I'll confess it up front ... I'm guilty of diverting from my stated aim. This blog doesn't specifically refer to an everyday article, theme or circumstance. Instead, I'm hoping my illustration will prompt a parallel thought in the minds of my readers that will, in turn, focus their minds on the fundamental point.
One of my great hobbies is bell-ringing; I've been at it for fifty years or so, off and on, and - as I admitted to someone recently - I find it difficult to appreciate what it's like not to know things that to me are, after that length of time, second nature. If you've never tried, it may surprise you that one of the most difficult aspects of learning to ring is the language! If you visit a foreign country, aware that they speak a different language, you might well seek out a good dictionary and do some homework in advance. This isn't a different language, however, it's all English ... but a lot of everyday words have different from everyday meanings.
To make things worse, there are instances where the same thing is known equally by two or more different words: had you ever considered that both 'over' and 'to' could mean 'after'? Or that 'in', 'down' or 'to the front' could actually mean 'earlier'. And then there are normal English words, that not only preserve their 'proper' meaning, but also have a specific and totally different one as well, such as 'lead': it appears in its literal meaning as in 'take the lead in doing something'; but a lead (pronounced in exactly the same way) is also the name given to the basic unit of a method, or pattern, of ringing.
Two intelligent learners who trained with our local band last year focused my attention on this problem ... one that I'd never really appreciated before. In the days when I learned to ring, a beginner remained largely silent and absorbed these things rather by osmosis than by being told. Not so in today's world ... and all the better for that!
This isn't a new phenomenon, of course, and one that is far from confined to bell-ringing. Most hobbies and interests have a jargon all their own that has to be understood by newcomers in order to gain the most satisfaction from them. We can take encouragement from the example of St Paul. In about AD 50, he visited Thessalonica in the north-eastern part of what today is Greece. As a result of a riot, his friends sent him to nearby Berea for safety but the trouble followed him there, so he went further south to Athens, and waited for his friends to join him there later.
Making good use of his time while he was waiting, he chatted to Jews and Greeks in the market place. There he was overheard by some Epicurian and Stoic philosophers who enjoyed the challenge of debating with him. Some called him a babbler; others didn't understand what he was saying about Jesus and the resurrection, and thought he was talking about two foreign gods. It was a far cry from Paul's intended message about the One True God! (You can find the whole story in Acts 17:10-21).
During the autumn, I took part in a ringing outing, and overheard a conversation between our organiser and the man who had met us at one of the churches we visited. He was explaining about a young learner he'd taught a while ago. "He just didn't get it," he said, "He couldn't see how we knew which bell to follow when we were ringing a method. Then one day, he realised what we meant, what we'd been trying to explain one way or another for ages. He suddenly shouted, 'I get it!' and then there was no holding him. In a few months he was ringing stuff I could never master!"
Just like that trainer, and St Paul, those explaining the Christian faith are faced time after time by folks who simply can't grasp the fundamental but far-reaching simplicity of faith. We don't have to earn our salvation ... it's already been won, once for all, by Jesus on the Cross. All we have to do is accept that, for what it is ... a gift.
At Christmas time, we celebrate the gift of Jesus arriving on earth in the form of a tiny, vulnerable baby, born to a humble family in the Middle East. Each year our church is transformed for a living tableau illustrating 'The Christmas Journey'. Over the course of a week hundreds of primary school children, along with their teachers, pass through our doors to see a portrayal of the real story of Christmas. It's surprising how many of them had no idea what this great festival time is all about ... and sometimes quite moving to witness their emotional reaction!
If you have been trying for years, whether in terms of Christmas, Easter or purely in everyday conversation, to explain your faith to someone close to you, take heart from the example of Paul. Think how many thousands - millions, even - owe their faith to his determination not to give up.
Sunday, 15 December 2019
Sunday, 1 December 2019
Give us a King!
Squabbles over gender equality and gender superiority are nothing new. I learned as a child a little rhyme, "Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can: Often in a woman, but never in a man!" Depending who used it and their strength of feeling, those adverbs 'often' and 'never' could be exchanged for 'seldom' and 'always' to reverse the meaning completely. My cousin and I would argue to and fro about this, until our attention was diverted by one wise mother or the other. As an adult, I don't believe patience is gender-specific, but it is one of the facets of the 'fruit of the Spirit' that Paul lists in Galatians 5:22 (sometimes disguised as 'long-suffering' or 'forbearance').
Although it's elusive, patience is essential in many areas of life. I understand, for example, that the early opening of the oven door to see whether the cake is cooked can lead to its ruin and, in carpentry, cutting the wood without careful measurement and marking is equally disastrous. I once had a friend whose decorating skills were in great demand; he always said that a good job was 90% preparation and 10% application.
The same is true in politics, it seems. One of our leaders has repeatedly stated his aim to 'get Brexit done' so that attention can be focused on matters that are vital to our nation's livelihood. Many sources agree, however, that parliamentary approval of a deal will be not the end, but the beginning of several more years of negotiation to secure trade deals to replace those we will abandon.
When encouraging me to be patient, my father used to say that on his school exercise books was written, "If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing well." Another of our leaders seems to have used the same books. He advocates (another) re-negotiation. When asked for his personal view, he seems to evade the question and argue that the reason for doing this is simply that 'it's what the people want'... or at least what they wanted a few years ago.
If you read 1 Samuel, chapter 8 (it's not that long), you will see that the people of Israel asked Samuel to give them a king. In his wisdom, Samuel knew this would be a bad move but, after prayer, words of caution and more prayer, he gave in and did what they wanted. It didn't end well. In the centuries that followed, one disaster seems to have followed another and the one thing that was missing was what the people had given up ... following God's ways.
I've recently been reading from the penultimate book of the Old Testament and discovered this verse. "Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel." (Zechariah 11:14). This was part of one of the prophet's many visions of the future. A few lines further on, I read of "a [foolish] shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves." (v.16).
It seemed to me that the first of these parallels Brexit, breaking the family bond between this country and the rest of Europe, and the second underlines the way that our country has been neglected by its 'shepherd' as those in authority have focused all attention on Brexit, to the exclusion of wise government in many areas.
I'm reminded of my father once more and on this occasion, as a comparatively uneducated man, of his correct use of the subjunctive. I had done something wrong and was being interrogated as to my reasons for this. Trying to pass the blame onto someone else, I pleaded, "... because (my friend) told me to." My father dismissed my excuse, "And I suppose if he were to tell you to jump in the Mere, you'd do that, too?" (The Mere was the lake in the middle of our town, in which many have drowned over the years.) My defence having failed, I was duly punished.
So, what do we learn from all this? Two things, I suggest. Firstly, if we really want Brexit, we have to be patient and realise that it won't 'get done' quickly, but will mean many more years' uncertainty in addition to the last three-and-a-half. Secondly, that 'what the people want' is not sufficient justification for poor judgement on the part of government. St Paul wrote, "I will show you the most excellent way." (1 Cor. 12:31). In the often-quoted chapter that follows, he defines the meaning of love. Two verses jump out. "love is patient, love is kind ... it does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking" (1 Cor. 13:4-5).
Zechariah's 'foolish shepherd' met an unpleasant end because of his irresponsible conduct; Samuel saw the hazards involved in giving the people what they wanted. If we get what (it appears that) we want, it may well not be to our advantage. Applying these truths to our individual lives, the moral seems to be 'have patience, seek what God wants.' Maybe we should ask ourselves where we lack patience.
