The sin that leads to death

If you see any brother or sister commit a sin that does not lead to death, you should pray and God will give them life. I refer to those whose sin does not lead to death. There is a sin that leads to death. I am not saying that you should pray about that. All wrongdoing is sin, and there is sin that does not lead to death. 1John 5:16-17

If the Bible is the word of God to men and women, why does it contain things which men and women find it almost impossible to understand? (There’s no denying that this is so - just take a look at 2 Peter 3:15-16, where the Bible itself tells us that the Bible isn’t always clear!)

In our passage John draws a clear distinction between sin that “does not lead to death” and sin that does. What he says is clear enough: but what does he mean? What is this sin “that leads to death”, this “deadly” sin, for which he doesn’t recommend prayer? 

Well, the church has existed for two thousand years, and nobody yet has come up with a totally convincing answer to those questions. So I rather doubt if I, or you, are likely to do so! But it can only be good, given that this is part of God’s word, to try and make some kind of sense of it.

There are two other New Testament passages which may shed light on John’s puzzling statement.

First, there is Jesus’ word about “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 12:31-32). Says Jesus: “... every kind of sin and slander can be forgiven, but blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven.” Both Jesus here and John in 1 John 5 seem to be in agreement that there is one - and only one - “unforgivable sin”. (The idea of “seven deadly sins” is a much later invention of the church, and has no foundation in scripture.)

So far, so good. But it doesn’t really help us all that much, because it just leads to another question: what exactly did Jesus have in mind when he spoke about the blasphemy against the Spirit?

The second passage that might link with 1John 5 is Hebrews 6:4-6. The writer there is talking about the sin of “apostasy”: that is, the sin of someone who turns away from God and hardens their heart against him after having actually first come to know him. It is “impossible,” he says, for such a person to be “brought back to repentance”; they have, it seems, gone beyond the point of no return.

My own inclination is to regard the link with the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit as the more likely one. And the best way to understand what is meant both by Jesus and by John is that they are talking about a state of such spiritual deadness that all hope is gone. The person in question is so sold out to falsehood and the devil that only judgment can await them. Grim.

Three thoughts come to mind.

1. It has often been said - and rightly said - that if anyone is worried that they might have committed the “blasphemy against the Spirit”, or the “sin that leads to death”, then the very fact that they are worried is a sure sign that they haven’t. They still have a conscience; they still have a fear of God. So they obviously haven’t gone beyond the point of no return.

Let them take comfort , then, from the fact that the New Testament teems with passages where the mercy and forgiveness of God are stressed. God loves to forgive! - and there is no sin beyond the scope of that forgiveness - apart from this one tragic state of total, hard-hearted rejection.

Is this a message of comfort you need to receive today?

2. Having said that, the fact remains that sin matters. In verse 18 John writes that “anyone born of God does not continue to sin” - in other words, sin is an alien presence in the life of a Christian. 

True, we will never be totally free from sin until we are perfected in glory: but we should be fighting for a gradual victory over sin in our daily lives here on earth. The key thing is not to be casual about it. Sin matters. It is important. It destroys. And we must hate it with all our hearts.

Have you and I become a bit blasé about sin?

3. Going back to my question at the beginning: why are these puzzling passages in God’s word? Here’s a suggestion... Could it be, partly at least, in order to keep us humble? To teach us that there are times when it’s perfectly all right to say, “Sorry, I just don’t know”? 

Oh, that leads to a further thought... If you ever hear someone preach on these tricky passages with total confidence and certainty about their interpretation, I suggest you take pretty much everything they say on any Bible passage with a lorry-load of salt. Do they really know better than some of the wisest and most godly people over two thousand years of Christian history?

One day all things will be clear. But it may not be in this earthly life...

Lord Jesus, thank you for the victory you won on the cross over sin and death. Please give me a holy hatred of every form of sin in my life, so that I can rejoice in your forgiveness while never taking it for granted. Amen.

Judging others

Who are you to judge someone else’s servant? To their own master servants stand or fall. And they will stand, for the Lord is able to make them stand. Romans 14:4

Oh dear, I’ve been at it again. I really do try to avoid it, but like most sins I’m afraid it’s pretty ingrained. 

What am I talking about? Judging others, that’s what. I suspect it’s a habit any of us can fall into, in spite of the clear words of Jesus, echoed here by Paul.

Mine isn’t (honestly!) a nasty kind of judging - more an instinctive tendency to assess and analyse something I see in another person. And with me, one of the forms it takes is passing opinions on their way of worship - you could almost say, in fact, judging their spirituality.

Nina and I have just got back from holiday in Italy. Last Saturday we were in the beautiful little town of Positano, in the Bay of Naples. At the heart of the town is a spectacularly magnificent cathedral, Roman Catholic of course.

