If you drive a motor car, you will probably have seen this phenomenon from time to time, or may even have been guilty of it yourself. The possibilities are quite sinister. Suppose your vehicle indicates left when you’re approaching a junction, but you intend to go straight on. Unless he realised that you haven’t slowed down, someone waiting to emerge from the junction could pull out in front of you and a serious accident could result. Equally, I have been sitting at a junction waiting for an oncoming vehicle to pass me when, with no signal, he turns into my road. I grumble about wasted time, thinking, ‘a signal would have helped!’ and my mind is temporarily distracted from the road ahead of me.
As a time-served professional driver, I’m aghast at the behaviour of some drivers on our roads today. Most of the faults I've seen are rooted either in selfishness or carelessness and it’s sometimes obvious that one feeds on the other. (As you can probably tell, this is something of a hobby-horse for me so - before we explore what lessons these examples have for us - I'll suggest, in fairness, a possible reason for an indicator signalling wrongly: if a driver is unfamiliar with the locality but knows he has to take a left turn, he may indicate but, on approaching the junction, realise that he really needs the next turning instead, and so he leaves the indicator operating.)
Matthew reports a parable that Jesus told, about two brothers (Matt. 21:28-30). Their father asked them to go and work in his vineyard. One said he wouldn’t, but later changed his mind and went, while the other said he would go, but didn’t. This might be the first Bible story that these misleading signals bring to your mind. The purpose of the parable, however, wasn’t just a lesson in honesty, but to explain to the religious leaders that simply saying they wanted to do God’s will wasn’t enough: they had to follow through with the appropriate deeds!
St Paul had never been to the city of Colossae, but he was aware of the church that had been founded there, and was concerned that its members should follow the true teaching about Jesus. He was concerned that there were teachers among them who hinted at specialised knowledge and powers that only certain people were privileged to possess. They were deceiving the rank and file with ‘fine sounding arguments’ (Col. 2:4) and ‘hollow and deceptive philosophy’ (v. 8), but Paul was keen to make it clear that the requirement was to receive Jesus as Lord, but not only to receive Him, but to live their lives according to His teaching alone (vv. 6-7). Paul expands on this in the remainder of the chapter. Indeed the focus of the whole letter is devoted to this essential clarification.
So how do you react to incorrect signals? You might assume that the driver will do as his signals suggest: that if says he’s going to turn out of your way, then he will, and you’re safe to proceed across his path. If you are more experienced, you watch his wheels, assess his speed and, recognising the false wink, wait until he has passed. When it comes to spiritual signals, if someone comes to you with a high-flying scheme, guaranteeing your salvation if you recite certain words, or pay a subscription, do you simply follow his recommendations? Or do you let the Holy Spirit guide you? It's worth remembering that Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6).
Monday, 24 December 2018
Thursday, 20 December 2018
Did You Spell-check That?
Have you noticed that, however much technology advances, some of the underlying problems remain the same? Take for example what I
Monday, 17 December 2018
Weeds
One of my minor claims to fame is that I was at school with prominent organic gardening authority Bob Flowerdew. I have no
Saturday, 15 December 2018
Christmas Bells
A bell - whether it be a little one on a hotel desk, or one in the tower of a church or another great building - is no good unless it moves, in order for the clapper to strike the bow and make a sound. In other words, bells are of little use without fittings. Key among the fittings of a bell, such as those I ring regularly, is the headstock. This is a large block of steel (formerly wood) mounted on bearings at either end, to support the weight of the bell as it moves. The bell is fastened securely to this by metal straps and bolts so that it is secure at all times.
The other critical elements are the wheel and a rope, by means of which the bell can be rotated, thus causing it to ring out. Each element has its own part to play in creating the overall effect. The bell doesn't ring unless someone pulls on the rope. And even then, some bells don't make a sound because they have suffered a lack of maintenance. The bearings may have seized up, through lack of lubrication; the wheel might be broken, the rope might have broken or been nibbled away by mice or - worst of all - the clapper might have fallen out!
