Life with purpose

The Lord will fulfil his purpose for me... Psalm 138:8

One of the first things I was taught as a teenage convert was that God had a purpose for my life.

 

This conviction has never seriously wavered over the succeeding half-century. In fact, it has been so much part of me that I have rarely even so much as thought about it.

That doesn’t mean it has always been easy. There have been times when I have wondered just what God’s purpose for me was. Times when I have feared that I have drifted away from it. Times too when it has been very hard to understand how things that have happened can possibly be part of his purpose. 

But the fact that there is a purpose - that, I have never seriously doubted. I hope you can say the same.

For me, this bedrock conviction of every Christian is neatly summed up in these simple words from Psalm 138. 

All right, somebody could say, “But Psalm 138 was written by David, the great king of Israel, the ancestor of Jesus himself! Of course God had a purpose for his life! But me - well, I’m not remotely in that league!”

You could say the same thing about other great Bible characters. There’s the prophet Jeremiah, for example: “The word of the Lord came to me - ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart. I appointed you as a prophet to the nations’” (Jeremiah 1:4-5). I don’t know what the Hebrew is for “Wow” plus half a dozen exclamation marks, but I reckon Jeremiah must have said something very like it when he received that word.

In the New Testament there is Paul. Of him it was said: “This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel” (Acts 9:15). Another wow moment.

Great stories. But... we mustn’t let them cow us into feeling insignificant. All right, most of us are not chosen by God to be world-changing prophets or apostles. But we are chosen to live out, and to work out, his purposes for us.

If these thoughts are right, where are they taking us? I suggest two thoughts.

First, life isn’t just an arbitrary, meaningless muddle.

Sometimes you look at people who have no faith in God or hold upon him, and, without wishing to judge or criticize, you wonder what kind of sense they make of life. It seems to be just a case of “Stuff happens”, and they don’t expect to see any pattern or meaning to it. 

True, even the most committed Christian’s life might sometimes seem to be an arbitrary and meaningless muddle; but a pattern asserts itself over time, and the purposes of God stand out clearly. And even when that takes longer than we would like, it is the role of faith to trust that that day will come. That much-quoted verse, Romans 8:28, really is wonderfully true: “...in all things God works for the good of those who love him...”

Second, God’s purposes don’t only involve easy things. 

Not at all! -  sometimes they takes us “through fire and water”, as the psalmist put it (Psalm 66:12). That beautiful verse is well worth quoting in full: “You let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance.” (Don’t miss those first two words, “You let...”)

I quoted earlier the words spoken about Paul in Acts 9:15 - that he was God’s chosen instrument to bring Jesus to the gentile world and its rulers. But I didn’t go on to the next verse: “I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.” Ah! - to be living within the purposes of God is no guarantee of an easy life: on the contrary.

Whenever I read the story of the man born blind in John 9 this truth strikes me afresh. “Why was this man born blind?” the disciples ask Jesus, assuming that his parents (or even he himself!?) must have done something bad. To which Jesus replies, Sorry, you’ve got it all wrong: “... this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

And I stroke my chin and think, “Mm, that poor chap certainly drew the short straw! Yes, God clearly had a purpose for him - I’m just glad it wasn’t me.”

I hope you share my belief in God having a purpose for your life. The message is simple... Find it through prayer, follow it by faith - and trust that (borrowing the words of a great hymn) even though the bud may have a bitter taste, sweet will be the flower.

Loving heavenly Father, thank you for countless generations of people who have believed in your purpose for their lives; please count me worthy to be numbered among them! Amen.

The voice of Pilate's wife

While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal in a dream today because of him.” Matthew 27:19

“That innocent man” is, of course, Jesus.

He is standing before Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea, the man who has power of life and death over him. The Jewish authorities have brought him before Pilate, and they want him executed.

By all accounts Pilate was a seriously not nice man. Philo, a well-known Jewish writer of the time, describes him as “by nature rigid and stubbornly harsh…”, guilty of “bribes, acts of pride, acts of violence, outrages, cases of spiteful treatment, constant murders without trial, ceaseless and most grievous brutality…” Pilate is a man with blood-red hands.

