Christian, disagree agreeably

Accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarrelling over disputable matters. ² One person’s faith allows them to eat anything, but another, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. ³ The one who eats everything must not treat with contempt the one who does not, and the one who does not eat everything must not judge the one who does, for God has accepted them. ⁴ 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.

⁵ One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind…

²² So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves. ²³ But whoever has doubts is condemned if they eat, because their eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.

Romans 14:1-5, 22-23

Did you watch last Sunday’s England v Spain Euro-final? I haven’t seen the official viewing statistics, but I’ve no doubt that they ran into many millions.

Another question: Did you feel a touch guilty about watching the game? It was Sunday, after all. And doesn’t the Bible tell us to “honour the sabbath day and keep it holy”?

I ask because I couldn’t help reflecting on how things have changed over the decades. I became a Christian as a teenager in the 1960s, and in the church where I was converted we were not taught it was wrong to watch television on a Sunday – not taught, because it was just taken for granted, something that simply wasn’t done. There were various unwritten rules like that: you were expected to dress smartly for church; no shopping on Sundays; no work on Sundays; and of course you wouldn’t smoke or drink alcohol on any day of the week. Everything was very black and white, and you just accepted it without really giving it any thought. (I was only fifteen, after all.)

Well, those days are well gone! I sat down to watch the game without any qualms, and I couldn’t help thinking what a journey I have travelled over those fifty-odd years (and I can’t remember the last time I wore a tie for church).

But one thought nags at me. How have I made that journey? Prayerfully? Thoughtfully? Can I say that I made a conscious, thought-through decision that my earlier conviction was unnecessarily strict, and so abandoned it with a clear conscience? Or did I just drift unthinkingly into my new practice, “going with the flow”, as the saying goes? Mmm… that question leaves me a little uncomfortable.

In Romans 14 Paul is tackling the question of how we as Christians should handle what he calls “disputable matters” (NIV) or “personal opinions” (GNB) (verse 1). He picks out two topics which, presumably, were causing some division in the church at Rome. First, are Christians expected to be vegetarian (verses 1-3)? Second, are they expected to regard various days, especially no doubt the “sabbath”, as specially sacred (verse 5)?

And his answer is simple and clear. Such questions are matters of personal conscience, and nobody’s business but that of the individual involved. So - he says in effect - back off! “Who are you to judge someone else’s servant?” (verse 4).

Jesus didn’t come to give his church a whole new set of rules: he came to bring the mercy and grace of God in the free forgiveness offered through the sacrifice of the cross. “Disputable matters”? – well, I was going to say you can just snap your fingers at them, but, putting it a little more elegantly, they are not worth falling out over; indeed, it is actually sinful to be unduly dogmatic, it is arrogant and judgmental. All that matters is that each of us should be “fully convinced in our own mind” (verse 5).

Various other comments are worth making as we explore Romans 15.

First, it teaches us something about how to use the Bible.

In essence… the Bible is not a text book to be ransacked so that we can quote occasional verses and apply them, out of context, to any given situation we might choose. I quoted earlier the words of the ten commandments about “honouring the sabbath day and keeping it holy”. But of course that command, in context, was given to the ancient people of Israel (Exodus 20), and the sabbath day was Saturday, not our Sunday, or “the Lord’s Day”. So when Christians gather to worship Sunday by Sunday, they could be accused of sabbath-breaking, because the New Testament never contains any command to regard Sunday as a new holy day. No doubt that’s still a good thing to do, but exactly how is another matter.

I spent some weeks a few years ago in a country where the day of worship for all religious traditions was set by the secular government: Friday, I think it was. It was a country with many such traditions, and this was considered useful in terms of social harmony. Should the church have risen up in protest, demanding to be allowed to worship on Sunday? If so, they failed to do so; and who could say they were wrong, and on what grounds? “Tradition”? Surely not!