So, coming in out of the heat, we sit and soak up the atmosphere in a place which is totally alien to our Protestant evangelical spirits. The paintings! The statues! The vast ceilings! The altars! There is even a tiny casket containing (supposedly) part of the skull of St Andrew (he of John 1:40) which you can “venerate” if you wish (er, no thanks: we aren’t really the relic-venerating types).

And I’m sitting there thinking “No! No! This just isn’t what Christianity is all about. This is exactly the kind of ‘religion’ he came to do away with!”

A woman comes in. She is wearing a black lace mantilla head-scarf. She kneels before the massive altar. She kisses the bronze altar rail, several times. She crosses herself. Her lips move in what would seem to be a mechanical repetition of familiar words. After a few minutes she gets to her feet and leaves. 

And I’m thinking to myself, “There we are, she’s done her religious duty. Poor soul.” 

Judging, you see.

The next day, Sunday, we are in Sorrento, where we are staying. We have stumbled across a small shop-front church that announces itself as Pentecostal. 

Ah, this is much more to our liking! The meeting-room is very plain. The music is simple, led by a man sitting at an electronic key-board. The songs are Italian versions of some that we used to sing with excitement way back in the seventies, now long forgotten. There’s a healthy bunch of children in the small congregation, and they play a big part in the service (in fact, I think we must have happened into their Sunday School anniversary). The atmosphere is enthusiastic, loving, warm.

But even here I’m judging. That overwhelming torrent of words when the pastor leads us in prayer! That over-heated intensity in the sermon - all right, I can’t understand what’s being said, but the flavour, the feel, is like what I have experienced in “Penty” circles at home. And I’ve never felt comfortable with it.

So... We are glad that God led us here, but it’s not the kind of church we could ever make our spiritual home: too emotional? a little shallow? a touch me-centred, perhaps? 

Judging, you see.

And then I think of Paul’ words: “Who are you to judge someone else’s servant? To their own master, servants stand or fall. And they will stand, for the Lord is able to make them stand.” Which means, among other things, that God - and God alone - knows the heart. Which, of course, is why we’re on pretty thin ice when we judge others.

The question that matters is not “What do I see when I observe others in prayer or worship?” but “What does God see when he looks into my heart?” I need to keep telling myself that the people I witnessed in those two very differing contexts are, very likely, far more holy, more Christ-like and more Spirit-filled than I am.

That woman, especially, in the head-scarf... Yes, I feel instinctively that I would love to get hold of her and explain the simple, life-changing gospel of God’s grace shown in the earthly life, the atoning death and the triumphant resurrection of Jesus.

But who knows - perhaps within all the ritual, within all the (dare I say it?) superstition, flummery and mumbo-jumbo, there is a little nugget of rock-solid faith in Jesus, pure and beautiful as a diamond. Who knows but God?

After all, we believe - do we not? - in justification by faith: not in justification by believing in justification by faith. (If you get what I mean...)

Thank you, O God, that you look on the hearts of men and women, not on the outward appearance. Help me, then, always to assume the best and not the worst in others, and to remember that my own sinful heart is an open book to you. Amen.

Are you feeling spiritually flat?

Meanwhile his disciples urged Jesus, “Rabbi, eat something.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you know nothing about.” Then his disciples said to each other, “Could someone have brought him food?” “My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.” John 4:31-34

Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labour in the Lord is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58

Somebody recently shared a problem with me. He is a Christian, enthusiastic about his faith, and a member of a lively church. But he feels that he has begun to lose interest. “To be honest, I’m finding everything a bit boring,” he says.

We haven’t yet had a chance to talk properly and pin-point the root of his problem, but I find myself wondering if there might be a clue in one of those puzzling sayings of Jesus…

Jesus is tired. He has been walking with his disciples, and they arrive near a Samaritan town called Sychar. The disciples go off to the town to get something to eat, and Jesus rests by the town well. A woman comes to get water from the well, and she and Jesus get into conversation.

The result is that the woman becomes convinced that Jesus is the Messiah, and as the disciples reappear with the shopping she runs off to the townspeople to share her excitement. The disciples urge Jesus to have something to eat – whereupon he informs them, rather mysteriously, that “I have food to eat that you know nothing about.”

This baffles them. Has somebody else brought him food? If so, who? But no: he goes on to explain, even more mysteriously, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me…”

What can that possibly mean?

It seems that Jesus is excited by his conversation with the woman. As she accepts the truth which he shares with her – “I, the person speaking to you – I am the Messiah” – he realises that a vital part of his ministry on earth is being accomplished. Yes! – non-Jewish people are beginning to turn to God! The good news of the gospel is beginning to reach out to all nations!

And who needs food at a time like that? This seemingly chance encounter has given him a new energy and drive.

I don’t think for one moment that Jesus meant to teach his disciples that food and drink aren’t important. Not at all: but there are times when the urgency of a particular task is so overwhelming that it eclipses everything else.

