Fathers and Sons

The lessons appointed for the Sunday after Christmas could seem to some a trifle strange.  While we are still savouring the plum pudding, and anticipating further helpings of turkey disguised as curry or risotto as those interminable stocks of sprouts and other vegetables are slowly eaten away, the church liturgy has moved on apace, and last Sunday’s lesson told us about Jesus as a teenager.  The inspiration for this article came from my experience at the early service.

The final verses of St Luke chapter 2 tell of annual pilgrimage made by Joseph and Mary to the temple in Jerusalem.  I can’t say why, but the first two words of that passage, “Every year ...” (v.41) took my mind back at least thirty years, to my father’s description of one of his own early memories.  At the age of three, his family moved from the village where he was born but, in his seventies, he was still able to describe a trip to the chapel anniversary in a larger village some three or four miles away.  Clearly to all involved this was an important annual event.

Later in the reading we heard Luke’s narrative of Jesus staying behind in the temple when his parents left for home.  After realising that he wasn’t with the party and then eventually finding him, Mary protested about his absence from them (v.49) ... possibly a reaction to the anxiety of the search.  It was time for yours truly to have another reminiscence.

When my son was about seven, he came with me on an outing to the seaside.  While I was chatting with my friends, Mike went exploring.  Long before I was aware that he was no longer with us, he was out of sight.  Once we realised he was missing, a general search was organised to find him and it was probably only minutes before one of my friends walked up with the lad hand-in-hand.  It was long enough for me to imagine all sorts of tragedy, however; not least how I might explain to his mother why I’d come home without him!

There is just that one glimpse in the Gospels’ otherwise complete silence about the period between the manger in Bethlehem to Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan, (Matt. 3:13; Mark 1:9).  We can imagine, though, that it was from Joseph, His earthly ‘father’, that he learned the skills that made him ‘wholly man’.  Meanwhile, as Luke explained in these verses (Luke 2:49) He was in His Father’s house, learning the spiritual truths that made Him so strong in His later life as He confronted the misguided ways of the world.

I’m sure each of us, as we reflect upon our own lives, can think of a key individual - whether male or female; perhaps more than one person - from whom we learned the key elements of the beliefs we now hold ... or indeed share with others.  Maybe, as we pass this significant moment of starting a new year, it’s a good time to give thanks for those who have been ‘spiritual fathers’ to us.

The 'Bertrimoutier Challenge'

A year or so ago, I wrote here about my adventures some while ago in the Vosges, and reflected on my decision to ease gently into retirement whilst purchasing and getting to know the ins and outs of a small motor-caravan.  In examining my aims and aspirations as I should use this asset, I concluded that a definite challenge would be posed by talking to people and enjoying fellowship with them. I resolved that, while not taking myself too seriously, I should avoid foolish chit-chat and unsubstantiated criticism.  At the end of the post, I dared myself to report back here.  So now, a year later, I’m rising to my own challenge.  Has having the motor-caravan helped me overcome my perceived difficulty chatting to people? 

I undertook four expeditions during the summer, three each of two nights and a week during June comprising three more two-night stops.  The last two of these events fall broadly into the ‘failure’ box, as regards chatter.  In one situation I was the only camper there, and went purposely to eliminate distractions in order to complete a particular piece of work in a quiet, concentrated and deliberate manner.  In the other, although there were a number of other vehicles present, most of the other visitors spent the daytime away from the site.  That said, I did chat on the final morning with the couple on the adjacent pitch.  They only stayed for the one night there, and just beat me to the exit as they made their way home from France to Staffordshire.

My first trip, just after Easter, was a good initiation into the programme, and having deliberately set myself to smile and/or nod to each other camper I passed, I felt satisfied with the result.  The June trip was planned to incorporate a visit to the Bible Society’s recently opened visitor centre at Llanycil on the shores of Lake Bala, called Mary Jones World.  It commemorates the 26-mile walk by a fifteen-year-old girl in 1800 in order to buy her own copy of the Bible.  It was this feat that inspired the foundation four years later of what became the Bible Society.  I had made contact in advance with the manager, Nerys Siddall and after a brief chat with her during my visit, I felt confident to offer a single word of Welsh over the heads of other visitors as I took my leave. 

It was Nerys who had suggested the site where I stayed.  This was right next to the preserved railway, and I chatted one morning to one of the volunteers there, as he painted a signal post by the platform.  There were also two conversations on the site, one with the owner, as he rested from repairing a piece of the fence, and the other with one of the few other campers, as we walked back together from the shower block.

These specific camping incidences might seem trivial in themselves, but they form part of a broader pattern of increased involvement with others during the year, as I have made a conscious effort to recover the jovial interlocutor that I was in past times.  That’s not to say there isn’t still some way to go.  It was with some apprehension, for example, that a couple of weeks ago I put myself in the position of attending a social function where I had reason to believe that I would know no one else present.  I confess that I was glad to discover at least three others from my own church there, and one of them acted as a willing conduit enabling me to join in.

Even a personal post like this cannot pass without a look at Scripture, of course, and my first quotation is particularly apposite to that last experience.  Jesus spoke about sending His disciples out as sheep among wolves, and told them, inter alia, “do not worry about what to say or how to say it.  At that time you will be given what to say.” (Matt. 10:16-19).  More generally illustrative is God’s dealing with the reluctant Moses (Exodus ch.4), which culminates in Aaron being appointed as his mouthpiece, “I will help both of you speak, and will teach you what to do.” (v. 15).  And final encouragement comes as to Jeremiah, where God says to him, “Go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you.” (Jer. 1:7).

These verses are not only reassuring for me in my hesitation about speaking, but to us all, for from time to time we all come up against situations where we know we should say something, but aren’t quite sure how it might be received.  It’s then that we should take strength from such words as these, and remember that our Lord is with us - not just in heart, but also in mouth - whatever we’re faced with - for it’s on these occasions more than ever that we’re speaking for Him.

Ready for the Journey

Whether it’s a  visit to someone else’s home for a festival or celebration, or a fortnight’s summer holiday, when the whole family goes away, it’s a major planning exercise to make sure that nothing gets overlooked, and that everyone has all they will need ... even if only for a long weekend.

Life itself is a journey, of course; and my life-journey is passing a significant crossroads just now.  I’m retiring from my career as a courier and life is entering a new phase, one of a little more leisure, a little less discipline, and hopefully a bit more enjoyment ... that’s not to say that it’s been devoid of enjoyment thus far, of course.  This new phase of life will bring with it a little less financial security, and also the need for a degree more self-discipline if the days are not to flutter by in a haze of non-achievement, and a sense of purpose to make it all worthwhile.  And, with a motor-caravan parked outside, there will hopefully be some travel as well.