My wife and I also had devout friends who belonged to the Seventh Day Adventist church, which holds on to Saturday as their chosen “holy day”. You couldn’t wish for finer Christian people, and while we obviously disagreed with one another, we were able to treat one another with cheerful, mutual respect. I think the Paul who wrote Romans 14 would have approved of that.

I think that sums up the essence of Romans 14. But the chapter raises various other questions… How, for example, should we distinguish between “disputable matters” and those which really are important? Is Paul in effect adopting an “anything-goes-as-long-as-you’re-sincere” approach to things like same-sex relations? Are there no absolute rights and wrongs for Christians?

But I find I have run out of space. So, if you are interested, please join me next time…

Father, we live in a world where any given topic attracts a multitude of different opinions, and there are times when we are confused about rights and wrongs. Please help us, by your Spirit, to know when we should stand our ground, and when we should be flexible; above all, when we find that we disagree, to disagree agreeably. Amen.

Seeing the unseen

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. ² Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: with two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. ³ And they were calling to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.”⁴ At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.

⁵ “Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”

⁶ Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. ⁷ With it he touched my mouth and said, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.”

⁸ Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

Isaiah 6:1-8

Do you ever think how wonderful it must be to have a vision of God, or to witness a miracle or some other supernatural event? Yes? Well, be careful! If that were to happen, it might not be quite what you expected.

Four such visions in the Bible spring immediately to my mind. There’s Moses at the burning bush (Exodus 3), where Moses “hid his face because he was afraid to look at God”. There’s Peter, James and John on the mountain of transfiguration (Matthew 17), where “they fell face down to the ground, terrified”. And then there’s John on the island of Patmos (Revelation 1), where he “fell at the feet” of the risen Christ, “as though dead”.

And then, of course, there’s the passage above, where the prophet Isaiah “saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne” – and where he seems to have been reduced to a quivering wreck.

Perhaps our feeling about having a vision of God begins to take on a new complexion…? Perhaps the bread-and-butter nature of the ordinary  Christian life suddenly seems not so unattractive after all?

Focussing particularly on Isaiah 6, certain things particularly strike me…

First, such experiences in the Bible are actually quite rare, so it would be unrealistic to wish for them in our day-to-day lives. They mustn’t be ruled out, of course, not at all; there is no limit to what God might do. But Paul tells us, after all, that “we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Some Christians imagine that every day of the week they should be experiencing high-octane excitement – if not visions or miracles, then at least remarkable answers to prayer. Reading the Bible fairly superficially can indeed give the impression that that’s the norm – drama on every other page! - but of course the biblical writers wouldn’t have felt any need to record the run-of-the-mill stuff.

The fact is that for most Christians most of the time life was – and is - probably pretty ordinary, with God’s presence being discerned largely through the eye of faith. One day, according to John, we shall “see Jesus as he is" (1 John 3:2), so most of us must simply be content to wait until that day comes, and not chafe for too much too soon.

Second, it seems that such experiences generally were quite frightening. Moses, aware that he was standing “on holy ground”, “hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God”. Isaiah, made acutely conscious of his sinfulness, let out a cry of sorrow – “I am ruined, for I am a man of unclean lips…” John, lying in a heap on the ground, didn’t know what to do with himself. These were experiences where that much over-used word “awesome” might well be used.

Any notion that a vision of God might be simply comforting would seem well wide of the mark. After all… to see some representation of the one holy and perfect God himself is no small matter.

It’s true that to both John on Patmos and the disciples on the mountain Jesus did indeed speak precious words of comfort, “Don’t be afraid”; and to Isaiah in the temple was given the forgiveness of his sins. But let no-one remotely imagine that these were cosy chats. Anything but! As I said at the beginning, if you allow yourself to hanker after such an experience, well, let’s just say that you might end up getting more than you bargained for…

Third, in three of the examples we find that the encounter ends with a new commission: God gives the individuals concerned a new job to do.