Although it's elusive, patience is essential in many areas of life. I understand, for example, that the early opening of the oven door to see whether the cake is cooked can lead to its ruin and, in carpentry, cutting the wood without careful measurement and marking is equally disastrous. I once had a friend whose decorating skills were in great demand; he always said that a good job was 90% preparation and 10% application.
The same is true in politics, it seems. One of our leaders has repeatedly stated his aim to 'get Brexit done' so that attention can be focused on matters that are vital to our nation's livelihood. Many sources agree, however, that parliamentary approval of a deal will be not the end, but the beginning of several more years of negotiation to secure trade deals to replace those we will abandon.
When encouraging me to be patient, my father used to say that on his school exercise books was written, "If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing well." Another of our leaders seems to have used the same books. He advocates (another) re-negotiation. When asked for his personal view, he seems to evade the question and argue that the reason for doing this is simply that 'it's what the people want'... or at least what they wanted a few years ago.
If you read 1 Samuel, chapter 8 (it's not that long), you will see that the people of Israel asked Samuel to give them a king. In his wisdom, Samuel knew this would be a bad move but, after prayer, words of caution and more prayer, he gave in and did what they wanted. It didn't end well. In the centuries that followed, one disaster seems to have followed another and the one thing that was missing was what the people had given up ... following God's ways.
I've recently been reading from the penultimate book of the Old Testament and discovered this verse. "Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel." (Zechariah 11:14). This was part of one of the prophet's many visions of the future. A few lines further on, I read of "a [foolish] shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves." (v.16).
It seemed to me that the first of these parallels Brexit, breaking the family bond between this country and the rest of Europe, and the second underlines the way that our country has been neglected by its 'shepherd' as those in authority have focused all attention on Brexit, to the exclusion of wise government in many areas.
I'm reminded of my father once more and on this occasion, as a comparatively uneducated man, of his correct use of the subjunctive. I had done something wrong and was being interrogated as to my reasons for this. Trying to pass the blame onto someone else, I pleaded, "... because (my friend) told me to." My father dismissed my excuse, "And I suppose if he were to tell you to jump in the Mere, you'd do that, too?" (The Mere was the lake in the middle of our town, in which many have drowned over the years.) My defence having failed, I was duly punished.
So, what do we learn from all this? Two things, I suggest. Firstly, if we really want Brexit, we have to be patient and realise that it won't 'get done' quickly, but will mean many more years' uncertainty in addition to the last three-and-a-half. Secondly, that 'what the people want' is not sufficient justification for poor judgement on the part of government. St Paul wrote, "I will show you the most excellent way." (1 Cor. 12:31). In the often-quoted chapter that follows, he defines the meaning of love. Two verses jump out. "love is patient, love is kind ... it does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking" (1 Cor. 13:4-5).
Zechariah's 'foolish shepherd' met an unpleasant end because of his irresponsible conduct; Samuel saw the hazards involved in giving the people what they wanted. If we get what (it appears that) we want, it may well not be to our advantage. Applying these truths to our individual lives, the moral seems to be 'have patience, seek what God wants.' Maybe we should ask ourselves where we lack patience.
Friday, 15 November 2019
Not Just Poppies!
A couple of weeks before the Remembrance commemorations last weekend, I read a review of Armistice celebrations from past years in which it was pointed out that, alone among the countries of Europe, Britain has, for many years, seen the event only from its own point of view: 'Britain standing alone against the foe', and has ignored fact that, at those times, we did have the continuing co-operation of our colonies, often at a disadvantage to themselves, and of other nations under government-in-exile.
A few years ago, the Royal British Legion had a slogan, 'Wear your poppy with pride'; but just what do we mean by 'with pride'? Is it pride for a victory in war, a gesture of triumph? Or is it pride in the sacrifice of heroic lives? Some were so disgusted at these possibilities that they took to wearing white poppies, simply symbolising peace.
Last year's commemoration focused on the centenary of the end of the Great War and now, following an enquiry from a distant cousin challenged by a school project "World War I and my family", my thoughts have turned once again to the number of lives wasted; four years of slaughter in the mud, a generation destroyed ... and for what? Peeled back to the bare bones, I suggest, it was to satisfy national pride, or even - thinking of the circumstances surrounding the Kaiser's birth - the ultimate result of a midwife's mistake!
But I want this post to be forward-looking ... what comes after the conflict? I've recently been reading the story of the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BC, as reflected in the writings of Jeremiah. For centuries, Jeremiah and other prophets had warned the people about their lifestyle, which was contrary to the Covenant God had made with them when He brought them out of slavery in Egypt. At last the penalty had to be paid; they lost their precious temple and their city. But, amidst all the threats and warnings, there is an indication of what will follow. Despite what appears to be a devastating end to the relationship, there is hope for the future in the promise of a new Covenant (Jer. 31:31-33).
A J P Taylor and other historians have suggested that the very one-sided Treaty of Versailles at the end of the First World War was a contributory cause of the Second. It heaped all the blame on Germany and imposed swingeing reparation terms in addition to the loss of territory and of its colonies. Certainly, it gave Hitler a cause that he could exploit to persuade sufficient of the population to elect him to power in 1933.
Contrast this situation with the way that God dealt with the people of Judah. Even before the invasion by the Babylonians, there was a promise of reconciliation. This is, after all, what God always desires, that his people can dwell together in unity (Ps. 133:1). In our Remembrance service on Sunday there were prayers for the recognition of the sins and shortcomings of the world: pride, selfishness, greed, evil division and hatreds; and of our share in what is wrong and failure to seek and establish the peace that God wills for His children.
This search for reconciliation is relevant to so much in our lives today. It's not just the poppies and all they stand for, but present-day areas of strife and conflict as well. At a personal level there is often discord between and within families, and within our communities there are clear needs for understanding, co-operation and reconciliation, and especially following Brexit ... whichever way things turn out in the coming months.
Each of us must answer the question, "What reconciling action are you being called to right now?"
A few years ago, the Royal British Legion had a slogan, 'Wear your poppy with pride'; but just what do we mean by 'with pride'? Is it pride for a victory in war, a gesture of triumph? Or is it pride in the sacrifice of heroic lives? Some were so disgusted at these possibilities that they took to wearing white poppies, simply symbolising peace.
Last year's commemoration focused on the centenary of the end of the Great War and now, following an enquiry from a distant cousin challenged by a school project "World War I and my family", my thoughts have turned once again to the number of lives wasted; four years of slaughter in the mud, a generation destroyed ... and for what? Peeled back to the bare bones, I suggest, it was to satisfy national pride, or even - thinking of the circumstances surrounding the Kaiser's birth - the ultimate result of a midwife's mistake!
But I want this post to be forward-looking ... what comes after the conflict? I've recently been reading the story of the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BC, as reflected in the writings of Jeremiah. For centuries, Jeremiah and other prophets had warned the people about their lifestyle, which was contrary to the Covenant God had made with them when He brought them out of slavery in Egypt. At last the penalty had to be paid; they lost their precious temple and their city. But, amidst all the threats and warnings, there is an indication of what will follow. Despite what appears to be a devastating end to the relationship, there is hope for the future in the promise of a new Covenant (Jer. 31:31-33).