Naturally, the Bible has much advice about journeys - my concordance offers over 80 references to just the word ‘journey’, without other related words like ‘travel’, ‘go’, ‘pass’, and so on.  Many of these are in the Old Testament, and are connected with the Israelites’ wanderings in the desert.  One in particular caught my eye.  We are reminded that they were God’s chosen people, whom he loved and looked after, when we read, “I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you along the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared.” (Exodus 23:20).  No dodgy SatNav for them; no risk of landslides or falling bridges; and those blessings are ours too, for we now understand that He loves us all, when we put our trust in Him.

One thing that is essential, whether we travel in car or on foot, is to make sure that we eat properly.  This may mean taking sandwiches and a flask; it may mean making sure that there is a service station en route; it could be as simple as having a decent breakfast before setting out.  Many a disaster is caused by feeling faint, tired or weary when travelling.  Elijah was exhausted and thoroughly demoralised after his run-in with the prophets of Baal.  During his flight, he slept under a bush, and was woken by an angel, who said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.” (I Kings 19:7).  The angel had provided food and drink for him.

When Ezra was about to lead the Israelites from exile back to Jerusalem, he called them all together by the canal before setting out, “... so that we might humble ourselves before our God and ask him for a safe journey for us and our children, with all our possessions.” (Ezra 8:21).  If we are setting out on a long journey, especially one that is dangerous or that has a special purpose, do we begin it with prayer?  If not, can we say why not?

One of the delights of travel, and one that I shall miss in my retirement, is seeing the rich variety of all that this world has to offer, even in this island of Britain on which I live.  Isaiah (ch.42, v.5) reminds us that the Lord is “the creator of the heavens, who stretches them out, who spreads out the earth with all that springs from it, who gives breath to its people, and life to those who walk on it.”  

What more do we need, to make our journey worthwhile?

Breaking up

It may have been a poor signal, or some kind of interference.  The woman I was talking to on my mobile phone said, ‘You’re breaking up’.  A few days later I rang her again, and the response was the same.  Her words were a kind of 'shorthand'; what she meant was simply ‘I can’t hear you’, or ‘the signal is intermittent’.  I was intrigued by this form of words, and began thinking about them a slightly different way.

When you’re speaking on the phone, you are communicating with someone.  They think of the person they’re listening to, not specifically your voice, or the electronic apparatus that brings your words to them.  To the man or woman at the other end of the line, you and your voice and the words you speak are one entity.  Let’s take it a stage further.  The words you speak - unless you are making a joke - usually reflect what you think or believe.  At least, it’s reasonable to expect that the people you talk to will take it as such.

And that’s what is important.  How well the other party understands your communication determines how well they will know you.  You and your words are one to them.  We must be careful to ensure that what we say to others reflects what we really hold dear … all the time.  Look at James 3:5-12 and Ephesians 4:29 to see even more clearly how vital this is.

So complete was Jesus’ humanity that, as he hung on the Cross, He too seemed to experience this ‘breaking up’ phenomenon.  He bore in His body the pain and agony of execution, and in His heart the injustice that it wasn’t for any wrong that He had done.  Did it appear to Jesus as He quoted words from Psalm 22: “My God, why have you forsaken me?” that His prayers weren’t getting through to His heavenly Father?

There are times when we all feel like that.  Our prayers don’t seem to be answered.  It’s at such times that we have to trust others.  Usually in our most desperate situations there are others who are praying for us - or who would do so if only we were bold enough to ask them - and their prayers will bear us up.  Another aspect of trust is encapsulated in that famous rhyme Footprints: “You could only see one pair of footprints during the bad times, because that was when I was carrying you!” 

If at times you feel that God’s voice is ‘breaking up’, try to remember that He is still there.  Think of Jesus’ words, “I am with you always - to the very end of the age” (Mt. 28:20).

Spick and Span

I’ve been thinking about cleaning.  With a whole week in front of me, when I wasn’t working, but had no specific plans, it seemed a good time to apply myself to an autumn clean of my flat.  I confess that it’s something about which I always have great reluctance, partly due to conditioning by my ex-wife, who had high expectations in this direction, and insisted that it was completed as a preliminary to any weekend excursion. It seemed that this was a sort of ‘payment in advance’ for the enjoyment to follow ... which I resented.  Many years later, I realise that - quite apart from the health aspects - I also have a responsibility to maintain the condition of my surroundings ... it’s a form of stewardship. 

Often when I think of housekeeping, the words ‘who sweeps a room as for thy laws’ come to mind, and today I tracked it down.  Written by George Herbert (1593-1633), it’s part of a poem called ‘The Elixir’, which has come down to us as the familiar hymn ‘Teach me, my God and King’.  Herbert was born in Wales, the eighth or ninth of ten children.  His biographer describes his aims as ‘careful self-scrutiny rather than rhetorical pronouncement’, characterised by humility and integrity, not a yearning for celebrity.  His father died before he reached the age of four, so it’s no surprise that he was devoted to his mother, who was an astute manager of the family’s fortunes, and also took a keen interest in her children’s spiritual education.

It’s worth reading all through that hymn if you have the time, for in its simple verses it underlines the importance of perceiving God in everything we see and do in life, however humble and mundane ... which happens to be a neat summary of the aim of these articles!

I can’t leave the topic of cleaning without offering a couple more thoughts.  Sometimes cleaning can be carried out as a by-product of meeting another need, such as looking for something (Luke 15:8).  If a lot of clutter has accumulated, it can obscure an item that has been lost.  This is not just true in material things, but in spiritual matters too of course, so it’s important from time to time to put a determined effort into removing clutter from our devotions, prayers and worship, and refocus on the important core aim of drawing closer to God.

But, like using the more aggressive cleaning compounds without gloves, any cleaning operation carries with it a health and safety warning (Luke 11:25).  If the rubbish has been thrown out, the corners where it lurked are now empty, and there’s only one thing to do with an empty corner, whether it’s in a room or in our lives ...

Let’s be sure we re-fill with the good stuff!

The Right Click

Computers are so much part of our lives these days that it’s hard to imagine life without them.  It’s my belief that everything in life has something to teach us if only we look at it in the right way (through the right eyes?); so what can the computer offer?  Having just changed mine, I’m thinking of that dimension more clearly just now.  Like many laptop users, I think, I find that pad thingy at the front somewhat awkward, and prefer the ‘old-fashioned’ mouse.  It’s comforting, as well as easier, to feel at my fingertips that familiar left- and right-click.