Moses is to lead the people of Israel out of slavery in Egypt, a truly momentous task (Exodus 3:10). Isaiah is to preach a message of what is at first bad news, before he gets to the good news (Isaiah 6:9-13). John is to write letters to the seven neighbouring churches, and they contain some messages that will not be at all popular (Revelation 1:10-11).

So if we ever feel that we would like to “enjoy” a vision of God, perhaps we need to ask ourselves what new job we might be willing like to take on. The Lord asked Isaiah, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” To which Isaiah responded, “Here am I. Send me”. A wonderful willingness! But would we be so willing?

If these visionary experiences are written down for us to learn from, what exactly might the lessons be? If not to whet our appetites for remarkable spiritual “highs” – then why?

If nothing else, the answer must surely be to remind us of the purity, power and awesomeness of our God. We live in times when the “fashion” in worship is often very casual and informal – our language, our dress, our manner. I don’t say there’s necessarily anything wrong with that. But it must also be right to bow humbly before him, if only metaphorically.

We have seen how John on Patmos “fell at Jesus’ feet as though dead”. And how did Jesus reply? We are told “he placed his right hand on me and said: ‘Do not be afraid…’” The various visions may inspire, challenge and nourish us for years to come; but ultimately those gentle, loving words of the risen Christ are what we most need to hear.

Loving Father, my faith is feeble, and my grasp of your majesty and holiness falls far short of your true greatness. Please help me to see you day by day with the eye of childlike faith, and to anticipate that day when I will see Jesus in all his glory. Amen.

Soaking up evil

Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye and tooth for tooth’. But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also…” Matthew 5:38-39

The high priest stood up and said to Jesus, ‘Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?’ But Jesus remained silent. Matthew 26:62-63

Then they led Jesus away to crucify him. Matthew 27:31

Christ committed no sin , and no deceit was found in his mouth. When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats… 1 Peter 2:22-23

Here are some words worth focussing on…

“If anyone attacks me, I will be as meek as a lamb. If anyone attacks the church, I will be as brave as a lion. If this is from the Lord, I will not open my mouth... Only by being obedient when arrested could I let all see that I was truly motivated by love.”

Brave, brave words; and, I think, massively impressive. They are reported as written by Pastor Wang Yi after his conviction and imprisonment on false charges by a court in China in 2018. His sentence was nine years. His wife was allowed to visit him for the first time in 2021. It is now 2024. We need to let those figures sink in.

A lot must have happened since 2018, of course. I don’t know if his radiant, Christlike spirit may have been blunted or even, God forbid, broken. But I can only shake my head and deeply admire that spirit.

I used the word “Christlike” to describe Wang Yi’s response to the evil done to him; I think that’s justified as we look at the little collection of verses I’ve put together at the top, taken from Matthew’s Gospel. But it’s a phrase from the 1 Peter verse that perhaps sums it up best: “he did not retaliate”.

Retaliation… How different our troubled world would be if we all refrained from it! It seems so simple in theory – no wars, no petty jealousies and rivalries, but simply the Christlike dignity of refusing to hit back, whether in personal or in national terms. But of course it is in fact far from simple. A nation that perpetrates an atrocity on an enemy clearly should be brought to some kind of justice; likewise somebody who deliberately kills or injures another person. Even relatively trivial wrongs shouldn’t just be brushed under the carpet as if they don’t matter.

But that’s for another day. What matters for most of us is to work out what non-retaliation means in practice for us individually. For, let’s be honest, we are all prone to want to “get our own back” when we feel we have been wronged. Anger is very natural, and sometimes justified; but we need to decide prayerfully how to deal with it, for it can so easily curdle into hatred and a desire for revenge.

I recently read this in a book by a Christian writer: “Retaliation wins a victory for wrongdoing, by recruiting the victim into the army of hatred and violence”. In other words, when I hit back at that person I’m angry with, I just keep the poison of animosity alive; it remains, so to speak, in circulation and ready to do still more damage. Indeed, it increases in intensity.