He operates according to no real principles – all he cares about is getting his own way as easily as possible. He knows Jesus is innocent of any crime, but the best he can do is “wash his hands” of him, saying in effect, “All right, I’ll crucify him if that’s what you really want, but don’t hold me responsible” (verses 24-26). (If only we could shuffle off our responsibilities as easily as that…)

Picture, then, the moment the message from his wife reaches Pilate. He is sitting there on his judge’s seat, at a loss to know what to make of this strange character Jesus. He, Jesus, professes to be a king, though anyone less king-like it’s hard to imagine. But even a brutal man like Pilate senses there is something strangely impressive about him, so he hesitates to put him to death.

Then the messenger arrives – let’s say with a written note. Pilate glances at it, knowing instinctively that what his wife says is true. Which means he has a decision to make: should he, in spite of the inconvenience, do what is right and just? or should he go for the easy option?

Well, we all know which course he took. A decision which literally changed the course of history. A decision in which he revealed his true self and condemned himself.

I believe the voice of Pilate’s wife, so to speak, can come to us too, though no doubt in different forms. I find two main challenges.

First, it is the voice of conscience. 

What else does conscience do but (a) tell us the truth (especially the truth we don’t want to hear), and (b) urge us to make a decision (though probably a decision we don’t want to make)?

I don’t doubt for a moment that there had been many times in the past when Pilate had drowned the voice of his conscience. And, of course, every time he – or we – do that, our consciences become that little bit more calloused and insensitive. We are in the process of slowly hardening and destroying our own souls.

Here’s a question to put to ourselves: At what points in my life have I taken this decision to silence the God-given voice of good and truth within me? It may have become a settled habit with me, so much so that I really don’t notice any more that I’m doing it.

If that is the case, the sooner I wind back the reel of my life and start to put it right the better. However far gone I may be, God is gracious and will delight to pluck me off the road to destruction and set me right. But I must have the willingness, and the humility, to ask.

Second, the voice of Pilate’s wife can be a voice of hope.

How so? Well, it’s worth noticing that even in a dark place like Pontius Pilate’s palace a glimmer of light was shining. Somebody there had seen the truth. Somebody there had spoken the truth. Somebody there was concerned to see justice done.

In that situation God used a dream to communicate. (And why shouldn’t the same be true today?) But God is not limited in the means he uses.

So I dare to hope that somewhere in the dark places of our troubled word – the inner counsels of Isis or Boko Haram, the governments of godless nations, the board-rooms of corrupt business empires – that in these dark places the voice of truth is being heard, and the light of goodness is shining, however feebly.

Pray – pray hard! – that those who speak those words and shine those lights will get ever stronger until they prevail.

Lord God, thank you that the light of love and goodness cannot be ultimately extinguished. Give courage and strength to those who speak truth to power, and bring the day when they will prevail. Amen.

The two Adams

As in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive… So it is written, ‘The first man Adam became a living being’; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit. 1 Corinthians 15:22, 45.

I wonder how many names or titles for Jesus you can think of in the New Testament. There’s no shortage…

Lord, Saviour, Messiah (Christ), King, Shepherd, Son of Man, Son of God, the Resurrection and the Life… I could go on.

But I wonder how many of us would have said Adam, particularly “the last Adam”?

It seems strange, doesn’t it? To be fair, it’s not a title that occurs very often – just here in 1 Corinthians 15, in fact, plus a slightly different angle on it in Romans 5:12-21. But it seems to have been an important part of Paul’s understanding of the gospel.

Adam is presented to us in the Bible as the founding father of the human race. Never mind for the moment how literally we are supposed to take the story of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden: the story yields up its meaning to us however we take it, and it conveys key truths.

Adam stands for the beginning of human creation, the most important creature God has yet made, because he was made, as Genesis puts it, “in the image and likeness of God”. Adam and Eve were to be the first parents of a race that would perfectly reflect the glory of God.

But, to use the modern jargon, they messed up big-time. They disobeyed God. As a result they brought a curse on the earth, and the consequences – sin, corruption, death – are with us still today. Genesis 3, the story of the “fall”, makes sad reading – and it’s no surprise that it is followed immediately in chapter 4 by the story of the first murder.

God’s beautiful creation has been spoiled, corrupted. And the question obviously arises: can it be put right again?