As almost everyone knows, the left click is the one that actually does the work, in effect telling the computer, ‘Yes, I want to take this step.’  The right click, meanwhile, is arguably more powerful, in that it brings up on the screen a menu of useful ‘control’ options appropriate to the particular task you are trying to do.

Wouldn’t life be much smoother if we could be presented in the same way with a selection of options when we have to make an important decision?  My girl friend is crying: should I speak tenderly to her, advise her briskly to ‘pull herself together’, or say nothing, and wait for her to explain what is wrong?  My colleagues aren’t talking to me: was it something I said yesterday, or have I had one too many ‘business lunches’ with the boss?  The TV’s stopped working: do I call in the engineer, buy a new set from the store, or chat to the chap down the road who’s got several in his garage?  Even easier would be a selection of options where the best choice is already highlighted, and we simply have to say ‘yes’.

What we often forget (may not even realise) is that for so many of life’s crisis points, large and small, a source of useful options is available.  Often it is to be found gathering dust on the bookshelf ... the BIBLE.  As we riffle through its pages we can find guidelines that will fit almost every situation in life.  Look, for example, at Peter’s second letter, chapter 2.  Here we find potential answers to many world situations, as well as to common questions about our conduct in social scenarios: what to say, how to behave. 

How many of us question these matters at all, but simply let things happen?  If we were to look at some of the ‘right-click’ options, and reflect on what effect they might have if we tried them, perhaps we could influence the world around us for the better.  Conversely, if we think before we speak - or consider some of these ‘right-click’ options - we may say something quite different, or even decide not to open our mouth at all!

There are also warnings of stiff penalties for those who don’t heed the advice that is offered.  But don’t leave it until a time of need to look for the menu.  You know where the button is ... right click NOW!

Going Back

My cousin and I were talking about holidays.   She’d discovered how expensive was a particular option, and was now considering returning again to the same resort that had welcomed her for the last couple of years.  I was adamant that I would not go back anywhere, citing a place in the south of France where I’d been some years ago with my then girl-friend.  Relationships changed; the following year I returned alone. It was an experience that had done nothing but enhance my loneliness.

I’ve since realised that my general claim, based as it was on a single unwise decision, was unfounded, and I recall a number of occasions when I’ve been back to a place that in the past had been the venue of some sadness or disappointment.  At the time I’d referred to these return journeys as ‘laying a ghost’, and the second visit usually brought me pleasure or satisfaction.  So why should I have instinctively responded as I did?  My conclusion is that it was based on fear; but fear of what?  These other instances that I have since recalled have surely proved that such an emotion is unjustified.

In his inaugural address in March 1933, Franklin D Roosevelt said “The only thing we have to fear is ... fear itself.”  Maybe that thought has a wider relevance than we would allow.  There were many people in the Bible who ‘went back’.  Naomi, for example, returned from Moab to Bethlehem (Ruth 1:22); Jonah went back into Nineveh at God’s command (Jonah 3:3); the people of Israel returned to Jerusalem in their thousands after their exile in Babylon (Ezra ch. 2) and, in a way, Jacob’s sons returned to their brother Joseph by travelling to Egypt (Gen. 43:1-15).  In all of these examples the outcome was for good rather than ill: there was no need for fear, even if at the time at least some of them were fearful (Gen. 45:3).

Towards the end of His life on earth, Jesus talked at length to his disciples, explaining just what was going to happen to Him, and how they would be scattered to their own homes.  This clarity must have been daunting to them, but He understood.  “In this world you will have trouble,” He concluded, “But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

While there is much in the world around us that is uncertain – perhaps most crucially those things that Donald Rumsfeld famously described as ‘unknown unknowns’ – this is one ‘known’ that supersedes all others, and in which we can confidently place all our trust.

Loving my Neighbour

I usually use these mid-month posts to expose the archive.  I go back to articles I wrote long before starting this blog; updating them if necessary to suit changes that have taken place over the intervening years.  Yesterday, as BBC's "From our own Correspondent" celebrated its sixtieth anniversary, I listened to Fergal Keane's moving 'new father' post from Hong Kong in the 1990s.  This short article was written just over ten years ago, also after listening to one of Fergal's talks.

---

"I was listening to a radio interview with writer and broadcaster Fergal Keane, who was talking about genocide.  Speaking of his experiences in Rwanda, he said he had recently returned there, and met some of the murderers.  He wanted to understand their motives.  They had killed, he learned, because others were doing the same; because they had been told to.  'We shouldn’t forget that it could happen here, too,' he said.  'Anywhere where there is poverty and humiliation, all it takes is a monster like Hitler or the Rwandan leaders to demonise the opposition, and turn ordinary people into killers.'

"As I reflected whether or not I agreed with Mr Keane’s analysis of human behaviour, I remembered with some shame feelings I had had only minutes before.  I was driving round the M25, and for several miles I’d been following a BMW, the driver of which had his mobile phone firmly clamped to his ear.  I had linked the fact that he was blatantly disregarding the law, to the expense that I - and most of my colleagues - go to in order to be ‘hands free’.  Drawing a comparison between his likely earnings and ours, I had fantasised about being outside his car window, snatching his phone and dashing it to the ground, with feelings that were little less than fury and hatred!

"Jesus taught us to love our enemies; this man was no enemy but a complete stranger:  woe is me … and how many more like me?  Let’s all thank God for forgiveness!"

                                                                                              ---

Today, the news is full of reports about asylum-seekers, refugees who have left their former homeland where nothing remains but streets of rubble, and war - nothing to return to - and seek to make a new life somewhere where it is safer.  In some places they are met with wire fences, armed police and water cannons; at the very least dislike and resentment.  Yes, there may be some who have simply joined the trail to see if they can better themselves, and these should be weeded out and returned whence they came, but they are in the minority.  

As to the rest of them, I find myself filled with communal guilt and loathing at a selfish 'I'm all right, Jack' mentality that refuses to welcome these homeless and helpless families into our prosperous western society.  I can do no more than repeat my words of ten years ago: "These people are not our enemies, but complete strangers!"  A rich young man asked Jesus, "Who is my neighbour?" (Luke 10:29).  Now it's time for us to decide whether we are 'priests', 'levites', or 'good Samaritans'.

Just Saying ...

“What the eye doesn’t see, the heart won’t grieve over.”   When was the last time you heard someone use this saying ... or, for that matter, say it yourself?  It’s an expression that implies some sort of cover-up.  It might be comparatively innocent, like disguising bad news from a vulnerable person, or it could be some sinister deception being planned to benefit the speaker and/or the listener.