In another place, I have made use of the motto Dic verbo lux mundi. It means "Tell out the word, the light of the world." It could be said to be one of the aims of this blog. The focus of Christmas isn't the bright lights and decorations - beautiful though many of them are; it's not the giving and receiving of presents - nice thought these can be; it's not the mistletoe hung in the doorway - pleasant though the kisses beneath may be! The real message of Christmas is the coming into the world of Jesus, the Son of God. In the introduction to his Gospel - often used as a Christmas reading in churches - John referred to Jesus as both the Word and the Light (John 1:1-5). Jesus was born in a stable and, in his adult ministry, described himself as the Light of the World (John 8:12).
I said that each element plays a part in a bell sounding out; taking that a stage further, the normal sound of 'change-ringing' that is heard across the English countryside is only possible when a number of ringers combine their pulling of those ropes in a systematic way. The characteristic sound that many find soothing is only possible as a result of teamwork, with each ringer following his own particular path in the overall pattern of changes. In the same way each limb or organ has a particular role in the function of the body, as St Paul wrote (1 Cor. 12:12-22) when comparing the church to a human body. So, too, each individual member plays a part in the work of the church. And, especially at this time of year, that work is telling about the birth of Jesus and proclaiming the angels' message of joy, peace and goodwill to all people.
I wish all my readers a very Happy Christmas ... do enjoy those Christmas bells!
The other critical elements are the wheel and a rope, by means of which the bell can be rotated, thus causing it to ring out. Each element has its own part to play in creating the overall effect. The bell doesn't ring unless someone pulls on the rope. And even then, some bells don't make a sound because they have suffered a lack of maintenance. The bearings may have seized up, through lack of lubrication; the wheel might be broken, the rope might have broken or been nibbled away by mice or - worst of all - the clapper might have fallen out!
In another place, I have made use of the motto Dic verbo lux mundi. It means "Tell out the word, the light of the world." It could be said to be one of the aims of this blog. The focus of Christmas isn't the bright lights and decorations - beautiful though many of them are; it's not the giving and receiving of presents - nice thought these can be; it's not the mistletoe hung in the doorway - pleasant though the kisses beneath may be! The real message of Christmas is the coming into the world of Jesus, the Son of God. In the introduction to his Gospel - often used as a Christmas reading in churches - John referred to Jesus as both the Word and the Light (John 1:1-5). Jesus was born in a stable and, in his adult ministry, described himself as the Light of the World (John 8:12).
I said that each element plays a part in a bell sounding out; taking that a stage further, the normal sound of 'change-ringing' that is heard across the English countryside is only possible when a number of ringers combine their pulling of those ropes in a systematic way. The characteristic sound that many find soothing is only possible as a result of teamwork, with each ringer following his own particular path in the overall pattern of changes. In the same way each limb or organ has a particular role in the function of the body, as St Paul wrote (1 Cor. 12:12-22) when comparing the church to a human body. So, too, each individual member plays a part in the work of the church. And, especially at this time of year, that work is telling about the birth of Jesus and proclaiming the angels' message of joy, peace and goodwill to all people.
I wish all my readers a very Happy Christmas ... do enjoy those Christmas bells!
Thursday, 13 December 2018
Ironing
It may seem strange, but yes, I like ironing. There's a great satisfaction in converting a wrinkled mass into a smooth surface, knowing that it's clean and will be a delight to wear or sleep in next time it's brought out for use. When I was married I used to iron all my wife's blouses, which brought the added enjoyment of her perfume wafting up as I worked. In response, as it were, she sometimes ironed my shirts and handkerchiefs, and that's where the trouble began.
I was reminded of this the other day as I ironed a shirt and wondered about the sleeve seams: should the seam be seen from the front or from the rear of the wearer? I thought of the arguments we'd had about putting creases in my shirt cuffs, and the folding of hankies. The important thing, I now realise twenty years later, was not the precision of folding, the presence or absence of creases, nor even who ironed them, but that we should be comfortable and smart as a result of the ironing itself.
So, what has this to do with our Faith? Well, for a start, take a look at the rag-tag mix that Jesus chose as his disciples. There was a revenue official, in the hands of the Roman occupiers, probably - like all his pals - a grasping individual, out for all he could squeeze out of the people to line his own pockets. There was a political activist; another one, probably a foreigner, who was not always honest and yet was put in charge of the disciples' common funds. And there were lots of smelly fishermen; Peter was one of those, and you never met one more likely to speak first and think afterwards. All together, I guess they were the sort of crowd that you'd cross the road to be out of the way of. They certainly weren't a uniform - let alone uniformed - bunch!