A J P Taylor and other historians have suggested that the very one-sided Treaty of Versailles at the end of the First World War was a contributory cause of the Second. It heaped all the blame on Germany and imposed swingeing reparation terms in addition to the loss of territory and of its colonies. Certainly, it gave Hitler a cause that he could exploit to persuade sufficient of the population to elect him to power in 1933.
Contrast this situation with the way that God dealt with the people of Judah. Even before the invasion by the Babylonians, there was a promise of reconciliation. This is, after all, what God always desires, that his people can dwell together in unity (Ps. 133:1). In our Remembrance service on Sunday there were prayers for the recognition of the sins and shortcomings of the world: pride, selfishness, greed, evil division and hatreds; and of our share in what is wrong and failure to seek and establish the peace that God wills for His children.
This search for reconciliation is relevant to so much in our lives today. It's not just the poppies and all they stand for, but present-day areas of strife and conflict as well. At a personal level there is often discord between and within families, and within our communities there are clear needs for understanding, co-operation and reconciliation, and especially following Brexit ... whichever way things turn out in the coming months.
Each of us must answer the question, "What reconciling action are you being called to right now?"
Friday, 1 November 2019
Before it All Goes Pear-shaped
I'm sure I'm not the only one who, from time to time, has had this experience. Something goes wrong, and results in a sickening feeling in which my predominant thought begins, "If only ..."
My mind goes back to teenage, when I was given a big shelf clock. It stood perhaps 40 cm. high and was quite beautiful; its only problem was that it didn't go. Keen on finding out what was wrong, I attacked it rapidly with whatever tools were to hand. Suddenly the spring 'exploded' and shattered other parts that, in my ignorance, I had loosened. Instantly, a condition of 'not going' was transformed into 'completely ruined'. Occasionally in the intervening years I've thought regretfully about this chain of events and the fact that I don't now have a clock to show for them. It seems quite likely that it could have simply needed a professional clean and appropriate lubrication to unleash many more years of useful service. If only ...
A few weeks ago, I attended a training session devoted to 'manual handling and working at height'. One of the situations described by the trainer was one I could easily imagine. Someone is using a ladder to reach items stored on a shelf above head height. He needs to retrieve something that is just beyond his reach while standing erect on the ladder. Instead of coming down, shifting the ladder and re-ascending, he holds the shelf with one hand while leaning and reaching with the other to gather the item he wants. This shifts his centre of gravity beyond the base of the ladder, with the result that he falls and sustains injury. If only ...
My Bible reading has recently led me through Luke's gospel and in particular verses in chapter 14, where Jesus is teaching about the cost of discipleship (Luke 14:28-32). Here are two short parables that could prove relevant here. Whether it's building a tower (some translations say it's a barn) or fighting a war, the meaning is clear: work out first what it will need, what it's going to cost you, before going ahead. It's what the professionals call 'carrying out a risk assessment' and it's very common in any kind of business activity, in both the commercial and charitable sectors.
But I'm going to suggest an additional step. In the Bible, both Psalms and Proverbs offer an endless source of good advice to the intelligent reader and I'd like to direct you to just three verses. The first is from Proverbs, and reminds me of that clock episode. "The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty." (Prov. 22:5). We hear in respect of commercial deals about the need to 'carry out due diligence'; in this context, the diligence advocated is, in my opinion, defined by my second verse. "Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken" (Psalm 55:22). In other words, before building a tower, fighting a war, dismantling a clock or anything else that is important, call on the Lord in prayer, asking for wisdom and an awareness of all that the project involves, before deciding to go ahead with it.
My third verse was also culled for this article, but I find it summarises the way of my spiritual life. "Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life." (Psalm 143:8). I'm not saying I obey it faultlessly - who could? - but at least I open myself to God's leading. If I choose not to follow what He advises, in the words of a familiar saying, 'on my own head be it'!
My mind goes back to teenage, when I was given a big shelf clock. It stood perhaps 40 cm. high and was quite beautiful; its only problem was that it didn't go. Keen on finding out what was wrong, I attacked it rapidly with whatever tools were to hand. Suddenly the spring 'exploded' and shattered other parts that, in my ignorance, I had loosened. Instantly, a condition of 'not going' was transformed into 'completely ruined'. Occasionally in the intervening years I've thought regretfully about this chain of events and the fact that I don't now have a clock to show for them. It seems quite likely that it could have simply needed a professional clean and appropriate lubrication to unleash many more years of useful service. If only ...
A few weeks ago, I attended a training session devoted to 'manual handling and working at height'. One of the situations described by the trainer was one I could easily imagine. Someone is using a ladder to reach items stored on a shelf above head height. He needs to retrieve something that is just beyond his reach while standing erect on the ladder. Instead of coming down, shifting the ladder and re-ascending, he holds the shelf with one hand while leaning and reaching with the other to gather the item he wants. This shifts his centre of gravity beyond the base of the ladder, with the result that he falls and sustains injury. If only ...
My Bible reading has recently led me through Luke's gospel and in particular verses in chapter 14, where Jesus is teaching about the cost of discipleship (Luke 14:28-32). Here are two short parables that could prove relevant here. Whether it's building a tower (some translations say it's a barn) or fighting a war, the meaning is clear: work out first what it will need, what it's going to cost you, before going ahead. It's what the professionals call 'carrying out a risk assessment' and it's very common in any kind of business activity, in both the commercial and charitable sectors.
But I'm going to suggest an additional step. In the Bible, both Psalms and Proverbs offer an endless source of good advice to the intelligent reader and I'd like to direct you to just three verses. The first is from Proverbs, and reminds me of that clock episode. "The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty." (Prov. 22:5). We hear in respect of commercial deals about the need to 'carry out due diligence'; in this context, the diligence advocated is, in my opinion, defined by my second verse. "Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken" (Psalm 55:22). In other words, before building a tower, fighting a war, dismantling a clock or anything else that is important, call on the Lord in prayer, asking for wisdom and an awareness of all that the project involves, before deciding to go ahead with it.
My third verse was also culled for this article, but I find it summarises the way of my spiritual life. "Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life." (Psalm 143:8). I'm not saying I obey it faultlessly - who could? - but at least I open myself to God's leading. If I choose not to follow what He advises, in the words of a familiar saying, 'on my own head be it'!
Tuesday, 15 October 2019
Keep it to Yourself
I've stopped being amazed by the extent to which the media can - and does - pry into the personal and private lives of public figures. Whether it's pop stars, politicians or members of the royal family ... or simply the proverbial 'man (or woman) in the street', it seems that no one is immune from the revelation of their most intimate secrets. I suppose in certain instances making known these details - provided they're true - is in the public interest if it prevents someone unsuitable from having particular responsibilities. However, I'm convinced that, in the majority of cases, much more is revealed than is justified, purely for commercial gain and the titillation of consumers.
Jesus himself was vulnerable to public awareness. Often after performing a miraculous healing, He exhorted the one healed not to tell anyone about it (e.g. Matt. 9:30, 12:16; Luke 5:14, 8:56) ... not always successfully (Matt. 9:31, Luke 5:15)! Many have wondered why He did this; some theologians and commentators suggest that the time wasn't right, or the place, and that it didn't fit in with Jesus' plan for His ministry. I wonder whether it might be linked to His experiences in the wilderness, where He was tempted by the Devil (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13). Those temptations involved his bodily needs, the possession of ultimate power and His personal renown. I think He tried to steer away from fame as a healer just as he refused to jump from the Temple roof. It wasn't His aim simply to become a supernatural celebrity.