Talking of sayings, I’ve had one running round in my mind for some days, “as plain as a pikestaff”, and I wondered if I was being prompted to use it in one of these articles.  Now I have the answer, one that combines these two.  I was recently directed to St Luke’s story (Acts 5:1-11) of a man and his wife who sold some property.  They decided, probably with good reason, that part of the money should be for themselves and part should be given to the Apostles for the embryonic church.  Their big mistake was in claiming that the money they handed over was the total proceeds of the sale.  It was as if one had said to the other, “What the eye doesn’t see, the heart won’t grieve over.”

In the case of Ananias and Sapphira, the consequences were dire, but happily this end doesn’t befall everyone who uses those words.  Their problem was that they tried to deceive God and, as Paul told the Galatians, “God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.  The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction.” (Gal. 6:7-8).  But where do we draw the line?  We might not dare deceive God, but what about our friends?  We probably wouldn’t deceive them ... unless maybe in something ‘innocent’, or for a joke.  What about other people?  Do we have scruples about deceiving, say, a shopkeeper by keeping quiet if we’re given too much in change, or our employer by fiddling our expenses?

Jesus taught, “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matt. 5:48).  It’s as plain as a pikestaff: our target is not simply to treat God correctly, or Him and some people.  We should aim for perfection, to be honest with everyone.  We won’t make it, of course; perfection is beyond human achievement.  It should be our aim, however; then at least we can expect forgiveness if we don’t quite make it.  But if we go into a situation with the intention of deceiving the other party, then we’re lost before we begin.

You noticed I used that other saying ... about the pikestaff?  Perhaps you’ve seen one in a museum, or maybe in pictures of the Yeoman Warders at the Tower of London.  The actual staff had to be plain, nice and smooth so as not to discomfort the user.  But just for a moment think of what was on the ‘business end’.  The point turned a plain staff into a spear, which could seriously injure an enemy on impact; and that hook ... no one would want that to twist and tug on his flesh as it’s pulled back by an assailant!  So the saying, like the pike itself, is barbed.  We can see the meaning clearly, but we need also to be aware of the consequences of disregarding it.

Next time you hear those words about unseeing eyes and non-grieving hearts, make sure it’s not from your own mouth!

Life on the Edge

I've written here before about dreams, and my theory that they are most often a conglomeration of little snippets of what's been happening in our lives, thrown together in a haphazard fashion by our brains as they sift and sort stuff while we're asleep.  I thought I'd share with you a recent example from my own dream life.

A couple of weeks ago I was helping a team of people who were preparing for a holiday club that took place in our church during the next week.

Service at the end of Holiday Club

To describe it as upheaval would be less than accurate. Chairs were all cleared from the main part of the church and most were stacked neatly by the side windows; some were arranged down the opposite side of the building into squares, and each square had two tables within it.  A gazebo had been erected just inside the main door, so everyone entering would have to pass through it.  Oh, and the pulpit was disguised as a space rocket.

On Thursday morning, as I drove along with my radio tuned in to listen to the opening moments of the fourth test match from Trent Bridge, I was so shocked that I completely missed my turning off the motorway.  This was upheaval of a different sort.  At that time on the first morning of a five-day match, the opening batsmen are usually settling themselves at the crease.  Not so on this occasion; the first six wickets fell within about half an hour, a performance that has since caused much media attention, and will undoubtedly continue to do so.

My weird dream on Thursday night/Friday morning could certainly be classified in the same league for its degree of upheaval. There was a cinema in a small village church.  Clearly the vicar had decided to 'do things differently'.  At first there were only two elderly people in the 'audience', but when others arrived and took seats in front of them, these two complained that they couldn't see, so moved to the front with their chairs.  Eventually, one of them decided that there was a draft, so he went home and got the quilt from his bed, which he then spread over his own knees and those of the woman next to him - not his wife - and began to share a box of chocolates with her.  And all this time, the film was running, so lots of people were missing bits of it!

At this point the events inside the church transformed into a cartoon strip, with a film canister laying on the floor bearing the bizarre - if biblical - title, 'The Whore and the Carpenter'.  Yet another transformation showed me a tabloid scandal with lurid headlines suggesting all sorts of misbehaviour ....

It must have been then that I awoke in predictable confusion, with a number of scripture texts half-recalled in my head.  I've since had the opportunity to make some sense of them.  One was a passage from Paul's letter to the Corinthians, where he described how he would vary his behaviour according to who he was teaching (I Cor. 9:20-22); "I have become all things to all people, so that by all means I may save some." (v.22).

Another was a passage I had read earlier in the week in Galatians, where Paul seemed to be holding the opposite view (Gal. 2:11-12), and told of having accused Cephas (i.e. Peter) of doing this very same thing and adjusting what he did to suit who was present.

When things don't follow expected norms, we get excited.  We wonder who or what is behind it ... especially if the divergence from what is usual is great.  Sometimes, such changes are intentional, to teach some fundamental truth, or to make people think in different ways ... such as the holiday club, where 90-plus young children had a whale of a time learning about the stories of Daniel, and the underlying principle of trusting God.  Not everyone is in favour of such events ... especially in the church!  But let me throw in another of those texts I woke up with.  This time it was the words of Jesus, "Do you think I have come to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!" (Luke 12:51).

Jesus' message to the world was so powerful He knew it would be divisive.  So it is when we attempt to take it to people in the twenty-first century.  We may have to be outrageous to make any impact at all through the clamour of modern life.  We have to learn that to be outrageous for God is OK, even if it means shifting all the seats in the church, or installing a cinema.  What we have to be careful to avoid is outrage for its own sake.  Jesus caused division in His own age, for a purpose.  We must be sure that any division we foster is not only for a purpose, but for His purpose!

What can I do?

I find that I’m frequently tempted to share experiences of my earlier working life as an illustration of some semi-relevant point at our weekly men’s breakfasts.  The other week I regaled my friends with a tale of time-recording.  I can’t now recall how it related to our discussion, but I was amused to find that, when I returned home, my own daily Bible reading directed me to the story of Jesus’ sending out the seventy-two ‘other’ disciples (Luke ch. 10).

To explain this amusement, let me begin with the story I told.  Some forty years ago I was a keen young cost clerk, and one of my responsibilities was the analysis of hours worked on the shop-floor as recorded on coloured clock-cards.  When a new employee arrived, it was the normal practice that he would spend the first week or so alongside experienced workers to learn the processes by their side.  While they were doing this, their time was analysed to ‘training’.  On this occasion, I was aware of some new employees, but had detected no time that had been shown for them as ‘training’.  I taxed the supervisor with this apparent oversight.

