:21-2.

To me the word "hate" is one of the ugliest in the English language. (I might even go so far as to say that I, er, hate it.) It conjures up in my mind all sorts of spite, malice, anger, the very worst feelings we are capable of. Jesus, of course, is the very opposite of hate, with his great  stress on love, mercy and forgiveness. Didn't he state quite plainly that we are to "love" even "our enemies"? Surely, as Christians, we simply don't do hate?

Which makes Psalm 139 all the more difficult. It's all about the fact that God knows everything about us, even the secrets of our deepest hearts. It tells us that there is no way we can escape God - we can, as they say, run, but we can't hide. Strong, bracing stuff - it makes you think, but at least in a positive way.

But then these verses come like a kick in the teeth. How can the Psalmist say such a thing! How did these chilling words find their way into the Bible?

Some people try to excuse it on the grounds that it is Old Testament, not New. "Oh well," they say, "there's loads of anger, judgment and hatred in the Old Testament - but the New Testament is different, and that's what we Christians focus on."

But that just isn't true. Who was it who said "Love your neighbour as yourself"? Well, Jesus, of course. Wrong! It's there in the Book of Leviticus, chapter 19 verse 18 - Jesus was just quoting it. And what about Proverbs 24:17: "Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice..."?

No, there's plenty in the Old Testament about love and forgiveness (and, come to that, quite a bit in the New about judgment and God's anger). In other words, in saying what he did the Psalmist seems to have been ignoring his own scriptures.

I don't pretend I can fully explain this kind of awkward passage. Perhaps the best I can do is to share how I personally have tried to get some positives out of it.

First, let's at least give the Bible full marks for honesty. Most of us, I imagine, would never talk about hating people. But have we never felt such emotions in our hearts? Have we never wished somebody ill?

Let me come clean... I was badly cut up by a motorist once - his driving could have caused a serious accident. I found myself fervently wishing (this is your loving, Christian pastor talking) that he would wrap himself and his car around the next available lamp-post. I didn't say it, of course; oh no, I'm much too polite and proper for that. But I can't deny that the thought was there.

So while I don't feel I can, or need to, defend the Psalmist, neither can I claim to be any better. We, hypocrites that we are, can hide hateful thoughts behind smiling faces. At least this man was honest, putting into words what the rest of us only think. If nothing else, his words put us in touch with our own worst selves.

Second, I think it is correct to see these verses as primarily an expression of loyalty to God rather than an expression of personal animosity: I hate those "who hate you", he says, those "who rise up against you..."

The Psalmist is declaring which side he is on - nailing his colours to the mast, if you like. His hatred may be less than ideal - but at least he knows where he stands! He is implying: God matters! The word of God matters! It matters to be "on the Lord's side". It matters to stand against sin.

There are certain things which should make us furiously indignant. If there is such a thing as "righteous anger", may there not also be what we might call "holy hatred"?

This raises the question: As I look around me at the world and all the wickedness in it, how much do I care? Or do I just shrug my shoulders? Is it not true to say that having strong feelings - even wrong strong feelings - is better than spineless indifference or turning a blind eye?


Lord God, we remember those times when our Lord Jesus was angry. Guard us, we pray, from every hint of sinful anger. But help us too to know when anger is appropriate and right, and show us how to channel that anger for good. Amen.

The snake-like Christian

Jesus said, I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves. Matthew 10:16

I knew a church once that needed some major building work. So they found architects and builders and looked forward to the job being done quickly and well. What they didn't know was that the people they employed were, to put it bluntly, a bunch of crooks. They ended up completely ripped off - and very embarrassed.

What had gone wrong? Well, they were sincere Christians, and naively imagined that everyone would act with the same kind of honesty as they would themselves. They failed to check the credentials of the people they turned to. To borrow the language Jesus uses here, they were certainly “as innocent as doves” - but they badly failed to be “as shrewd as snakes”.

Jesus is sending his disciples out to preach the gospel in the big wide world. It's an exciting prospect, of course, but he wants them under no illusions - it will be hard and even dangerous: "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves..." They don't stand a chance! - not, that is, in their own strength. So they need (as my mother use to say) to "have their heads screwed on the right way".

In many ways it's like that for us too. The strange - and sad - thing, though, is that many of the dangers we face are likely to come not so much from the non-Christian world (they just tend to ignore us), but from the kind of false teachers and prophets that Jesus often spoke of.

All sorts of misleading messages are being offered to the unsuspecting world. Just take a look some time at the "Body, Mind and Spirit" section in your local bookshop. "New age", spiritualism, "self-improvement" - it's all there, quite apart from the false teaching of other religions such as Hinduism or Islam. Even in supposedly Christian circles there are dodgy people around.

What are the warning signs? I would suggest three questions worth asking ourselves.

First, is there an appeal for money?