Against the background of these thoughts, I watched a woman on the bus either taking something from, or putting something into her handbag. It was the bag itself that fascinated me. It was long and black, with a zip at each end. But these zips didn't meet in the middle; here there was a simple stud holding the sides together. The bag was thus divided into three sections, possibly separated within; at the ends the contents were comparatively secure while at the centre would be those items more frequently required.
I thought how clever this design was, for not all things are of equal importance and some possessions demand greater protection than others. When St Paul wrote about the body, he noted that "the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty." (1 Cor. 12:23). Paul was writing about a corporate body, the 'body of Christ' - in other words the church - but he wouldn't have compared the principles of which he was trying to convince his readers to aspects of a physical body if the comparison weren't sound teaching.
It does seem that some sections of today's society are incapable of distinguishing what bits of life ought to be in which part of that excellently-designed handbag: what can be made public and what should remain 'behind closed doors'. Perhaps the answer is to reflect on our motives and consider the example of our Lord. If the aim of what we are about to reveal on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram is simply to enhance our own celebrity, then maybe we should think again.
Jesus himself was vulnerable to public awareness. Often after performing a miraculous healing, He exhorted the one healed not to tell anyone about it (e.g. Matt. 9:30, 12:16; Luke 5:14, 8:56) ... not always successfully (Matt. 9:31, Luke 5:15)! Many have wondered why He did this; some theologians and commentators suggest that the time wasn't right, or the place, and that it didn't fit in with Jesus' plan for His ministry. I wonder whether it might be linked to His experiences in the wilderness, where He was tempted by the Devil (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13). Those temptations involved his bodily needs, the possession of ultimate power and His personal renown. I think He tried to steer away from fame as a healer just as he refused to jump from the Temple roof. It wasn't His aim simply to become a supernatural celebrity.
Against the background of these thoughts, I watched a woman on the bus either taking something from, or putting something into her handbag. It was the bag itself that fascinated me. It was long and black, with a zip at each end. But these zips didn't meet in the middle; here there was a simple stud holding the sides together. The bag was thus divided into three sections, possibly separated within; at the ends the contents were comparatively secure while at the centre would be those items more frequently required.
I thought how clever this design was, for not all things are of equal importance and some possessions demand greater protection than others. When St Paul wrote about the body, he noted that "the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty." (1 Cor. 12:23). Paul was writing about a corporate body, the 'body of Christ' - in other words the church - but he wouldn't have compared the principles of which he was trying to convince his readers to aspects of a physical body if the comparison weren't sound teaching.
It does seem that some sections of today's society are incapable of distinguishing what bits of life ought to be in which part of that excellently-designed handbag: what can be made public and what should remain 'behind closed doors'. Perhaps the answer is to reflect on our motives and consider the example of our Lord. If the aim of what we are about to reveal on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram is simply to enhance our own celebrity, then maybe we should think again.
Tuesday, 1 October 2019
Getting it into Perspective
Someone once said there are two certainties in life: death and taxes. I suggest there's a third ... you never know what's round the corner. Next week I shall be travelling to Yorkshire for the funeral of a dear friend, who died last weekend at the age of 95. It's some years since I last saw her but, as with a few others, there's a sort of background to life of which they're always a part. Realising that this is no longer the case has brought into renewed focus the part she played in my life. It's humbling to learn that she had left specific instructions with her son that I was to be told personally of her death. I'm not expecting a bequest ... that comment was ample reward for over 30 years of affection.
Writing at the beginning of what could be this country's last month in the European Union, I have to make some comment about what might be around another corner. Over the last three or four years, that which quickly became known as Brexit has brought many things into sharper focus. At first it was simply the decision to leave or to remain but as the years have dragged on, with the parliamentary impasse about the terms of our leaving and fears about the probable and possible effects of the various alternatives, feelings and emotions have gradually risen to fever pitch.
A friend related last week a conversation he'd had with a man he had always understood to be a Christian. The man had asked him what he thought about our present government. My friend gave a fairly non-committal answer but was somewhat taken aback by the man's reaction. He told him how useless he thought the present administration was ... and here my friend spoke of the violence and hatred in the man's eyes as he had added, vehemently, "We have to get out! We must get out!"
Stories of violence and hatred abound. Last week there were reports - not for the first time - of death threats against MPs; earlier in the year one female MP felt it was too dangerous to travel home to her constituency for the weekend. Where has all this come from? It's no exaggeration of the significance of Brexit to say that it has all stemmed from this basic issue of to leave the EU or to remain. In the time that the discussion and debate has gone on, feelings on both sides have had the chance to cut deep channels in our society. What was once felt to be a preference is now an absolute necessity ... to the extent, it seems, that almost any measure can be justified to achieve the desired end.
It's now got to the point, I believe, that almost irrespective of their original preference, a large slice of the population just want it out of the way, so that normal life can resume. It's sad to reflect that not until all else has been tried do we turn to prayer. At least, I'm ashamed to admit, that's been the case with me. Nothing else seems able to break the log-jam and bring the whole sorry business to an end. Only, as in the case of the wars of the last century, it won't afterwards be the same 'normal life' that we were used to before it all kicked off.
Many are confident, of course, that what we want is the right outcome, and that therefore God's influence will help to bring it about. No one now alive will remember the appearance of posters during the First World War exaggerating every rumour of Germany's inhumane treatment of 'Poor little Belgium', and explaining how God was on the side of the Allies in the fight against the Hun. I have no doubt that similar posters appeared in Germany and Austria claiming 'Gott ist für uns!'
I don't believe that God was on either side then, and I don't believe he's on either side of this situation. I'm not even sure that God sees sides the same way we do. We are all His children; it's just that the family has had one almighty squabble that isn't going to be resolved quickly. While it goes on, God, like any human parent, has to listen to both parties and tries to get them both to see sense. Whatever the outcome, whether we leave, with a deal or without, or whether we contrive to remain in the Union, there will be many millions in the country who will feel let down, betrayed, violated ... there are so many words to express those desperate emotions.
So, how do we pray? Like many other believers, I've been praying for the success of what I believe to be the right outcome. But I have to remember an important addendum, or codicil, to my prayer. I have to adopt a modicum of humility and admit that, firm as I am in my opinion, I might have got it wrong; more important than 'my side winning' is that the final outcome is what God wants.
Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" (Matt. 5:9). He didn't say "Blessed are those who are right". As I read it, that word 'peacemakers' means those who can accept an outcome that goes the way they don't want, and are not willing to take retributive action - of whatever kind - against those who got their way. And look at the reward that comes to those who are able to offer that hand of friendship! It'll be a bitter pill to swallow, but worth it. And what's the alternative? Hatred is a hungry bedfellow and its chief victim is its host.
Writing at the beginning of what could be this country's last month in the European Union, I have to make some comment about what might be around another corner. Over the last three or four years, that which quickly became known as Brexit has brought many things into sharper focus. At first it was simply the decision to leave or to remain but as the years have dragged on, with the parliamentary impasse about the terms of our leaving and fears about the probable and possible effects of the various alternatives, feelings and emotions have gradually risen to fever pitch.
A friend related last week a conversation he'd had with a man he had always understood to be a Christian. The man had asked him what he thought about our present government. My friend gave a fairly non-committal answer but was somewhat taken aback by the man's reaction. He told him how useless he thought the present administration was ... and here my friend spoke of the violence and hatred in the man's eyes as he had added, vehemently, "We have to get out! We must get out!"