A recent example for us might be the bombing in Manchester, when many of the medical people, and others too, simply forgot normal life and worked round the clock to save lives. That situation couldn’t – and shouldn’t – last: “normal life” would soon need to be resumed: proper food, drink and, of course, sleep. There is no suggestion in the Gospels that Jesus was normally neglectful of his ordinary needs. But the meeting at the well was very special.

How might this saying of Jesus help my friend?

Well, it suggests a principle: it is often when we get involved in a work for God that we are given energy and strength by God. Even on a purely human level, working for a cause you believe in energises you. Putting it another way: could it be that my friend feels flat and unenthusiastic because he has dropped out of service for God?

We sometimes talk of something being “meat and drink” to a person. By this we mean that it’s something they thrive on, something that drives them on and “feeds” them. Of course they need ordinary, literal food and drink as well, but they have a motivation which empowers them.

William Wilberforce devoted much of his life to the freeing of slaves. I read recently that Wilberforce was an unimpressive person to look at – small, a bit weedy, clearly not in good health, easy to despise. But it seems that once he got on his feet to persuade others about the evils of the slave trade, he was a transformed man: truly a giant, if not in the physical sense. It was said of him that “the minnow became a whale.”

This principle applies to us as Christians. It’s when we throw ourselves heart and soul into the work of God’s kingdom that we discover within ourselves an energy and an enthusiasm that equip us for the work. (Isn’t it otherwise called the person of the Holy Spirit?) It’s when we allow ourselves to become half-hearted that we also become lethargic and dreary.

Whether this train of thought applies to my bored friend I don’t know. But perhaps it applies to you? Are you a bit glum spiritually? If so, is it time to get your sleeves rolled up and to get involved in a work for Jesus?

Lord Jesus, show me the area of service where you want me involved, help me to give it my very best, and so equip me with all the energy and enthusiasm I need. Amen.

Are you past your use-by date?

Stand up in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly and revere your God. I am the Lord. Leviticus 19:32

Grey hair is a crown of splendour. Proverbs 16:31

The righteous... will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green... Psalm 92:12-14

I preached recently in a church where there were some interesting visitors in the congregation. There were four of them, and they had the words “Street Pastors” emblazoned on their tee-shirts.

I had been asked in advance to give them a ten minute slot in the service, which I gladly did. One of them spoke very simply about the work of Street Pastors; she encouraged us all to support it - and to consider the possibility of getting actively involved in it.

Just in case you don’t know, Street Pastors is a Christian organisation which sends groups of volunteers out into city centres at weekends to make contact with the drinkers and druggers and clubbers. Their role is not out-and-out evangelism, but simply to be a Christian presence. They offer practical support and help - bottles of water, safe transport home perhaps, flip-flops for girls too drunk to walk in their high heels. Advice too, of course, if appropriate. A listening ear. Friendship.

Though not personally involved I have heard quite a bit about Street Pastors in recent years - and all of it has been good. They operate in full partnership with local police and other authorities, who gladly welcome their presence. Apparently it has a significant effect in lowering crime rates and bringing some peace and calm to situations that might otherwise get out of control.

So it was good to meet this little team.

But what particularly struck me - and the main reason for writing this blog - is that they were all... well, let’s not mince words, quite old. (One of them eighty-four, in fact.)

You might think this kind of ministry would be best exercised by younger people, people of the same generation as those they are wanting to help. In some places, for all I know, that might in fact be the case. But my impression is that older people form a real part of the backbone of Street Pastors. How refreshing is that!

We live, those of us at least in the western world, in a society that tends to dismiss and even mock the elderly: a society fixated on youth and glamour.

This is a total contrast to attitudes we find in the Bible - just take another look at the verses I have quoted. They prompt me to make two very simple pleas.

First, a plea to younger people: Don’t write off the old.

True, wisdom doesn’t come automatically with age - old people can be stubborn, stupid and infuriating (like members of any other generation). But the Bible makes clear that old people may still have much to offer. Just a couple of examples...

King Solomon’s successor, his son Rehoboam, got his reign off to a disastrous start by ignoring the wisdom of the grey-heads in the royal court. He sowed seeds of division in the nation which was never healed (1 Kings 12).

Luke’s Gospel introduces us to a quartet of deeply godly old people right at the beginning of the story of Jesus: Zechariah and Elizabeth, the parents of John the Baptist; and Simeon and Anna (not a couple), who greeted the new-born Jesus in the Jerusalem temple (Luke 1 and 2).

To ignore the wisdom of the old is not only disrespectful, but it is also to do yourself harm: you need that wisdom for your own growth and flourishing. Ignore it at your peril.

Second, a plea to the old: Don’t write yourself off.