That writer went on: “Wrong propagates itself by chain-reaction, and can be stopped in its career only by someone who absorbs it and lets it go no further”. Perfectly put!... “someone who absorbs it and lets it go no further”. And I have to ask myself: am I such a “someone”? For isn’t that act of absorption exactly and precisely what Jesus was doing before the high priest when he remained silent? - indeed, exactly and precisely what was going on on the cross? Evil being patiently absorbed, not viciously bounced back: that’s non-retaliation.

I’ve never seen the inside of a boxing-gym, but somehow the image of a punch-bag comes to mind. Boxers need to develop the ability to punch with ferocious force; but if they practiced that with human opponents no doubt there would be regular deaths. But they can batter to their heart’s content that padded bag which is designed to soak up whatever force is directed against it.

Well, no-one likes the thought of being reduced to a mere punch-bag! Yet in reality isn’t that exactly what Jesus allowed himself to become on Calvary?

Our world is full of evil. The question to face up to is: Am I adding to it or reducing it? Am I bouncing it back into ever-wider circulation, or am I soaking it up and thus reducing its impact?

Never hit back: that’s the basic message. But the Bible offers us something even more - it is always positive, never merely negative. Here is Paul in Romans 12:21: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good”. To not retaliate is a great thing – but how much greater it is to respond to evil not only by soaking it up but also by answering it with love and kindness!

Jesus teaches us not only to tolerate, or ignore, or put up with our enemies, but to love them and pray for them (Matthew 5:43-48).… Yes, really.

Father, we pray for Pastor Wang Yi and his family, and for the countless others in various parts of the world who are suffering unjustly and cruelly. Please give them grace to persevere, and the comfort of knowing that you love them and that your eye is upon them. Amen.

I was angry with my friend;/ I told my wrath, my wrath did end./ I was angry with my foe;/ I told it not;/ My wrath did grow…

William Blake (1757-1827)

Keep doctrine in its place!

The jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. He then brought them out and asked, ‘Sirs, what must I do to be saved?’ They replied, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved – you and your household’. Acts 16:29-31

We maintain that a person is justified by faith, apart from the works of the law. Romans 3:28

The man responsible for keeping Paul and Silas under lock and key was in fear of his life.

In spite of the very strongest precautions (they had been dumped “in the inner cell” and their feet were fastened “in the stocks”), an earthquake in the middle of the night had torn the prison open and set the prisoners at liberty. His bosses, the Roman authorities, were likely to show no mercy if any of them got right away, so he was as good as dead. Sensing that Paul and Silas were more than your usual run-of-the-mill prisoners, he cried out in fear, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” And back came the wonderful answer that has echoed down the centuries, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved”.

It’s worth noticing that the man who spoke those simple, glowing words is the same man as the one who wrote the letter to the church in Rome: the apostle Paul.

Now, Romans 3, from which I have quoted, is quite a dense and complex chapter, much of which takes a bit of grappling with by our modern minds - multiple Old Testament quotations; rhetorical questions that we may find it hard to see the point of; the use of theoretical-sounding words like “law”, “righteousness”, “sin”, atonement” and “justified”… Not easy!

The result is that many Christians rarely ever read Romans 3, much less get seriously to grips with it. This is a shame, because what Paul is talking about is right at the heart of the Christian faith, with roots going way back into the pages of the Old Testament. The essence of it is in fact summed up in verse 28: “We maintain that a person is justified [which means “put right with God”] by faith apart from the works of the law”.

We might heave a sigh say and say, “Look, Paul, if it’s that simple, why bother with all the theological stuff!” But he has his reasons, and like the rest of scripture even the stuff that seems heavy to us is valuable and ultimately nourishing.

But it’s a fact that the heart of what he is explaining is indeed simple. And this is nowhere better demonstrated than in the story of the Philippian jailer in Acts 16, the story of a man wonderfully “justified by faith” – witness, please, the wordy theologian doing the work of a street evangelist!