This is where Paul and his teaching about Jesus as a second Adam, “the last Adam”, comes in. By his perfect obedience to God his Father he cancels the curse, and puts into reverse the trail of the first Adam’s destruction. His death by crucifixion is God’s chosen way to bring this about. As Paul puts it in Galatians 3:13: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us”.

Putting it another way, just as the first Adam was the founder of a creation which quickly became broken and fallen, a creation subject to death, so the last Adam is the founder of a new creation, a creation bursting with new and, indeed, never-ending life. That’s why Paul says that while the first Adam was “a living being”, the last Adam was far, far greater, “a life-giving spirit”.

So… what? What difference does all this make to us?

The heart of it is that while God of course loves and cares for each individual man and woman, his vision and ultimate objective extends far further than simply the salvation of you and me. He is in the business of bringing into being a whole new creation, you could even say a whole new race.

The Adam who fell to temptation is replaced by the Adam who stood firm. The Adam who died is replaced by the Adam who lives for ever. The tragedy of the Garden of Eden is replaced by the miracle of the Garden of Resurrection. The Adam who lost the “image and likeness” of God is replaced by the Adam who bears that image and likeness perfectly.

And he doesn’t just bear it himself. No – and this is the point we’re leading up to – he also restores it to those who love, trust and follow him. If we are followers of Jesus we aren’t just smartened up sinners, people God has applied a few spiritual cosmetics to. We are new people, growing more Christlike day by day.

There’s a favourite verse, 2 Corinthians 5:17, where Paul writes: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” That’s a great truth. But in fact it isn’t quite what Paul wrote. His words, translated literally, are: “If anyone is in Christ – new creation”. Which suggests that not only are we new creations individually, but we have also become part of the great new creation that God is making in his troubled, fallen world.

As things are at the moment, the old creation brought down by the first Adam exists side by side with the new creation raised up by the second. But not until Jesus returns in glory will the new creation be finally completed.

So the question for us is this: During this “overlap” period, which of these two creations are you, and I, living in?

Lord God, help me to become daily more worthy to be part of your wonderful new creation, remade in the likeness of Jesus. Amen.

Time for a good cry?

Immediately a cock crowed. Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken: “Before the cock crows, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly… When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse… Matthew 26:74-75; 27:3.

I have to confess that I’m not really the tearful type. I use the word “confess” there deliberately, because I see this as a failing in me. I comfort myself by thinking that probably I’m just (a) too English and (b) too male, but I’m not sure that’s much of an excuse. Tears, surely, can be a good and healthy thing.

So there’s a bit of me that quite envies those who cry easily. And that must include Peter here.

It’s been a bad, bad day. Peter has seen his master Jesus led away for trial. He can sense what is going to happen: the unspeakable horror of crucifixion. He sees that all the hopes he has pinned on this man are about to be brought to nothing.

And even worse, from his own personal point of view, he has done the very thing Jesus had said he would do, and which he had vigorously rejected; he has disowned Jesus three times (26:34-35). The crowing of the cock, foretold by Jesus as the signal of his failure, penetrates his heart like a knife.

And so (what vivid words these are!) “he went outside and wept bitterly”. As The Message puts it, “he cried and cried and cried”. Can you see him…?

Poor Peter!

And yet at the same time, surely, happy Peter. His tears are healthy, showing the depth of his sorrow and anguish. And it won’t be long before the risen Jesus takes him quietly aside with words of comfort, healing and restoration (John 21:15-19). No recriminations. No stern “Didn’t I tell you?” No finger-wagging “Remember this next time”.

No. Just “Do you love me? Feed my lambs… Feed my sheep…Follow me.” It doesn’t actually say so, but I can’t help wondering if Peter shed some more tears – tears of a totally different kind – on that occasion.

With Judas, the man who betrayed Jesus to the Roman soldiers in Gethsemane, it’s different. Certainly, he repents – after a fashion. But Matthew uses a different word from the normal “repent”: “he was seized with remorse”. He returns the money he was paid, and he confesses his treachery: “I have sinned, for I have betrayed innocent blood”.

But there is no mention of tears such as Peter shed. We are left to speculate that Judas was angry and frustrated with himself, sorry about what has happened, but not really sorry for his sin. And, sadly, he feels he has no alternative but to kill himself.