“Training?” he replied with a smile, “They don’t need a lot of training.  They start at 8.0 as raw recruits, and by lunchtime they’re semi-skilled operators!”  What I hadn’t realised was that, because it was holiday time, there weren’t sufficient skilled men for them to work alongside, and these new arrivals were working as part of a standard eight-man team, almost from the word ‘go’.  As I read from Luke’s Gospel, I thought of those disciples, going off two by two, and wondered whether they felt like raw recruits, or if they had the confidence of semi-skilled evangelists.  Certainly they returned with feelings of achievement (Luke 10:17), but in the next verse Jesus warned them to remain focussed on the real aim of the exercise.

John devoted many chapters of his Gospel to Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples before his Crucifixion and ultimate departure from them.  He reminded them of the importance of constantly being aware of His presence in their lives, and how this virtually guaranteed the success of their mission in the world.  “If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).  Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, expresses the same philosophy, but from the opposite direction, “I can do all this through Him who gives me strength” (Phil. 4:13).

This poses some important questions for us, of course.  What kind of trainees are we?  Firstly, do we know what it is that we’re supposed to be doing?  I confess that’s one I often ask myself!  Do we go about our work with confidence?  Or are we the sort of trainee who reads the manuals from cover to cover and learns all the scripts, but when it comes to the actual situation, we don’t see which page is being acted out before us?  Are we more like those new employees who found themselves part of the team on their first day, without a skilled man beside them to watch and to copy?

My advice is to identify prominent Christians who clearly achieve success alongside humility, and follow in their footsteps, rather like that servant of King Wenceslas, who was told, “Mark my footsteps, good my page, tread thou in them boldly.”  But (not to forget Paul’s example of exploring truth from another direction), here’s an important warning: when one is known as a disciple, one should ensure that one’s steps are worthy of being followed! 

Roger the Bodger ... and all his Works!

What does it take to turn a house into a home?  We all have different answers to that question!  Susan and Tim were overjoyed when they moved into their new home and, like many a young couple, they hadn’t been there long when they started getting home improvement ideas.  Weekends would find them at the local DIY store, buying paint and paper, tools and other bits and pieces to make their home really theirs.

Soon it became apparent that the previous occupier of the house had also indulged in DIY.  Sadly, he hadn’t been the thorough worker whom it’s a delight to follow.  When the paper was stripped off the walls, large dollops of filler came with it, and instead of being faced with a good surface to re-paper, they had to undertake a major re-plastering job first.  They found that the washing machine had been plumbed into the wrong pipe, and when it came to a simple job like replacing a light switch with a dimmer unit, they uncovered a potential fire hazard which needed a complete re-wiring to make it safe.

How much was Susan and Tim’s home-decorating experience a reflection of the state of our lives?  When we peel back the veneer of respectability, do we find a solid core, or is the life underneath seething with corrosion and decay?  Has the decorator done a complete refurbishment, or merely plastered over the cracks?  It’s all too easy to think that what’s on the outside is all that's important ... if it looks good, it must be good.

Jesus told a parable about two house-builders (Luke 6:47-49).  The wise man built his house on solid rock, but his fellow, whose house probably looked just as good, could only stand and watch as his home was washed away when the rains came.  This parable warns us that we should be thorough in the way we put our lives together, making sure that we choose values and standards that are worthy and reflect the will of our Lord.  The danger is that, if we don’t, we may find the whole of life collapsing around us, like the house built on sand.

The same is true of our churches, too.  I heard recently of a typical parish, with a medieval church unsuited in many ways to twenty-first century life, where the new vicar had a few simple ideas that, with minimal financial outlay, could improve the experience of people coming to worship there.  He faced a tremendous uphill struggle, largely based on an outdated philosophy which held that if something were part of a church then it had to remain the way it was in perpetuity, notwithstanding its fitness for purpose, or the convenience of its location.

Next time you are doing some house repairs, and discover something that has been bodged: smartened up to look nice while the underlying structure is failing, spare a thought for Susan and Tim.  Instead of grumbling as you put right whatever wasn’t done well in the first place, ask whether Roger the Bodger is at work in your life – or your church – as well as your home.

So, Who was Mary Jones?

(This post is dedicated - without apology! - to Bible Society, following my recent visit to Mary Jones World in Llanycil, North Wales)

In the churchyard of St Bueno at Llanycil, by the northern shores of Llyn Tegid (Lake Bala) in North Wales, is a family tomb surrounded by iron railings.  The tomb nearest the lake is that of Thomas Charles; nearest the path is the tomb of his grandson-in-law, Lewis Edwards, while a headstone between them records the burial of other members of the family.  The older man is commemorated thus:

Underneath lie the remains of

The Revd. THOMAS CHARLES, B.A. of Bala

who died Octr 5, 1814 aged 59.

By his indefatigable endeavours when in London (A.D. 1804) to

procure a supply of the Holy Scriptures for the use of his

native countrymen he became the means of establishing

The British and Foreign Bible Society.

He was the reviver of the Welsh Circulating Charity Schools,

and a most active promoter of the Sunday schools both for Children

and Adults:- and North Wales (the more immediate field of his

Ministerial labours for 30 years) will probably retain traces of

his various and strenuous exertions to promote the kingdom

of Christ till time shall be no more.

Also of SARAH, relict of the above Thomas Charles

Died Octr 24th 1814. Aged 61.

She was possessed of every natural endowment and

Divine grace, and was an helpmeet indeed to the

Man the Christian and the Minister.

“Cariadus ac annwyl oeddynt yn eu bywyd,

ac yn eu marwolaeth ni wahanwyd hwynt”

[They were loving and affectionate in their lives,

and not divided in their death.]

The inscription on Lewis Edwards’ tomb reads:

In memory of

The Reverend Lewis Edwards M.A. D.D. [Edin].

Founder and principal teacher for fifty years (1837-1887)

of the College of the Calvinistic Methodists in Bala.

Born October 27, 1809 Died July 19, 1887

Also Jane his wife

Born February 9, 1814 Died January 1892

St Bueno's Church (picture: Bible Society)

The inspiration for Thomas Charles’s ‘indefatigable endeavours’ leading to the establishment of the BFBS (later known simply as Bible Society) was a young woman called Mary Jones.  Her life is now the subject of an impressive display inside the church.