Romans 3, like many other passages of Paul, is what we often call “doctrine”. This is really just a fancy word for “scriptural truth in a systematic form”, and, yes, it can sometimes seem pretty heavy going. But it’s important to try and get an overall grasp of what God has done (and is still doing) in Christ, to provide a solid foundation for our faith; so, Christian, persevere!

But – and this is the key point - thank God that the Bible also provides very down-to-earth illustrations of what it all means in practice. For me, the story of the Philippian jailer is the perfect example. When he cries out in alarm “What must I do to be saved?”, Paul doesn’t reel off a brief summary of his complex argument in Romans 3; no, he gives a simple word of comfort and hope: “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved…” In essence, that’s all the jailer needed, or anyone else needs, to know.

True, further teaching followed – “they spoke the word of the Lord to him” (verse 32) – but, given that it was the middle of the night and they’ve all been through a pretty traumatic experience, I doubt if that did much more than enlarge on a few essentials. This night was a night for sheer rejoicing, not a time for furrowed brows and an attempt to understand heavy doctrine. (No wonder, by the way, that the gospel is called “good news”.)

As I’ve said, doctrine is important – but it needs to be kept in its rightful place. Tragically, wars have been fought over it; people have been killed for it; churches have divided over it; friends have quarrelled over it. But: “Believe in the Lord Jesus…”; it’s hard to imagine two Christians falling out over that, isn’t it!

Sadly, we in the church can be guilty of turning Paul’s beautiful gospel invitation into something like an ultimatum, even a veiled threat delivered with a wagging finger: “If you don’t believe in Jesus, you can’t be saved, so you’d better start believing!” Whereas it should be a glad response to a cry of need: “You want to be saved? Wonderful! Just believe in Jesus!”

In effect, we can be guilty of turning “faith” itself into just another “work” that the would-be-convert needs to do. And, as the jailer discovered that memorable night, that’s exactly what it isn’t!

Our God is a generous God. He welcomes all who turn to him in simple, child-like faith; he doesn’t hand us a tick-box which we must complete in order to “qualify”.

A Christian friend and I had a conversation where we disagreed. We knew our disagreement was unimportant, so we smiled and let it drop. My friend remarked, “Well, it’s not a salvation issue anyway”.

I’d never heard that expression before, and it lodged more and more insistently in my mind. It prompted the nagging question, What precisely does qualify as a “salvation issue”?

That happened some months ago; and I’m still wondering. Any suggestions?

Father, we recognise that the good news of the gospel is deep enough to plumb the deepest depths, but also simple enough to be grasped by a little child. Please help us, when talking to non-Christians, to get the balance right, and so enable them to receive Christ in all his love and compassion. Amen.

What's in a name?

The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch. Acts 11:26

Every few months I get literature from a missionary organisation which works in many parts of the world and which, as far as I can tell, does a very good job of making Christ known. I have noticed recently that it seems to have dropped the word “Christians” when talking about believers, and replaced it with “Jesus-followers”. At first I thought this might just be a one-off, but it seems to have become the settled policy.

Does such a change puzzle you, perhaps even shock you? I wasn’t quite sure what I thought about it at first. The church, after all, has been called “Christian” for 2000 years, an honourable title surely, so somehow it didn’t seem quite right to let the name disappear. But on the other hand I thought of how easy it is for it, however time-honoured, to cause misunderstanding.

Words are slippery; they have a habit of changing their meaning over time. For Shakespeare, for example, “naughty” meant “wicked”, far more than just, well, what we might mean by it today, perhaps a light-hearted rebuke to a child.

Sometimes words pretty well die altogether, emptied of their meaning by constant wrong or exaggerated use. I once received a message from a charity after sending them an extremely modest donation: “Thank you for your incredible generosity…”. Incredible? How overblown is that! What word will they use when something happens that really is incredible – ie, impossible to believe?