Stories of violence and hatred abound. Last week there were reports - not for the first time - of death threats against MPs; earlier in the year one female MP felt it was too dangerous to travel home to her constituency for the weekend. Where has all this come from? It's no exaggeration of the significance of Brexit to say that it has all stemmed from this basic issue of to leave the EU or to remain. In the time that the discussion and debate has gone on, feelings on both sides have had the chance to cut deep channels in our society. What was once felt to be a preference is now an absolute necessity ... to the extent, it seems, that almost any measure can be justified to achieve the desired end.
It's now got to the point, I believe, that almost irrespective of their original preference, a large slice of the population just want it out of the way, so that normal life can resume. It's sad to reflect that not until all else has been tried do we turn to prayer. At least, I'm ashamed to admit, that's been the case with me. Nothing else seems able to break the log-jam and bring the whole sorry business to an end. Only, as in the case of the wars of the last century, it won't afterwards be the same 'normal life' that we were used to before it all kicked off.
Many are confident, of course, that what we want is the right outcome, and that therefore God's influence will help to bring it about. No one now alive will remember the appearance of posters during the First World War exaggerating every rumour of Germany's inhumane treatment of 'Poor little Belgium', and explaining how God was on the side of the Allies in the fight against the Hun. I have no doubt that similar posters appeared in Germany and Austria claiming 'Gott ist für uns!'
I don't believe that God was on either side then, and I don't believe he's on either side of this situation. I'm not even sure that God sees sides the same way we do. We are all His children; it's just that the family has had one almighty squabble that isn't going to be resolved quickly. While it goes on, God, like any human parent, has to listen to both parties and tries to get them both to see sense. Whatever the outcome, whether we leave, with a deal or without, or whether we contrive to remain in the Union, there will be many millions in the country who will feel let down, betrayed, violated ... there are so many words to express those desperate emotions.
So, how do we pray? Like many other believers, I've been praying for the success of what I believe to be the right outcome. But I have to remember an important addendum, or codicil, to my prayer. I have to adopt a modicum of humility and admit that, firm as I am in my opinion, I might have got it wrong; more important than 'my side winning' is that the final outcome is what God wants.
Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" (Matt. 5:9). He didn't say "Blessed are those who are right". As I read it, that word 'peacemakers' means those who can accept an outcome that goes the way they don't want, and are not willing to take retributive action - of whatever kind - against those who got their way. And look at the reward that comes to those who are able to offer that hand of friendship! It'll be a bitter pill to swallow, but worth it. And what's the alternative? Hatred is a hungry bedfellow and its chief victim is its host.
Sunday, 15 September 2019
Back to the Roots
Sometimes when I visit my cousin, I take advantage of her location and go to a nearby record office to do some research into the history of my uncle's family who lived in that area. After one such trip this week I began to write up what I'd discovered, and follow up with things I can look up on line. I tried to find my uncle and his family on the 1939 Register (a survey made just after the start of World War II that was used in the issue of ration cards and, after the war, in the administration of the Health Service).
One feature of the on line presentation of this record is the provision of a multi-age map showing the location of each address. Having found my uncle's address, Merrils Farm, on the outskirts of Derby, I scrolled down to look at the map. Having also looked at the modern version of the map I realised that, although the farm is no longer there, its location is very close to the road I would have driven on quite often a few years ago when making frequent deliveries to Rolls Royce.
But what amazed me most was the amount of time I spent mesmerised, just looking at that map on my computer screen. My uncle wasn't my direct ancestor and, although I remember his occasional visits with affection, he died when I was only 13. Nevertheless, I was just spellbound by my discovery that I'd often passed near to somewhere that he had lived.
As the current craze - facilitated by advances in digital technology - for interest in family history witnesses, our roots are important to us. The Old Testament tells the story of God's people, the Israelites, who had constantly broken their covenant with God and as a consequence had been exiled from their promised land and were under the control of the rulers first of Assyria, then of Babylon, and later of Persia. After many years, there began a gradual return from exile under Zerubbabel, a prominent Israelite and descendant of King David. The story is told in the early chapters of Ezra. The return took quite a while to get going; eighty years later Ezra himself led another tranche.
After another thirteen years, word came to Nehemiah, who was the cup-bearer to the Persian king, of the state of Jerusalem, still not rebuilt despite the years that Israelites had been back there. Nehemiah was very affected by this news and sought the permission of the King to lead a party to Jerusalem (Nehemiah ch. 1-2). The remainder of his book tells how he followed up God's inspiration to lead the returning Israelites to rebuild their city and to support the priest Ezra in the rekindling of their covenant with God.
I was intrigued by the link with my long-dead uncle; Nehemiah was moved by the derelict state of a city he'd never seen. What is it that is so magnetic about our roots? And what can it teach us? The fundamental lesson is this. God created us for one purpose only: to have a relationship with Him. We are hard-wired for that purpose, as the psalms tell us. "Earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you. My whole being longs for you." (Ps. 63:1); "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God." (Ps. 42:1). The next best thing to a relationship with God is the tie with members of our family, not just our children, but also our forbears and ancestors ... it's all part of the wonderful mystery of creation and procreation.
If, like me, you're obsessed by and drawn to your own family history, why not take that fascination one step further and develop an equal interest in and response to the One who has loved you constantly since you were in your mother's womb?
One feature of the on line presentation of this record is the provision of a multi-age map showing the location of each address. Having found my uncle's address, Merrils Farm, on the outskirts of Derby, I scrolled down to look at the map. Having also looked at the modern version of the map I realised that, although the farm is no longer there, its location is very close to the road I would have driven on quite often a few years ago when making frequent deliveries to Rolls Royce.
But what amazed me most was the amount of time I spent mesmerised, just looking at that map on my computer screen. My uncle wasn't my direct ancestor and, although I remember his occasional visits with affection, he died when I was only 13. Nevertheless, I was just spellbound by my discovery that I'd often passed near to somewhere that he had lived.
As the current craze - facilitated by advances in digital technology - for interest in family history witnesses, our roots are important to us. The Old Testament tells the story of God's people, the Israelites, who had constantly broken their covenant with God and as a consequence had been exiled from their promised land and were under the control of the rulers first of Assyria, then of Babylon, and later of Persia. After many years, there began a gradual return from exile under Zerubbabel, a prominent Israelite and descendant of King David. The story is told in the early chapters of Ezra. The return took quite a while to get going; eighty years later Ezra himself led another tranche.
After another thirteen years, word came to Nehemiah, who was the cup-bearer to the Persian king, of the state of Jerusalem, still not rebuilt despite the years that Israelites had been back there. Nehemiah was very affected by this news and sought the permission of the King to lead a party to Jerusalem (Nehemiah ch. 1-2). The remainder of his book tells how he followed up God's inspiration to lead the returning Israelites to rebuild their city and to support the priest Ezra in the rekindling of their covenant with God.
I was intrigued by the link with my long-dead uncle; Nehemiah was moved by the derelict state of a city he'd never seen. What is it that is so magnetic about our roots? And what can it teach us? The fundamental lesson is this. God created us for one purpose only: to have a relationship with Him. We are hard-wired for that purpose, as the psalms tell us. "Earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you. My whole being longs for you." (Ps. 63:1); "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God." (Ps. 42:1). The next best thing to a relationship with God is the tie with members of our family, not just our children, but also our forbears and ancestors ... it's all part of the wonderful mystery of creation and procreation.