It’s easy to fall in with the mockery of the young and start believing that you’re past your use-by date. But this is a big mistake. That verse from Psalm 92 is worth soaking up: you can “still bear fruit in old age”; you can “still stay fresh and green.” 

You don’t have to volunteer as a street pastor to prove this in your own life, though that could be right for you. The fact is that ordinary, routine life affords opportunities to let the light of Jesus shine. None of this “Oh, I’ve had my day” or “I’ve got nothing to offer” nonsense, please!

After the service I spoke to another lady in that congregation. She was ninety-seven, and still going strong. We agreed that as long as God gives you another day of life, he has a use for you.

 

Yes? Believe it!

Lord, help me to cheerfully enjoy and serve you every day, whether I am a new-born baby in Christ or a grizzled veteran with the battle-scars of many years. Amen.

Trouble-shooters - or trouble-makers?

When they came to Geliloth near the Jordan in the land of Canaan, the Reubenites, the Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh built an imposing altar there by the Jordan. And when the Israelites heard that they had built the altar... the whole assembly... gathered at Shiloh to go to war against them. Joshua 22:10-12

Jesus said, “Blessed are the peace-makers, for they will be called the children of God.” Matthew 5:9

We hear a lot these days about “conflict resolution”. Schools, businesses and even churches run courses on it - the skills required to settle disagreements without doing lasting damage to either relationships or efficiency.

Sadly, some of us seem to have a talent not so much for conflict resolution as for conflict creation - the art of making mountains out of mole-hills and pouring petrol on flames. (I heard of a man who grumbled about his wife on the grounds that “she won’t argue with me”.)

Jesus tells us that “blessed are the peace-makers”, and in our often tense and divided society, and also in our churches, I reckon that’s a word we can’t hear too often. Christian, be a peace-maker!

Joshua 22 gives us a good example of how easily conflicts can flare up - and, thankfully, how they can be resolved.

When the twelve tribes of Israel came into the land of Canaan, the majority of them settled west of the River Jordan. But two and a half of the tribes - Reuben, Gad and Manasseh (a “half-tribe”) - were allocated land east of the Jordan. The river, running north-south, must have created a barrier that was psychological as well as physical - rather like a busy main road that slices through a city in our modern world.

When the time came for the two and a half tribes to go off and take possession of their land, everything was fine - the nation was still united, and they went with the blessing of the western tribes. No problem.

But almost at once things turned tricky. Why? Because the two and a half tribes decided to erect “an imposing altar” (verse 10) on the banks of the Jordan. This, it seems, was entirely innocent - as they explained later (verses 24-28), they simply intended the altar to symbolise their solidarity with Israel.

But that wasn’t how the rest of Israel saw it. No, this was rebellion! This was treachery! There can be only one altar in Israel! - and that is in the tabernacle, the great portable shrine at the heart of Israel’s worship and, indeed, of their whole national life. So, quick as a flash, they “gathered at Shiloh to go to war against them.”

Well, you can read the rest of Joshua 22 to see how this critical situation was defused. But in this early part of the story there are two aspects which can help us to avoid trouble before it rears its ugly head.

First, be aware of how innocent actions can be misinterpreted.

The two and a half tribes meant no ill. But they failed to see how their action might appear to the rest of Israel. You get the impression that there was a fear, an insecurity, in Israel at this vital point in their history, and so the building of that altar was, as the saying goes, a red rag to a bull.

This can easily happen in church life. Somebody organises an event - without realising that such events really are the responsibility of someone else. A list is drawn up of potential helpers for a particular ministry - and some person’s name is missed off the list. Result: hurt, misunderstanding, a fractured relationship.

Are you a tactful, thoughtful, sensitive person? (It can be learned!)

Second, don’t be too quick to jump to conclusions.

An assumption was made about the motives of the two and a half tribes - and it turned out to be completely wrong.

To this day I burn with shame when I remember a pastoral situation many years ago. I listened to only one half of the story - and, having jumped to conclusions, ended up having to offer not so much an apology as a full, five-star grovel. I learned (oh, how I learned!) that before zipping into “Right!-this-is-war!” mode it really does help to, er, establish the facts, and to do so coolly and quietly.

Is this a word some of us need to hear?

All of us can be hot-headed and impulsive. Simon Peter lost his head in Gethsemane - with the result that the high priest’s servant lost his ear (John 18:10). Paul and Barnabas, giants of the early church, had a bust-up which led to the parting of their ways, at least for a time (Acts 15:36-40). And later on Paul felt the need to apologise for some pretty harsh words to the high priest (Acts 23:1-5). (Lesson: never be afraid to apologise!)

Better still, of course... don’t act in such a way as to risk such tensions and flash points.

May God grant us sensitivity, wisdom and grace!

Father, forgive me when I am insensitive to the feelings or perceptions of others, and when I am prickly at the way others act. Please help me to develop the Christlike skills of the peace-maker. Amen.