I have personally sometimes wondered if the word “Christian” is, in fact, exhausted and needs to be decently buried in the grave of history. When first coined – in the ancient city of Syrian Antioch (Acts 11:26) – it had a very clear meaning: “followers of the recently crucified prophet Jesus of Nazareth”. But now it means a million and one different things, depending on who happens to be speaking.

I was talking once to a woman who had shown an interest in the Christian faith, and it seemed natural to me to ask the question, “so you aren’t at the moment a Christian, then?” She immediately reared up at me, “Of course I’m a Christian!” Oh dear! How dare I suggest such a thing! The trouble was that we were using the word in two quite different ways, and by asking that question I had obviously insulted her. For me, “Christian” means a believer in Jesus; for her, I think, it meant any person who reckons to live a respectable and decent life.

So, as I thought about it, I began to wonder if that missionary organisation was in fact onto something sensible. Acts doesn’t give us any indication of how much time elapsed between the coming of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost in Jerusalem and the coining of that new word in Antioch (coined quite possibly by mocking opponents of the first disciples) but it may well have been months rather than weeks – which means that for a significant period there was no such thing as “Christianity” at all, just a message – a “gospel”, good news - about Jesus crucified and risen from the dead.

A prominent theologian was keen to show how generous and non-judgmental Christianity is; he proposed that any sincere adherent of another faith – Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist, whatever - should be regarded as “an anonymous Christian”. Well, that was all very well and all very welcoming – but then an angry message was received from a non-Christian who felt he was being patronised: “I am not an honorary Christian! – I am a Buddhist  (or Hindu or Muslim)” (I can’t now remember which).

You can always tell when a word is exhausted or dying by the instinctive need we feel to prop it up with qualifying words, like those wires they use to support drooping, ancient trees: fantastic becomes “truly fantastic”, amazing becomes “absolutely amazing”, and so on.

And that’s how it is with “Christian” – even within Christian circles. To say “I am a Christian” is not enough: we have to narrow it down to either a “born again Christian” (but how can you be a Christian and not be born again!) or a “practicing Christian” (but how can you be a Christian and not practicing!) or a “sincere Christian” (but how can you be a Christian and not sincere!) or a “Bible-believing Christian” (but how…?).

By substituting “Jesus-followers” for “Christians” that missionary society is, I think, acting wisely, not least because in many parts of the world the church has earned a not-so-good reputation, and it may be best not  to identify too closely with it.

In Acts 4 we read that the apostles Peter and John were taken to task by the religious authorities but maintained their witness with great boldness. And so… “when they saw the courage of Peter and John, and realised that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus.” (Acts 4:13).

Great words! – “they took note that these men had been with Jesus”.

That’s what matters! Never mind names and labels - even the worn-out label “Christian” - which are open to all sorts of misinterpretation and confusion. Our prayer must be that people look at us and “take note” that we have been with Jesus. God grant it may be so!

(By the way, I’d be incredibly interested to know what you think.)

Dear Father, thank you that by your grace I can bear the honourable name of “Christian”, like those people so long ago in Antioch. But please help me to be sensitive to the fact that for many people it may mean something very different from what it means for me, and thus be a cause of confusion and misunderstanding. Help me to make it my great priority not to claim any particular label, but to live daily a truly Christ-like life. Amen.

The sin of the blind eye

If you falter in a time of trouble, how small is your strength! Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering towards slaughter. If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Proverbs 24:10-12

My wife and I recently watched a dramatization of the end of the Second World War. One particularly harrowing scene showed American troops entering a concentration camp, and the sheer horror of what they found: prisoners in a state of near starvation, more dead than alive, dressed only in those striped pyjama-type outfits. We sat shaking our heads, hardly able to believe that such cruelty could be inflicted by people on fellow human beings.