If, like me, you're obsessed by and drawn to your own family history, why not take that fascination one step further and develop an equal interest in and response to the One who has loved you constantly since you were in your mother's womb?
Sunday, 1 September 2019
A Word about Harsh Words
A few weeks ago - possibly some months now, considering how time flies these days - I moved my furniture around and uncovered some bookshelves that had previously been masked by the dining table. As my eye skimmed the titles one volume stood out and has since been read, a bit at a time. 'Medieval Gentlewoman' by Fiona Swabey is based on the life of a Suffolk heiress, Alice de Bryene (c.1360-1435), and I'd like to share with you a short passage from it:
“The gossip was an important figure in the later Middle Ages, from the word godsib (sibling) or godparent, denoting the spiritual affinity of the baptised and their sponsors. More significantly a gossip was a woman who attended a close friend when she was in labour and often assisted at the birth. Such women were part of the informal domestic webs of information and power, passing on their wisdom and experience with little respect for hierarchy, though at the same time they adhered to traditional and conservative concepts and their opinions must often have been prejudiced. Many of their ‘old wives’ tales’ consisted of practical advice on sex, rearing animals, horticulture, cures and the interpretation of dreams and omens. Predictably, ‘women’s tongues’ were usually conceived as being divisive, the ready butt of medieval misogyny, though it was not until the mid-sixteenth century that the gossip became a pejorative figure.”
Considering this development in the meaning and use of the word, I wasn’t surprised to find that the concordance to my on-line Bible offers no mention of 'gossip' in the King James translation. A modern version, however, lists eight occurrences. Four of these are from Proverbs, notably "The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down into the person’s innermost being." (Prov. 18:8), and there is only one from the New Testament, where St Paul gives voice to his misgivings about the infant church in Corinth maintaining their standards of behaviour in his absence (2 Cor. 12:20). The King James version uses 'whisperings' for 'gossip' here, and for its purveyor in Proverbs, 'talebearer'.
Both of these help us to distinguish between the virtuous 'godsib' of centuries past and the less worthy practices to which the word was later applied. Those of us who have reached mature years may remember being told as children that 'all whispers tell lies,' or having the spreading of malicious falsehoods about our playmates being described as 'telling tales'. We don’t have to dig very deeply to find a Biblical source for many of the wise sayings of the older generation.
Maybe the wisdom that comes to us from these later developments of what was in medieval times a totally different expression is particularly relevant as we face the possibility of Brexit becoming a reality. Firstly, I think it's important that we view all changes in society - whether in language, medicine, technology or financial and economic affairs - in a balanced way. We have to accept that change has happened, noting with approval what benefits any changes has brought, while not forgetting the good aspects of what has been replaced and seeking to maintain them or reinstate them within the changed society when this might be possible.
Secondly, when we turn ourselves to condemn tittle-tattle - and its near neighbour falsehood - from the standpoint of what we believe to be honest virtue and accuracy, it's essential that we remember standards of courtesy and civility. In his autobiography, Mahatma Gandhi wrote, "'Hate the sin and not the sinner' is a precept which, though easy enough to understand, is rarely practised, and that is why the poison of hatred spreads in the world." Many people believe that his opening phrase is from the Bible, but this is not the case. What Jesus did teach, which covers the same general problem, is to be found in Matthew's gospel. "Don't judge, so that you won't be judged. For by the standard you judge you will be judged, and the measure you use you will receive." (Matt. 7:1-2). Paul also advised against reckless condemnation of our fellows when he wrote to the Romans, "'Vengeance is mine, I will repay', says the Lord" and advised, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for by doing this you will be heaping burning coals on his head." (Romans 12:19-20).
Secondly, when we turn ourselves to condemn tittle-tattle - and its near neighbour falsehood - from the standpoint of what we believe to be honest virtue and accuracy, it's essential that we remember standards of courtesy and civility. In his autobiography, Mahatma Gandhi wrote, "'Hate the sin and not the sinner' is a precept which, though easy enough to understand, is rarely practised, and that is why the poison of hatred spreads in the world." Many people believe that his opening phrase is from the Bible, but this is not the case. What Jesus did teach, which covers the same general problem, is to be found in Matthew's gospel. "Don't judge, so that you won't be judged. For by the standard you judge you will be judged, and the measure you use you will receive." (Matt. 7:1-2). Paul also advised against reckless condemnation of our fellows when he wrote to the Romans, "'Vengeance is mine, I will repay', says the Lord" and advised, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for by doing this you will be heaping burning coals on his head." (Romans 12:19-20).
Thursday, 15 August 2019
Picking up the Pieces
Not many years go by in most homes without something getting broken or going missing. If it's only a minor component of a greater whole - perhaps a chipped cup or a missing jig-saw piece - we might decide to work around the gap or live with the incompleteness. If it's something more fundamental like a broken chair-leg, chances are that it will find its way to the nearest tip.
But is this the only solution? Might there be someone else out there who would either be willing to use that item, knowing that it's not perfect, or have the resources and skill to mend it? If we don't want to live with a 'five-and-a-bit-place' dinner service, might there be someone else out there who has the same design with a couple of items missing, for which your reject could provide the perfect remedy?
Even if only because it's good for the planet, it's always worth asking how something we no longer want to keep might be redirected into a new lease of life, rather than binned. And the same concept applies to human lives, too. Whatever challenge we face, whether trivial or life-threatening, God is always ready to help if we call upon Him. Psalm 46:1 describes Him as 'an ever-present help in trouble'.
The prophet Isaiah put it rather nicely, in words that prompted this article in the first place, "a bruised reed He will not break, and a smouldering wick He will not snuff out." (Isaiah 42:3). The idea of brokenness also called to mind a worship song by Graham Kendrick; you can find the words of 'God of the Poor' here. There are phrases in that song that express many people's thoughts and fears about modern life. 'Bread for the children' is but one example. Surely it's a truly broken world when one of its richest nations allows schoolchildren to have free meals at school, but in the holidays their parents can only feed them by incurring debts in some other aspect of 'normal' life!
At the weekend, I listened via the internet to a service from Gateway Church in Abergavenny. In his final prayer their pastor, Chris Babb, used these words, "[God] is able to bring hope even in the most hopeless of situations, light in the darkest of hours, and take all the broken pieces of our lives and turn them into a beautiful masterpiece for His glory."
Back to the mundane ... next time you discover a missing or broken part in your home, or encounter a potentially devastating problem in your life, remember that ever-present Help in trouble, and ask yourself, 'What could be done with what's left?'
But is this the only solution? Might there be someone else out there who would either be willing to use that item, knowing that it's not perfect, or have the resources and skill to mend it? If we don't want to live with a 'five-and-a-bit-place' dinner service, might there be someone else out there who has the same design with a couple of items missing, for which your reject could provide the perfect remedy?
Even if only because it's good for the planet, it's always worth asking how something we no longer want to keep might be redirected into a new lease of life, rather than binned. And the same concept applies to human lives, too. Whatever challenge we face, whether trivial or life-threatening, God is always ready to help if we call upon Him. Psalm 46:1 describes Him as 'an ever-present help in trouble'.