[The church is named after St Bueno who, in the sixth century used to travel all over Wales from his monastery in Clynnog Fawr near Caernarfon.  It was probably built in the twelfth century, but was rebuilt in 1881.  It closed for worship in 2003, and now has a new lease of life as ‘Mary Jones World’.] 

The brand new visitor centre

Mary Jones was born to a poor weaving family on 16th Dec. 1784 at Ty’n-y-Ddôl [the house in the meadow] in Llanfihangel-y-Pennant, in the foothills of Cader Idris, and her father died in April 1789.  In 1794, when Mary was 9, Thomas Charles set up a day school in nearby Abergynolwyn.  Mary had become a Christian in 1792 and, possibly inspired by this new development, she made the decision to save up for a Bible of her own.  It took her many years but, in 1800, she took her savings and walked all the way to Bala to obtain a Bible from Thomas Charles.

Many a fifteen-year-old today would find this task challenging, but 200 years ago, there was no public transport, few decent roads, in fact, and Mary had no choice but to walk.  We don’t know exactly which way she went, nor how long it took her.  It’s certain that she didn’t have 21st-century boots and walking aids!  The map tells us that a direct line from Abergynolwyn to Bala is 24 miles; Bible Society has published a five-day, 28-mile walk: a likely route devised for the bi-centenary by Mary Thomas with the help of local people, particularly the late Mrs Margaret Rees of Llanfihangel-y-Pennant.

In 1802 Thomas spoke about Mary and her determination at a meeting of the Religious Tract Society in London, and two years later the British & Foreign Bible Society was established.

Mary’s life was hard, but perhaps no more so than many poor people of the time.  She married Thomas Jones of Tywyn at Tallyllyn on 27th February 1813, and they moved to Cwrt, in the Dovey valley, roughly midway between Machynlleth and Aberdyfi, and their first child, a son Lewis, was born on Christmas Day.  In the next thirteen years two daughters and three more sons were born to the couple.  They moved to Bryncrug near Tywyn in 1820, but by the mid-1830s five of these children had died. Mary and Thomas were left only with John, the first son born in Bryncrug.  He emigrated to America sometime during the 1840s, and Thomas died in 1849.  Mary died 29th December 1864 after a lifetime’s involvement in the local Methodist Church, and is buried at Bethlehem Chapel in Bryncrug.

Since then - and even during Mary's lifetime - the Bible Society has been working throughout the world to make Bibles available where they are needed.  At present they have people operating in 146 different countries.  To find out more about their work, visit their website.  Who could have known that a long and lonely walk by a fifteen-year-old girl could have had such a far-reaching effect?

Illegally Parked

As a courier driver I am sometimes faced with quite impossible challenges.  A recent example was an urgent mid-afternoon delivery to a shopping precinct, where access is normally permitted only before 10.00 a.m. or after 7.30 p.m.  On such occasions, the only solution is to drive as close as possible, park on yellow lines where there are no kerb markings, and hope that a notice in my windscreen will remind any passing traffic warden of the difference between ‘parked’ and ‘loading’.

Such experiences are surprisingly common.  Sometimes they’re met by an understanding official who realises the dilemma and ignores the offence; sometimes by a ‘jobsworth’ who sees no further than that a vehicle is illegally parked and that he must issue a parking ticket.

One day, I had to deliver a heavy parcel to a building site that was on the far side of a public car park.  I sought advice from the attendant about the best way to get there.  The only way, he said, was to drive through the car park and, yes, that would be quite all right.  I went back to the van and entered the car park.  Having completed my delivery, I made my way to the exit, where I expected the attendant to press a button to lift the barrier for me.  I waited … but nothing happened.  I tooted … still nothing.  I tooted again, and the attendant beckoned me over to his kiosk.

‘He’s going to make me pay a parking fee,’ I thought, angrily. ‘He was the one who said it would be all right to drive straight in.  He didn’t mention a charge!’  Prepared to argue the point, I walked over.  The attendant explained, quite amiably, that he was unable to operate the barrier remotely from the kiosk, but that I would need a ticket to put in the machine.  He gave me a visitors’ pass, the barrier opened as I inserted it, and I was quickly on my way.

As I left, I thought of the parallel between parking and sin.  We all sin; we can’t help it (Romans 3:23).  And just as there is a fixed penalty for parking in the wrong place, so there is a fixed penalty for sin.  St. Paul spelled it out, ‘The wages of sin is death.’ (Romans 6:23).  That penalty has to be paid, in the same way that the machine had to have a ticket to operate the barrier so that I could drive away.  Our release from sin – the only way we can avoid the death penalty – is to accept a gift.  In this case it’s not a tangible gift like the visitors’ pass, but the gift of Jesus’ death on the Cross.  And it has to be accepted as a gift.  It’s not a right, nor something we can earn, or pay for.  That’s where the car park illustration falls down, because we can buy a car park ticket.  When it comes to sin, we have to humble ourselves sufficiently to accept the gift of Jesus’ life, freely given (John 10:17-18; I John 3:16).  It’s the ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card on the Monopoly board of eternity.

Happy motoring – and parking – this summer.

More Little Things

The other day I heard read a gospel passage (John 12:27-33) that sent my mind shooting back some thirty-odd years, to one of the earliest sermons I preached after I became a Reader.  I felt I’d delivered quite a nice talk, but my rector took me to task.  “You have just heard a lesson about Jesus being lifted up,” he said, “but you didn’t lift Him up to those who were looking for Him!”  It was clearly not a memorable sermon, but it lingers in my memory, albeit for the wrong reasons.

In a recent post, I wrote about little things, and used as an example Jesus’ teaching about great plants that could grow from mustard seeds (Lk. 13:19).  Paul wasn’t referring to mustard plants when he wrote, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused it to grow.”  (I Cor. 3:6).  Still less was he thinking of gardening when he asked the Romans, “How are they to believe in one they have not heard of? And how are they to hear without someone preaching to them?” (Rom. 10:14).

It’s staggering how long a shadow a single adverse experience can cast.  If we’ve encountered even a mild rebuke or rejection after talking about our faith – perhaps to a friend or family member – it can make us reluctant, even years afterwards, to be so unguarded again.  It doesn’t seem to matter how much pastoral or biblical encouragement is poured out upon us ... those all-important words just don’t come.  We speak of ‘thinking of’ someone in distress rather than ‘praying for’ them.  And although we know that God hears and answers those prayers, how much more could be the impact if the one whose distress was eased were to know that it might be because of our prayers?