A wonderful new start for Peter. A terrible, tragic end for Judas. How many human lives over the centuries have followed one or other of those trajectories?

I long ago gave up trying to make sense of what might have gone on in Judas’ mind. There’s bit of me that wants to say to God: “But, Lord, he was sorry for what he did! He did confess his sin! He did give the money back. Can there be no forgiveness for him?”

I ask myself: suppose Judas had fought his way through to Jesus, thrown himself at his feet and cried out for forgiveness… might things have been different? But then, of course, he didn’t…

In the end I give up. God is God, and who am I to question his ways? His justice and his mercy are perfect. We read in his word that “he is not willing that anyone (including, presumably, Judas) should perish, but that everyone should come to repentance”. (And who said that? Peter! – in 2 Peter 3:9. Who should know better than him?).

The destinies that overtake different human beings are truly a mystery. I read in the paper this morning about the young student recently murdered in Egypt. It appears that before they killed him his murderers tortured him for a week. Can your mind or mine fathom how fellow members of our human race could do such a thing? Or why such a thing should happen to that young man?

And then I read of lives wonderfully transformed by the power of God’s grace – gang members, say, whose eyes are opened to the wickedness and futility of their life-styles, and who devote themselves to promoting peace and reconciliation.

Yes, in sinful human nature (and that means yours and mine, of course) there are depths beneath depths beneath depths – but also unimaginable and wonderful heights for those who truly repent.

No, I don’t really know what to make of Judas, but then it isn’t for me to second-guess a just and holy God. But I do know what happened to Peter! And I thank God for his outburst of tears.

May someone reading this find the same release, the same repentance, the same restoration.

The same forgiveness. Amen.

Holy people in an unholy world

“Therefore come out from them and be separate… Touch no unclean thing, and I will receive you. I will be a father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters,” says the Lord Almighty. Since we have these promises… let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit… 2 Corinthians 6:17-7:1

“It is better to be alone than in bad company.” Do you find yourself agreeing with that quotation?

Apparently George Washington said it. I must admit that what I know about George Washington could be written on the tiniest of post-it notes. But I reckon he was spot-on with this. It certainly chimes in with Paul’s severe, uncompromising words to the Corinthian church: Come out… be separate… touch nothing unclean… purify yourselves from any contamination.

In fact, go back a little to 1 Corinthians 15:33 and you find him saying very much what George Washington said: “Bad company corrupts good character”.

You don’t have to read far in the letters to Corinth to see that the church there was a pretty ugly mess: factions and divisions; gross sexual immorality; quarrels that ended up in law courts; compromises with idol-worship; disorderly worship services… welcome to the church of Jesus Christ in Corinth.

The problem lay partly in the fact that Corinth, as a city, was known for its corruption and vice. And the Christian community was right there, in the thick of it. However true their conversion experience may have been – and, strikingly, Paul never expresses doubts about it – that nasty taint of unbridled paganism didn’t just go away. So no wonder Paul pleads with his fellow-believers to distance themselves from every hint of “uncleanness”.

I’m sure he would say just the same to us.

But how are we to put this into practice? Some Christians have seen this as a call to complete withdrawal from the world around us. But that surely can’t be right. Didn’t Jesus live his thirty years on earth in the thick of things? Paul himself wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty in the business of evangelism and church-planting (what else was he doing in Corinth in the first place?).

No: Christians who adopt the “withdrawal” policy tend to end up sanctimonious and self-righteous, and that’s not a good witness for Christ.

When I was a teenage Christian I was taught a little motto which I think isn’t at all bad: we are to be “in the world but not of it”. 

Certainly, Jesus doesn’t call us to be hermits – he wants us involved in making known the good news and announcing the kingdom of God. But he also insists on total purity of life, motive, speech and behaviour. It’s a great challenge: how can I be truly godly in a godless world?

Well, it’s a question each of us must answer, prayerfully and thoughtfully, for ourselves.

But the point of Paul’s words is to sound a serious warning to anyone who wants to follow Christ: every waking minute of every day the devil wants us to get sullied, contaminated, by what goes on around us. And if we are not wise in the choice of people we mix with this process will take place without us even noticing it.