Look, then, at the mix of churches that have grown up in their wake over the last 2,000 years. They meet in buildings ranging from ornate cathedrals, to simple stone- or brick-work, to tin shacks or ... just the shade of a tree. Think about the worship, too: there are places filled with incense, candles, exquisite anthems and intricate liturgies; there is loud modern music and dance; there is silence broken only by a few wise words, space for deep thought; there is regular repetition and spiritual spontaneity. You could be forgiven for saying, 'Anything goes!'
And it does. Because what's important is the relationship between each individual and his Maker. If it's going to work, it has to be a relationship based solely on faith, on a simple, uncluttered belief in that one true God and His Son, Jesus, the Christ or Saviour, who lived a human life in order to share all that we go through in our lives, and died in our place to save us from the price of our sins. "Whoever believes in the Son," wrote John, "has eternal life." (John 3:36).
Does it matter how we live, then? Of course it does, but not in the finest detail like the creases in shirt sleeves. The prophet Micah, writing in the 8th century BC, asked how he (and by extrapolation, we) should worship. What should he offer? To his question, 'what does the Lord require of you?' came the answer "To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly (or prudently) with your God." (Micah 6:6-8).
God wants us to relate to him with a love that prompts us to respond in ways that love each other the way He loves us (John 15:12). All the rest of the detail is comfortable ironing: it makes us look good and feel smart, but it doesn't change what's underneath, which is what He sees in us.
I was reminded of this the other day as I ironed a shirt and wondered about the sleeve seams: should the seam be seen from the front or from the rear of the wearer? I thought of the arguments we'd had about putting creases in my shirt cuffs, and the folding of hankies. The important thing, I now realise twenty years later, was not the precision of folding, the presence or absence of creases, nor even who ironed them, but that we should be comfortable and smart as a result of the ironing itself.
So, what has this to do with our Faith? Well, for a start, take a look at the rag-tag mix that Jesus chose as his disciples. There was a revenue official, in the hands of the Roman occupiers, probably - like all his pals - a grasping individual, out for all he could squeeze out of the people to line his own pockets. There was a political activist; another one, probably a foreigner, who was not always honest and yet was put in charge of the disciples' common funds. And there were lots of smelly fishermen; Peter was one of those, and you never met one more likely to speak first and think afterwards. All together, I guess they were the sort of crowd that you'd cross the road to be out of the way of. They certainly weren't a uniform - let alone uniformed - bunch!
Look, then, at the mix of churches that have grown up in their wake over the last 2,000 years. They meet in buildings ranging from ornate cathedrals, to simple stone- or brick-work, to tin shacks or ... just the shade of a tree. Think about the worship, too: there are places filled with incense, candles, exquisite anthems and intricate liturgies; there is loud modern music and dance; there is silence broken only by a few wise words, space for deep thought; there is regular repetition and spiritual spontaneity. You could be forgiven for saying, 'Anything goes!'
And it does. Because what's important is the relationship between each individual and his Maker. If it's going to work, it has to be a relationship based solely on faith, on a simple, uncluttered belief in that one true God and His Son, Jesus, the Christ or Saviour, who lived a human life in order to share all that we go through in our lives, and died in our place to save us from the price of our sins. "Whoever believes in the Son," wrote John, "has eternal life." (John 3:36).
Does it matter how we live, then? Of course it does, but not in the finest detail like the creases in shirt sleeves. The prophet Micah, writing in the 8th century BC, asked how he (and by extrapolation, we) should worship. What should he offer? To his question, 'what does the Lord require of you?' came the answer "To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly (or prudently) with your God." (Micah 6:6-8).
God wants us to relate to him with a love that prompts us to respond in ways that love each other the way He loves us (John 15:12). All the rest of the detail is comfortable ironing: it makes us look good and feel smart, but it doesn't change what's underneath, which is what He sees in us.
When a Joke Becomes Deadly Serious
A few of us were gathered in the pub the other week when, for reasons that now escape me, the subject of humour came to the fore. One friend said,
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