The prophet Isaiah put it rather nicely, in words that prompted this article in the first place, "a bruised reed He will not break, and a smouldering wick He will not snuff out." (Isaiah 42:3). The idea of brokenness also called to mind a worship song by Graham Kendrick; you can find the words of 'God of the Poor' here. There are phrases in that song that express many people's thoughts and fears about modern life. 'Bread for the children' is but one example. Surely it's a truly broken world when one of its richest nations allows schoolchildren to have free meals at school, but in the holidays their parents can only feed them by incurring debts in some other aspect of 'normal' life!
At the weekend, I listened via the internet to a service from Gateway Church in Abergavenny. In his final prayer their pastor, Chris Babb, used these words, "[God] is able to bring hope even in the most hopeless of situations, light in the darkest of hours, and take all the broken pieces of our lives and turn them into a beautiful masterpiece for His glory."
Back to the mundane ... next time you discover a missing or broken part in your home, or encounter a potentially devastating problem in your life, remember that ever-present Help in trouble, and ask yourself, 'What could be done with what's left?'
Thursday, 1 August 2019
You Make Me Sick!
How have you coped with the very hot weather? Many I know just can't bear it and are very glad when the temperature drops by ten or fifteen degrees. There's a limit, after all, to the amount of chilled drinks that can be consumed and some would have it that, although they keep your body hydrated, they do little in the way of providing a lasting cooling effect. Some hold that a hot drink is still more refreshing in hot weather; I'm not sure of the physics behind that idea, though.
I remember, at the age of about six or seven, accompanying my mother to the harvest field to take my father more drink as he worked on into the evening. In my teenage years, when I would get up soon after dad and be eating my breakfast as he packed up his lunch bag. There was room in his bag for his sandwich box and just one bottle of cold tea, which he managed to keep upright while slung on his back for his cycle ride to work. In those days, I thought it strange to drink cold what is, essentially, a hot drink but cold tea it was, poured straight from the teapot with neither milk nor sugar. I think it was all he'd known throughout his working life and he always claimed it was more refreshing than any of the modern drinks that I preferred.
I've lost track of the times I've noticed half a mug of coffee by my desk, neglected as a result of my concentration on the computer screen. Although stone cold, I've drunk it down and found it quite acceptable. And many roadside service stations will offer on their shelves a proprietary brand of chilled coffee ... at a price! One thing I don't like, however, is a hot drink that is getting cold. While having not yet reached the refreshing qualities of a cold drink, it's not the hot drink that I brought a while ago from the kitchen, and is likely to meet the sink in short order. After all, if you go to the tap for a glass of water, you will run the tap for a few moments to 'let it run cold', rather than fill your glass from the water that has been warming in the pipework behind the tap.
In biblical times, the ancient town of Laodicea was a thriving commercial centre renowned for its black woollen cloth and a medical school that produced eye ointment. The local water was so heavy with minerals that it just couldn't be drunk. Nearby Hierapolis had hot springs and an aqueduct was built to provide Laodicea with a more acceptable alternative from there, but by the time it arrived the water was was lukewarm: neither hot nor refreshingly cool.
The last, and arguably the best remembered, of the seven letters to churches that form the second and third chapters of Revelation was written to the Christians at Laodicea and referred to some of these local characteristics (Rev. 3:14-22). Their life and faith had become complacent and no longer incisive as it once had been. Their behaviour didn't demonstrate God's love for the people, and presumably they just couldn't see the needs around them. They were just 'going through the motions' of their religion. There are various translations of verse 16: 'spit (NIV), vomit (NET) or spue (KJV) you out of my mouth'; perhaps one of the modern paraphrases captures the sentiment when it says, 'You make me sick!' It matches the local water, and thus balances the recommended remedies, which refer to 'white clothes to wear' and 'salve to put on your eyes so that you can see' (verse 18).
I can't expect all my readers to share my taste in drinks, so let me simply suggest that, when next you have cause to reject a drink - for whatever reason - you think of lukewarm water and remember the complacency of the Laodiceans. Is there anything you need to tighten up in your spiritual life?
I remember, at the age of about six or seven, accompanying my mother to the harvest field to take my father more drink as he worked on into the evening. In my teenage years, when I would get up soon after dad and be eating my breakfast as he packed up his lunch bag. There was room in his bag for his sandwich box and just one bottle of cold tea, which he managed to keep upright while slung on his back for his cycle ride to work. In those days, I thought it strange to drink cold what is, essentially, a hot drink but cold tea it was, poured straight from the teapot with neither milk nor sugar. I think it was all he'd known throughout his working life and he always claimed it was more refreshing than any of the modern drinks that I preferred.
I've lost track of the times I've noticed half a mug of coffee by my desk, neglected as a result of my concentration on the computer screen. Although stone cold, I've drunk it down and found it quite acceptable. And many roadside service stations will offer on their shelves a proprietary brand of chilled coffee ... at a price! One thing I don't like, however, is a hot drink that is getting cold. While having not yet reached the refreshing qualities of a cold drink, it's not the hot drink that I brought a while ago from the kitchen, and is likely to meet the sink in short order. After all, if you go to the tap for a glass of water, you will run the tap for a few moments to 'let it run cold', rather than fill your glass from the water that has been warming in the pipework behind the tap.
In biblical times, the ancient town of Laodicea was a thriving commercial centre renowned for its black woollen cloth and a medical school that produced eye ointment. The local water was so heavy with minerals that it just couldn't be drunk. Nearby Hierapolis had hot springs and an aqueduct was built to provide Laodicea with a more acceptable alternative from there, but by the time it arrived the water was was lukewarm: neither hot nor refreshingly cool.
The last, and arguably the best remembered, of the seven letters to churches that form the second and third chapters of Revelation was written to the Christians at Laodicea and referred to some of these local characteristics (Rev. 3:14-22). Their life and faith had become complacent and no longer incisive as it once had been. Their behaviour didn't demonstrate God's love for the people, and presumably they just couldn't see the needs around them. They were just 'going through the motions' of their religion. There are various translations of verse 16: 'spit (NIV), vomit (NET) or spue (KJV) you out of my mouth'; perhaps one of the modern paraphrases captures the sentiment when it says, 'You make me sick!' It matches the local water, and thus balances the recommended remedies, which refer to 'white clothes to wear' and 'salve to put on your eyes so that you can see' (verse 18).
I can't expect all my readers to share my taste in drinks, so let me simply suggest that, when next you have cause to reject a drink - for whatever reason - you think of lukewarm water and remember the complacency of the Laodiceans. Is there anything you need to tighten up in your spiritual life?
Monday, 15 July 2019
Mirror-wise
I've noticed a number of pictures appearing recently on social media that have been published back-to-front. I don't realise it at first, until there's a street that I recognise, or suddenly I see some writing on a badge or shop sign. I often use a familiar phrase from a long ago foreign language lesson to express surprise, especially when I'm alone, and I mutter to myself, 'Hoe kan het zijn?' (how can it be?) Suddenly I get it, the whole image is reversed, as if it's been taken using a mirror.
Perhaps a more important question is not how, but why should it be so? It's reminiscent of Oscar Wilde's words in The Importance of Being Earnest: "To lose one parent ... may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness." For one picture, by some means, to have been inserted reversed could be an accident but when it occurs two or three times, from a number of sources, I begin to think something more coordinated is afoot.
I confess, I don't know the answer. But I know that a sign or badge is back to front because I know what the letters should look like; I recognise that a street is portrayed back to front because I've seen the actual street, and remember the sequence of its buildings. St James, in his letter, wrote about a man looking in a mirror and then going away and promptly forgetting what he looks like (James 1:22-25). James used this as an illustration for looking at the perfect law (i.e. reading God's Word) but not doing what it tells us to do.