A friend was invited to the office Christmas party. He didn’t really want to go – the alcohol would flow freely, inhibitions would be lowered, people would end up doing and saying things they would never have dreamed of in the normal office setting. So what would he do? “I’ll go along for a bit and enjoy it as much as I can, but I won’t stay too long.” I think that was about right. And, who knows, like Jesus at the wedding at Cana, he may have brought something of the presence of God.

Another friend came to me once after a meeting where we had been stressing the need to be active in witness among our non-Christian friends. With a guilty look on his face he said, “Colin, you know, I don’t think I have any non-Christian friends!”

He was a dear, good man, deeply committed to the life of his church – but he hadn’t realised how, little by little, the church had gobbled him up and taken over every moment of his spare time. (To his credit, he set out the very next day to redress the balance in his life.)

Balance. I think that word (blessed word!) sums it up very well. As Christians we are walking a tightrope every day. And when you’re on a tightrope, well, balance is everything. Lord God, help us not to fall off on either side!

Heavenly Father, I want to be pure and Christlike. But you have placed me in this sad, soiled world, and I am glad of that. I want to live for you. Help me, please, to get it right! Amen.

You can be an answer to prayer

When we came into Macedonia, this body of ours had no rest, but we were harassed at every turn – conflicts on the outside, fears within. But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus… 2 Corinthians 7:5-6.

It’s good to pray – every Christian knows that: we’ve heard it in a thousand sermons.

But it’s a real joy too to be the answer to someone else’s prayer. Is that something you’ve ever thought about?

It’s happened recently to my wife and me. Having just moved to a new home, we were obviously keen to find a church to be part of. We’ve ended up in a quite tiny congregation, a church recently planted by a bigger one. Most of the members are young adults, many with small children. This creates a really nice atmosphere: but these pioneers have been very aware of their relative youth and inexperience.

So when we happened along, grey-haired and wrinkled, having parked our zimmer frames at the door (all right, I’m exaggerating just a touch), the response has been (and perhaps I’m exaggerating just a touch here too): “Oh! We’ve been praying for some really old people to join us!” (A cheeky lot, they are.) And we’re, like, “Er, thanks a bunch.”

But – jokes aside – we’re pleased, of course.

I hope you can see the funny side of it. But the serious point is that just as they have turned out to be an answer to our prayer, so, in return, it seems that we are also an answer to theirs. Which is a good feeling. (Mind you, they don’t really know us that well yet…)

Paul had serious problems with the church he had planted in Corinth. In fact, of all his “problem churches” – and he had a few! – they were probably the worst. And he tells us here that as he made his way through Macedonia (quite likely he was in Philippi) he was close to despair (“downcast” or “brought low” is the word he uses).

No doubt there were other things on his mind as well as the problems in Corinth, but they certainly didn’t help. He doesn’t actually mention praying but, knowing him as we do, who could doubt that he did?

And then what happens? Along comes his young protégé Titus, bubbling over with good news: things are looking up in Corinth! I can imagine Paul and Titus talking long into the night about what Titus has discovered.

The point is simple: Titus, the bringer of good news, was an answer to Paul’s prayer. And the challenge also is simple: Why shouldn’t you and I expect to be the answer to someone else’s prayer?

It’s a truly humbling thing. Once, when I was still a full-time pastor, I had a feeling one day – just a hunch, really, nothing more – that I should visit a particular person that afternoon. I wasn’t aware of any special need or difficulty; it may have been simply that it was a time since we had last talked. But as she opened the door she looked at me and said “I was praying that you might come”. (Thank you, Lord…)

I can’t claim that this kind of thing has been a regular occurrence in my life. But when it does happen, how good it feels! I reckon Titus felt pretty good that day in Philippi as Paul wrapped his arms around him.

I’m quite sure that there are people in your circle and in mine who are in need of blessing and encouragement – or perhaps rebuke and challenge. Perhaps they’re trying to pray their way through a difficult time: sickness, marriage problems, difficulties at work, a major disappointment, doubts and questionings. And you might be the answer to their prayer with a visit, a phone call or some other contact.

For this to happen just one main “qualification” is needed: an openness to God’s day-to-day leading; a sensitivity to the moving of the Holy Spirit. What matters is to embark on each new day not with our mind focussed on “What do I want from today? What are my needs and problems?” but “I wonder how God might be able to use me today?”