The Bible Book of Proverbs (a great book for browsing, by the way) contains a wide mix of sayings. Some of them (15:12, for example) are pretty banal, leaving you thinking “Yes? All right, but… so what?” But others pierce right to the depths of your conscience, and 24:11-12 is one such – and it came to my mind as I watched that film: Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering towards slaughter. If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it?

The key words, for me, are that claim “we knew nothing about this…”. The film made it clear that within a few miles of that concentration camp there were villages with people getting on with their normal everyday lives. Could they really claim not to know about what was going on just down the road? Did they not notice the sinister-looking trucks, the comings and goings of military personnel, the smoke rising into the sky, the terrible smells of death and disease? Had they not picked up rumours of what was going on in their country?

It must, surely, have been a case of what we sometimes call “turning a blind eye”? The effect it had on me was not so much to lead me to criticise those ordinary local people, but to ask myself the question, “What would I have been like if I had been in their shoes? Would I have been any better?” And I have to confess that I couldn’t answer that question with any great confidence… (How easy it is to condemn sins or failures that we personally have never been tempted by!)

So here, plucked straight out of Proverbs, is a direct challenge to all our consciences: Do I have a tendency to look the other way when I see or hear things I really don’t want to have to think about? It’s easy to make excuses - and, of course, there may be times when we have valid reasons not to get involved. But… often that But is a pretty big one…

Broadly speaking there are two main reasons why we tend to turn a blind eye to bad things: Fear, or Indifference. Putting it more simply, either we’re scared, or we just couldn’t be bothered.

I can only guess that those German villagers, in the main, were scared. They were living under a cruel and repressive regime and they felt the need to “keep their heads down” in case they too ended up in such a place. That’s understandable, but of course it flies in the face of the example of Jesus himself and, throughout history, of many heroic men and women who have risked their lives for what they felt was right.

The Nazi concentration camp is an extreme example; our circumstances are no doubt far easier. But still we can hide our fear of getting involved in difficult issues under excuses which, in our hearts, we know are feeble: “Well, what difference could I make anyway…?”; “Really, it’s none of my business”; “I don’t like to judge others – there’s two sides to every story, after all”.

No, we don’t want to be busy-bodies or trouble-makers; “whistle-blowers” often make themselves seriously unpopular. If we do decide to act we must be determined to do so prayerfully, thoughtfully and only from pure motives. But there are times when our consciences tell us only too clearly that we have a difficult choice to make, and nobody can make it but ourselves.

I’m afraid that more often when we turn a blind eye – certainly in my case anyway – the real reason is indifference. I may care in theory – of course I do! - but to tell the truth I don’t really care enough... It’s just too much trouble… I really haven’t got the time… I simply don’t want to have to bother.

The Anglican church, when praying prayers of confession, speaks of “sins of commission” – that is, wrong things that I do – and “sins of omission” – that is, good and right things that I fail to do. It’s a worthwhile distinction; remembering it can help us to keep our consciences sharp and pure, for there are times when the sins of omission outweigh the sins of commission.

I have found over my years as a pastor that people with no interest in church sometimes feel the need to excuse themselves (quite why I don’t know: why not have the courage of their non-convictions?): “I admit that I am not a church-goer myself,” they say, and then they eagerly add, “But I will say this: I never do anybody any harm”. As if that makes everything all right, then. It doesn’t, of course.

We are put on this earth to love and serve God and to be a blessing to our fellow-men and women. We know he loves us and is forgiving, but we’d better not take him for granted! Let’s take seriously the warning of Proverbs 24:12: “If we say, ‘But we knew nothing about this’, does not he who weighs the heart perceive it?”

Father, when I’m frightened of doing right, give me courage. When I’m lazy and indifferent, rebuke me. So help me to fill my days with actions and words, however small, which are honouring to Christ and which bring blessing to others. Amen.

"They came to Elim..."