Many years before that sermon, I used to sing in a church choir; consternation was often expressed among the men about teenagers who left the choir when their voices broke, and then never came back as altos, tenors or basses.  Full of prejudice and disapproval, we questioned what value all those years singing in the choir had been to boys who were now playing football or riding motor bikes.  I have often recalled the wise words of our choirmaster from those days who suggested, in line with Paul’s message to the Corinthians, that we could have no idea of the impact of what these boys had sung and heard in those hundreds of hours spent in church during their formative years.  “Maybe they won’t darken the door of a church again until they get married,” he suggested, “or are invited to a baptism or funeral.  But when they do, they won’t be the ones who feel uncomfortable about being there.  Something will strike a chord with them, and who knows what might come of it afterwards?”

He was quite right, of course.  We can have no idea what could grow whether immediately, or after many years, from seeds we might sow simply by talking about our faith.  One thing is certain, however.  If the seed is never planted, NOTHING will grow.

What seeds have you left in the bottom of a packet?

Do You Need a New Clutch?

We are encouraged to review ourselves and our lives from time to time, and make special efforts to re-tune our lifestyle to God’s instructions; two such times are Lent and Advent, but these don’t have to be exclusive.  Nor does such a discipline have to be corporate.  We can as individuals undertake such a review at any time.

There are two kinds of review.  We can compare our life now to what it was like a month, a year or a generation ago.  We can read meaningless statistics like the number of loaves of bread we could buy for the price of a new car or a television, for example, or note that certain aspects of present-day life didn’t even exist in the age we’re comparing to.   From that we can draw our conclusions about the way life has progressed or – depending on our point of view - regressed.

A more searching review comes if we measure what we have, the way of life in our nation now, against some absolute scale of values.  And what better absolute scale than God’s text-book for life itself, the Bible?  As we do so, we may realise that many of the problems in our lives are not the result of cataclysmic events or upheavals, but are the consequence of gradual change, a steady slip from the ideal.

In the same way, the servicing of a motor vehicle is a kind of review, and in this respect I’m undergoing a process of transition.  The van I use for my work, travelling up to 70,000 miles a year, is serviced every couple of months or so, while the motorhome I’ve recently acquired for the retirement I’m gradually phasing into only needs to be serviced once a year.  These are two different attitudes to what is essentially the same task.  In one case, I have a pretty shrewd idea of what will need doing, because I remember fairly clearly what was done at the last service.  In the other, I’m expecting a lot of things will be checked over according to the programme, but I don’t know precisely what will be involved.

If your motor mechanic tells you that your car needs a new clutch, you might well be surprised.  When driving along, you hadn’t noticed anything at all amiss.  The fault – natural wear - had developed gradually and as a result you were accommodating the problem without realising it.  It’s not until he’s fitted the new one and driving the car is so much easier, that you realise just how bad it had been.  Life itself works just the same way.  It’s all too easy to slip into comfortable ways, habits that fit in conveniently with those around us, but which aren’t the way life was intended to be.

There’s a very appropriate phrase in the book of Revelation, “I know … that you are neither cold nor hot. … So, because you are lukewarm … I am about to spit you out of my mouth.”  (Rev. 3:15-16).  It is a reminder of our responsibility to be positive for God, to dispense with lukewarm political correctness, call a spade a spade and denounce sin for what it is.

We need to consider: are we enjoying a lukewarm comfortable-ness, or are we fired up with enthusiasm for God and His love?

Stewed Fruit

I’m amazed how things happen together to provide an additional meaning to something.  The other day I was listening to a piece on the radio about a shepherd.  As he told how he had learned from his grandfather, and how his son was now learning from his father, he used the phrase, ‘the seasons have come full circle’, and my eye fell on some plums in my kitchen.

Most fruit – I apologise to banana-lovers – are generally spherical in shape: plums, oranges, apples ... lemons, too, at a stretch of the imagination; and even the banana gets included if you think in just two dimensions and consider the cross-section of them all, which is roughly circular.  So the term ‘coming full circle’ is a fruitful one <groan>.

Just as amazing is the discovery of over 150 references in the Bible to fruit, and it’s worth thinking about the meanings that some of them present to us.

I have already spoken about things being fruitful; in the first chapter of Genesis we read of “trees bearing fruit with seed in it” (vv. 11,12 &29), indicating that the purpose of fruit is to continue the species.  In the next chapters later we find that fruit was good for food (2:16, 3:6).  Further in the Books of the Law, Leviticus chapter 19 explains the concept of ‘first fruits’, by which the first of the crop should be offered to God rather than eaten.  So fruit can be a gift … do you remember the expression, ‘an apple for the teacher’?

Psalms, Proverbs and Ecclesiastes move us into metaphor.  Man is described as “like a tree, yielding its fruit at the proper time” (Ps.1:3); there are references to “the fruit of their labour” (Ps. 78:46 and Eccl. ch.2), and Psalm 127 speaks of sons being “the fruit of the womb” (v.3).  Proverbs give us fruits of the righteous, his words, his speech, and a person’s mouth and tongue (11:30, 12:14, 13:2, 18:20&21).

In the New Testament, Jesus used many of these expressions in His teaching.  He often spoke of fruit in the sense of our behaviour, thus “you will recognise them by their fruit” (Mt. 7:16), and “fruit that proves your repentance” (Lk. 3:8).  Sometimes He referred to the disciples’ evangelistic obligations as in John ch. 15: “every branch that bears fruit”, “the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it remains in the vine” and “bear much fruit and show that you are my disciples” (vv. 2,4 & 8).

Paul also used fruit as a metaphor in many of his letters.  We all know about the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22), and similarly the fruit of the light (Eph.5:9), to which we can add the reference to “the gospel bearing fruit and growing among you” (Col. 1:10).  James, too, referred to fruit, writing about “the fruit that consists of righteousness, planted in peace among those who make peace.”

I wouldn’t expect any of my readers to learn all these references … indeed, to see that as an objective, though laudable, would be to miss my point.  But there are countless things around us that are circular - quite apart from looking at the fruit stall on the market - so when you see circles try to remember just some of these meanings, and think how they might link something divine to your own lifestyle.

The 'Off' Switch

As we get older, we remember stuff from long ago.  I thought the other day about a certain radio comedian.  “Wireless,” he said (that’s what we called it in those days), “is a wonderful thing; by turning a single knob you can have complete silence!”  The initial surge of enthusiasm for broadcasting had subsided, but the point of his joke was the fact that the wireless was still very popular, and people would stop their conversations when it was turned on, in order to listen to the programme.  This invention was one of many which have contributed to the demise of home-spun entertainment over the last two or three generations.