You might get a surprise. And some troubled soul might get just the help they need.

Be blessed. And be a blessing!

(Oh, and as for that bunch of impertinent children that God seems to have landed us among, don’t worry – we have ways of getting our revenge…)

Lord God, please teach me to pray. But help me too to believe that I can also be the answer to someone else’s prayer this very day. Amen.

How should God's church grow?

To the angel of the church in Philadelphia write… I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. Revelation 3:7-8

A minister friend said to me not long ago: “I don’t particularly want my church to grow – I want God’s kingdom to grow”.

A case of somebody being a bit super-spiritual? – saying what a Christian ought to say rather than what he really felt (don’t be silly, of course he wants his church to grow!)?

No. Trust me, I have known this person for many years, and I am quite sure that he meant exactly what he said.

One reason he gave for his attitude was this: “I have been called by God to be a pastor, and I don’t want to have more people in my congregation than I can pastor personally.”
And so his policy was to plant new congregations whenever his own grew to the point of getting unmanageable.

Well, you may or may not agree with his attitude. Perhaps there is an argument for congregations that are growing steadily – even exploding numerically – to remain together as one congregation: they certainly make a bit of an impact on our cynical, sceptical, unbelieving world.

But I for one could certainly identify with his desire to be a pastor rather than a managing director or CEO. We saw last week how Jesus the good shepherd “calls his own sheep by name” (John 10); well, it seems a sad state of affairs if his under-shepherds – his pastors – are unable to make the same claim. Let pastors be pastors!

Whatever, my friend was certainly bucking a trend. We live in a world where, so often, big is beautiful. There is an unhealthy interest in numbers, statistics: one might almost say, an obsession. And this mentality has established itself fairly and squarely in the church. The “mega-church” has become, it sometimes seems, every minister’s dream ambition. And ordinary church-members are easily dazzled by the speaker who leads a big, bursting congregation.

In Revelation 2-3 we find seven “letters” from Jesus to different churches. In each case there are words of encouragement and challenge; usually, there are also strong words of rebuke: “Nevertheless, I have this against you…” is a repeated refrain.

But in just two cases there are no words of rebuke at all: the church at Smyrna (2:8-11), and the church at Philadelphia (3:7-13). What’s more, in each of these cases the impression is given that the churches may well have been quite small and even struggling.

Says Jesus to the church in Smyrna: “I know your afflictions and your poverty…” (2:9). And to the church in Philadelphia: “I know that you have little strength…” (3:8).

You get the point, I’m sure: Jesus seems to have a special love and appreciation for… not what may have been big bulging churches like Sardis (3:1) and Laodicea (3:14-21), but for churches that, on the surface, were not particularly impressive at all. Big isn’t necessarily beautiful. Small isn’t necessarily insignificant.

I know we have to keep a sense of balance. If you read Acts, for example, you find that Luke, the writer, wasn’t afraid to record the numerical progress of the church. To grow numerically isn’t of itself wrong, of course not! But again, of itself it may just be a cover for serious spiritual ill-health.

When I was a very young minister I once attended a ministers’ fellowship I’ve never forgotten. The speaker challenged us with a couple of questions. First: “How would you feel if God sent a real revival to this town?” Well, of course, we all nodded our heads and murmured how thrilled and delighted we would be.

Then came question two: “How would you feel if this revival came about through the church half a mile down the road from yours?” Of course, we all insisted again how thrilled we would still be. But I couldn’t help wondering if some of us were guilty of a little touch of hypocrisy…

We sometimes ask the question about a church: What kind of church is it? By which we very likely mean, How big is it? Well, fair enough – it’s a valid question. But I suggest that there are three other far more important questions, and they can all be grouped under the letter “h”.

First, how healthy is it? Is it biblical, prayerful, Spirit-filled? Second, how holy is it? Are the love, mercy, grace, purity and beauty of Jesus seen in it? Third, how happy is it? Is it lovingly united and full of the joy of the Lord?

And a question that takes us back to where we started with my friend’s remark: What is our priority – the growth of our church, or the growth of God’s kingdom?

Honestly, now…!

Lord Jesus, build your church! – and use me in the building process just as you see fit. Amen.