Then they (the Israelites) came to Elim, where there were twelve springs and seventy palm trees, and they camped there near the water. Exodus 15:27

There remains… a sabbath-rest for the people of God. Hebrews 4:9

We can only imagine how blissful the sight must have been – “twelve springs and seventy palm trees”! - and with what joy the people of Israel “camped there near the water”. The word “Elim” means “trees” or “oaks”, and, of course, trees speak of refreshment and life, especially in a desert place.

The people of Israel have been through a gruelling time. Under the leadership of Moses they have been miraculously delivered from captivity in Egypt, but even though they have been spared the plagues which afflicted the Egyptians, that dark period must have been massively stressful. The crossing of the Red Sea likewise took them right to the brink – not until the last minute could they be sure that the Egyptian horsemen wouldn’t overtake them, cowering by the sea, and either drag them back into captivity – or slaughter them all.

But now they are lost in the wilderness: what water they can find is undrinkable, and food also is soon to become a problem. As so often, unhappy people have a tendency to turn on their leaders, and so here the people “grumbled against Moses” (Exodus 15:24), who is pretty much at his wits’ end.

I wonder what sharp-eyed person first asked the question, “Look! Could those be trees over there on the horizon…?”, and with what breathless wonderment the people turned to look. Yes! Twelve springs and seventy palm trees! – riches indeed! So when we read that “they camped there near the water” we feel like adding, “You bet your life they did!”.

The experience of Israel between the escape from Egypt and reaching the Promised Land was anything but easy, and we can read it as a kind of parable of our experience as Christians, delivered as we are from slavery to sin but still with a journey to travel before our true resting place.

Are you in a situation in your life where you just long for a personal “Elim”? You are desperately tired, bowed down with responsibilities and worries, finding it hard to worship or pray. God, to be honest, seems a long way off. The hope of that heavenly “rest” – oh to lie down and be at peace, to close your eyes and be perfectly free of the stresses and strains of life! – seems just a dream too good to be true.

It seems little consolation to be reminded that Jesus said it would be thus: the gate is small and the road narrow “that leads to life” (Matthew 7:13-14); still less that as we travel we have a load to carry, for we must “take up our cross” in order to follow him.

We may be tempted to look with envy at fellow-believers whose lives seem to be just one permanent Elim – though we must be careful: nobody knows what troubles the heart of even the strongest, happiest-seeming Christian; appearances can be very deceptive.

But whatever, the fact is that there is no cheap, easy comfort.

What there is, is an assurance of faith. For, as Hebrews 4:9 says, “there remains a sabbath-rest for the people of God”. I’m sure the people of Israel quickened their tired steps as they got closer to those twelve springs and seventy palm trees; I’m sure that they luxuriated in what must have seemed – well, sheer luxury indeed. But, of course, they knew that they weren’t “there” yet; they had only just started their journey and, while only too glad of the refreshment of Elim, they knew that soon they would have to repack their bags.

And, of course, even when they had made it to the Promised Land they still had a journey to pursue, even if of a different, more purely spiritual type.

The whole idea of travelling through hardship to a final place of rest is very important in the Bible; the letter to the Hebrews in particular focusses on it. And the Bible climaxes as a whole with a description of what we might call the final heavenly Elim. Never mind the twelve springs and the seventy palm trees – I invite you to let your imagination dwell on this picture…

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever. Revelation 22:1-5

Beside that the earthly Elim pales into insignificance! But that doesn’t mean that earthly Elims aren’t important. And so I finish with a promise that if you answered to that earlier description of tiredness, anxiety and sheer hardship there will be prayer for you that God will lead you to your own little Elim, and so give you the refreshment you so desperately long for. And if, like me, your ways are presently easier, please join with me, perhaps holding in your heart a particular friend or other person…

O God our Father and Shepherd, you are the one who leads us through this earthly life until the day comes when we enter for ever our perfect, heavenly rest. Please look kindly today upon all your children for whom the journey is specially hard and discouraging. Bring them to a new, personal Elim, so that they may be refreshed for the rest of their journey. Amen.