It occurs to me that this old saw also carries a more obvious truth - in other words that silence can be obtained by switching the radio (or other similar music/noise machine) OFF.  Wherever we go nowadays, it seems, we are bombarded by sound.  Background music is found in many workplaces, shops, motorway service stations and so on.  Quietness can be found only in the depth of the countryside - and that is becoming more and more scarce!

But why should we seek silence?  Are we simply yearning for the impossible, trying to turn back the clock to a past age?  Quite apart from the potential for harm to our ears, constant sound around us has the further property of exclusion - it cuts us off from the distraction of our surroundings.  Students claim that this is a useful way to facilitate concentration on revision.  

It is said, however, that listening to music involves every part of the human brain.  Therefore, isn’t it the case that incessant music can shield us from other things, too: things that could be really important in life?  It becomes the simplest way to shut out unwelcome thoughts, challenges we aren’t yet ready to face, and so on.  Ultimately, it can separate us from God.

In the latter part of the nineteenth century, the American Quaker, John Greenleaf Whittier, penned a lengthy poem “The Brewing of Soma”.  It was inspired by a particularly noisy sect which was active near his New England home, and whose constantly intrusive celebrations were becoming a source of general annoyance to the community.  

The final verses of this poem have come down to us as the well-known hymn, “Dear Lord and Father of mankind”, and in it we find mention of ‘a still, small, voice of calm’.  This is a reference to Elijah, of whom we read in I Kings ch. 19.  He had been told to stand on the mountain because the Lord was about to pass by.  He looked for the Lord in a wind, then in an earthquake, and finally in fire - all without success.  Only then did he hear God’s voice in a gentle whisper, and so receive His instructions.

If you would listen to God’s purpose for you, it is important - some would say essential - to shut out the distractions of the world.  But don’t fall into the danger of exchanging one distraction for another: remember the off switch!

Little Things Mean a Lot

I was putting away some cutlery the other day, when the teaspoon in my hand brought to mind my mother.  To some readers that might seem strange, so let me explain.  My mother was a widow for eighteen years before she died, and for the last two of them she was not only housebound, but couldn’t go upstairs.  This meant that she lived for all of that time in just three rooms and – apart from my occasional visits – the only people she saw were thrice-daily visits from various care workers, perhaps only for ten or fifteen minutes at a time.  Little wonder, then, that this had some effect on her mind.  Cabin fever, do they call it?

When we cleared out her house after her demise, one of the things we found in the kitchen, along with the cup and saucer that she used every day, was a teaspoon.  To our amazement, one side was worn away for about a third of its length.  Instead of the usual oval shape, the bowl had lost a fifth, or perhaps a quarter of its size, and the expression ‘a teaspoonful’ would have taken on an entirely different meaning with this particular example.

A teaspoon is a very small item when contrasted to the whole range of furniture and equipment in even a modest sized house, or when the stirring of a cup is compared to the lifetime of an individual.  Who can remember every single teaspoon they have used in, say, the last two years.  My mother had always used the same one, for very many years.  She must have done, to have worn it down so.  And how many times must she have stirred each cup of tea?

OK, it’s not every time I touch one, but frequently I see a teaspoon and think of mother in her isolation, wondering what were her thoughts as she mindlessly stirred ... and stirred.  And yes, there are feelings of guilt that, however distressing or boring for me, I ought to have visited her more.

This week I thought of other little things, in particular mustard seeds, rudders and whips.  Jesus spoke about mustard seeds, the smallest seeds imaginable, and of the great plants that could grow from them (Luke 13:19).  He also used their size as an illustration, in speaking of people’s faith (Luke 17:6).

James warned about careless use of our tongues.  He indicated how powerful they were for their size, and compared them to the rudder, a small component of a boat, but whose use could determine where even a great ship would sail (James 3:4-5)

And the whip?  John writes in his Gospel about Jesus’ act of cleansing the temple of the traders and money changers, who were defiling its purpose as a house of prayer.  Unlike the other Gospels, he provides a detail about what Jesus used.  He made ‘a whip out of cords’ (John 2:15).  Such a whip would not have been swung like a great bullwhip or cracked in the air like a ringmaster of a circus might.  It had been quickly fashioned from cords that might have been used in this ‘market’ that He found in the temple.  He used what came to hand, not to hurt or to maim, but to demonstrate his anger.

Little things: things that have much to teach us, if we let them.  What little things do you use daily that might have something to teach you ... if only to remind you of Jesus?

Parking Prayer

(That’s parking as an adjective; I’m not talking about pushing prayer to one side and forgetting about it ... far from it!)

I once had a friend who went to a busy town for her shopping.  As she approached the town centre, she would pray that she’d be able to find a parking space.  It worked.  She was always able to park close to the shops, rain or shine.  From time to time an article appears that has been written by a businessman who’s been successful and made his fortune as a result of prayer.  Prayer has certainly worked for such people as this, who have committed their commercial activities to the Lord.

I recall a time when I was getting a bit concerned about my own financial situation.  My thoughts were in this direction when I sat down for my daily prayers, and I mentioned this to the Lord.  Within a day or two the downward trend had reversed.  Prayer worked for me too.  As I gave thanks in later days I found myself asking, ‘Why?’  Why does God answer what some might term ‘selfish’ prayers ... those when we ask for something which is, prima facie, solely for our own well-being?  Can it be some kind of divine magic, a ‘fringe benefit’ of being a believer?  Is it a kind of reward: ‘pray to me and I’ll give you what you want?’  Well, in a way it is.  After all, Jesus did say, ‘Ask and it will be given to you … everyone who asks receives’ (Luke 11:9-10), but I’m sure there’s more to it than that.

Jesus also said, ‘From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded’ (Luke 12:48), implying that there are strings attached, responsibilities which go along with all the gifts and talents which we possess.  So what are the strings attached when we find a parking space, or receive commercial success as a result of prayer?  Let me make one suggestion, and then leave it to your own imagination to carry the thought further.

Remember when Jesus healed the man who had been born blind.  You can look it up afresh at John 9:1-7.  Jesus said that he had been born blind ‘so that the works of God might be displayed in him’ (v.3).  From the furore that was stirred up as a result of his being healed, we can certainly say that his new, seeing life was fruitful in that respect.  So what about us?  If we gain some benefit as a result of our prayers being granted, are we not duty bound to put that benefit to good use?  In the case of my friend, she was able to take less time for her shopping trips, and would be home earlier to prepare something special for her children’s tea.  The successful businessman could donate some of his profits to charities, or might be using them to support his own ministry.

Finally, a health warning: closing one’s eyes for prayer whilst driving around car parks could have other than beneficial effects!