It's not wrong for Christians to make financial needs known. But we need to beware when the preacher or writer gives the impression of being on the make: "Just make a donation to this organisation and God will bless you with riches in the future" - that sort of thing.

Second, is it all very personality-based?

We live in the days of the celebrity cult - pop stars, film stars, sports stars - and this has spilled over into the church. Truly “charismatic” leaders are much needed, there’s no doubt about that, but we need to be wary when glitz and glamour take the place of spiritual depth and Christ-like holiness.

Third, does the teaching strike a suspect note?

Is there some kind of novelty in what is being offered? Does it ring true with the understanding of the Bible that you have built up steadily over the years? (This reminds us, by the way, how important it is to master biblical truth! - and there is no short cut to that.)

There may, for example, be claims made on the basis of "after-death experiences", or teaching about demons and evil spirits which goes way beyond the Bible. There may be detailed predictions of Christ's second coming, or other events of the "end times", which rely on odd verses plucked out of their Bible context.

It's when we come across things like this that the warning bells should start to ring. Time to become snake-like!

Somebody might say, "But didn't Jesus tell us not to judge?" Well yes, indeed he did. And certainly we need to avoid any hint of condemning people too quickly.

But - let's put it this way - he also wants us to be discerning, wise, thoughtful, cautious. Otherwise we ourselves can fall into all sorts of attractive-looking traps, and we will end up unfit to guide others. As John puts it: “... do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1).

Is there something here that you and I need to think about?

Lord, help me to develop the discipline and determination to grow steadily in the knowledge of your word and your truth, so that I myself will not fall prey to false ideas, and so that I may be a reliable guide to others. Amen.

Who should take communion?

...anyone who eats and drinks without recognising the body eats and drinks judgment on themselves. 1 Corinthians 11:29

I can’t now remember the first time I ate bread and drank wine in remembrance of Christ’s death - “took communion” as we call it. 

In the church where I came to faith the “communion service” was separate from the main service - tacked on, really, to be honest - to allow those who didn’t feel able to share in the meal to leave. So it was quite a significant moment in your life when you first “stayed to communion”. You were making a clear statement about yourself - “I am a Christian!” - and there was a sense of belonging to a select group.

The thinking behind this was the verse I have quoted from 1 Corinthians 11. If I remember rightly that word “judgment” appeared in the King James Version as “damnation”, which was actually quite frightening. A little earlier (verse 27) Paul says that “whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord”. That was quite frightening too.

Communion, emphatically, was for believers only!

Well, things have changed enormously over the half-century since then. Communion is now generally incorporated into the service as a whole. In many churches you don’t have to be baptised, or an official church member, in order to share in the bread and wine. In some churches children are welcome to participate, at least in some form or other. The invitation to the Lord’s table is given to “all who love and trust the Lord”, with the rider that anyone is free not to participate if they feel that is more appropriate (don’t worry, no embarrassment!).

But unease is still felt in some Christian, not least Baptist, circles. The old idea of “guarding the table” holds sway in the minds of many. But it’s an idea that triggers a sequence of questions.

First, does the table in fact need “guarding”? If so, guarding from what exactly? Surely it is the people who are in danger of “eating and drinking judgment on themselves” who need guarding? - the people who eat and drink “in an unworthy manner”?

Then second, who in fact are these people? This is where many Christians have a blind spot. They don’t seem to see that the people in question are not unbelievers, non-Christians, at all! No, they are Christians, members in this case of the church in Corinth, who are coming to the Lord’s table “in an unworthy manner”.

And third, what is that “unworthy manner”? Well, according to verses 20-22, it seems to be the nasty habit of enjoying a mini-feast purely for their own pleasure, even to the extent of gluttony and drunkenness, while other members of the church are excluded. 

It is this kind of behaviour that Paul is angry about - simply nothing to do with the completely separate issue of how a non-Christian should be viewed if he or she happens to be present at a communion meal. There is no reason to think that any harm is done, either to the individual or to the church as a whole, if someone as yet outside the family of Christ participates. 

No: let’s say it again to be absolutely clear - the people who need to watch out are those who profess to be Christians but who are demeaning something sacred and holy by gross, selfish, shallow and vulgar behaviour. In other words, Christian, you; or me.

Jesus left us a meal to remember him by - a proper meal, not just a little token ritual. And it was in origin quite a normal, ordinary meal. The wonderful thing is that he proceeded to invest this ordinary meal with a new and extraordinary significance: “this is my body, broken for you... this is my blood, shed for you”. 

We who know that our sins are forgiven through that sacrifice may enjoy that privilege and pray to be more worthy of it.

And that stranger down the row who looks a bit out of place? Relax! Don’t worry! On the contrary, be glad they are there - and pray that this strange meal will be a means of God’s grace to them. Who knows - you could have a convert on your hands!

Lord Jesus, thank you for leaving us a meal to remember you by. Help me to respect and value it for my own spiritual growth, and also to see its evangelistic value for those who don’t yet believe. Amen.