The modern equivalent would be someone who considers it sufficient simply to hear a good sermon on a Sunday morning; by the time the roast dinner is before him, he has completely forgotten what had been said as if he'd never been there at all. It's so much easier, isn't it, to continue doing what we've always done? Either we don't realise what we need to change in our lives, or we postpone indefinitely any change in our habits that would put into effect what we've heard.
Someone I was chatting to in the last few days said, "I'm not ready to commit ... because there are things I'm doing - things I like doing - that I know I'd have to give up ... and I'm not ready to give them up." Knowing a time in my own life when I said more or less the same thing, I understood where my friend was coming from but, knowing also where that decision had led me, I couldn't be generous enough to tell him, "That's fine, take your time." Instead I prayed that he would be led to a point where the attraction of those things would pale, and that he would then find himself ready to commit to those things that are eternal.
James concludes this chapter by advocating that his readers should "keep [themselves] from being polluted by the world." (James 1:27). Sometimes I realise that something I've just done was 'unworthy' of my calling and, either in my mind or in reality, I consider how I must appear in that mirror. I then have no option but to regret what I've done and beg forgiveness. My prayer for my friend is that he may one day be able to do the same.
Perhaps a more important question is not how, but why should it be so? It's reminiscent of Oscar Wilde's words in The Importance of Being Earnest: "To lose one parent ... may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness." For one picture, by some means, to have been inserted reversed could be an accident but when it occurs two or three times, from a number of sources, I begin to think something more coordinated is afoot.
I confess, I don't know the answer. But I know that a sign or badge is back to front because I know what the letters should look like; I recognise that a street is portrayed back to front because I've seen the actual street, and remember the sequence of its buildings. St James, in his letter, wrote about a man looking in a mirror and then going away and promptly forgetting what he looks like (James 1:22-25). James used this as an illustration for looking at the perfect law (i.e. reading God's Word) but not doing what it tells us to do.
The modern equivalent would be someone who considers it sufficient simply to hear a good sermon on a Sunday morning; by the time the roast dinner is before him, he has completely forgotten what had been said as if he'd never been there at all. It's so much easier, isn't it, to continue doing what we've always done? Either we don't realise what we need to change in our lives, or we postpone indefinitely any change in our habits that would put into effect what we've heard.
Someone I was chatting to in the last few days said, "I'm not ready to commit ... because there are things I'm doing - things I like doing - that I know I'd have to give up ... and I'm not ready to give them up." Knowing a time in my own life when I said more or less the same thing, I understood where my friend was coming from but, knowing also where that decision had led me, I couldn't be generous enough to tell him, "That's fine, take your time." Instead I prayed that he would be led to a point where the attraction of those things would pale, and that he would then find himself ready to commit to those things that are eternal.
James concludes this chapter by advocating that his readers should "keep [themselves] from being polluted by the world." (James 1:27). Sometimes I realise that something I've just done was 'unworthy' of my calling and, either in my mind or in reality, I consider how I must appear in that mirror. I then have no option but to regret what I've done and beg forgiveness. My prayer for my friend is that he may one day be able to do the same.
Monday, 1 July 2019
Turning the Pages
If you visit my home, the image most likely to leave with you is the books. My lounge is clad with eight units of three shelves and the bedroom two five-shelf units. That's a shelf-run of about 35 metres. While it doesn't scratch the surface of the National Archive's 200 kilometres, for a small flat some would say it's excessive.
The collection consists of fiction, history, biography, theology, travel, music and reference. To me, they are not just words on a page (or several thousand pages); some are old friends. Some have been in my possession since my teenage years; the majority date from the period since the millennium. With some a mere glance can bring forth a vivid memory of an event or an era of my life; others I've completely forgotten about.
It has been said that they are like furniture! Since I live in a rented property, my landlord's agent makes a quarterly visit to ensure on behalf of both parties that all is well; one day a different lady from the office came. As she entered the lounge she exclaimed, "Oh! You're the book man!" Word had obviously got around. Now, in my retirement, I'm filling one day a week trying to sell books on line on behalf of a local charity, which has opened up a completely new perspective on what I suppose has been a fairly low-level hobby for half a century.
The Bible, of course, is not just one book, but a whole library. In its pages we can find many parallels with my shelves. The Bible contains poetry, drama, romance, biography, history, prophecy and many pages of personal letters as well as the theology that we naturally associate with it. But apart from the words written on their pages, our books can remind us of much about God.
As one who has moved house since the majority of my collection has built up, I can vouch for the fact that books in any number at all are solid. They are heavyweight and dependable, whether you're looking to weigh down a curtain or break your back lifting them! A book is not easily lost, although it can be mislaid, or put in the wrong place which, as any librarian will vouchsafe, is as good as being lost! God is always there, too, and ever dependable (Hebrews 13:5).
Have you ever come across something in a book that you disagree with? You can curse and shout at it, but you can't change it ... what's printed there stays there. You can ignore it, scribble through it, tear the page out, even burn it! But all the other copies that have been printed will still contain what offended you. God is unchangeable, too (Hebrews 13:8).
A book can answer our questions. We have to pick the right book to match our question, of course; it's no use asking who was prime minister in 1842 and seeking the answer in a cookery book! We may have to open a number of books if our search is complex or obscure, may even have to buy a new one! And at the end of the chase, we may have found conflicting opinions about the answer. Prayer is so much easier, and, although the answers to prayer sometimes need discernment, we can be sure of the answer when we get it, because God cannot lie (Titus 1:2).
Very thin books can be 'stitched', i.e. held together with large metal staples; many cheap books are held together with glue inside a card cover (paperbacks). Hard-back or 'case-bound' books are stitched with string or cord and bound into board covers; there are many different ways this can be done and they are strong and long-lasting. However even these wear with constant use and handling, and need to be repaired by specialists.
God is boundless!
The collection consists of fiction, history, biography, theology, travel, music and reference. To me, they are not just words on a page (or several thousand pages); some are old friends. Some have been in my possession since my teenage years; the majority date from the period since the millennium. With some a mere glance can bring forth a vivid memory of an event or an era of my life; others I've completely forgotten about.
It has been said that they are like furniture! Since I live in a rented property, my landlord's agent makes a quarterly visit to ensure on behalf of both parties that all is well; one day a different lady from the office came. As she entered the lounge she exclaimed, "Oh! You're the book man!" Word had obviously got around. Now, in my retirement, I'm filling one day a week trying to sell books on line on behalf of a local charity, which has opened up a completely new perspective on what I suppose has been a fairly low-level hobby for half a century.
The Bible, of course, is not just one book, but a whole library. In its pages we can find many parallels with my shelves. The Bible contains poetry, drama, romance, biography, history, prophecy and many pages of personal letters as well as the theology that we naturally associate with it. But apart from the words written on their pages, our books can remind us of much about God.
As one who has moved house since the majority of my collection has built up, I can vouch for the fact that books in any number at all are solid. They are heavyweight and dependable, whether you're looking to weigh down a curtain or break your back lifting them! A book is not easily lost, although it can be mislaid, or put in the wrong place which, as any librarian will vouchsafe, is as good as being lost! God is always there, too, and ever dependable (Hebrews 13:5).
Have you ever come across something in a book that you disagree with? You can curse and shout at it, but you can't change it ... what's printed there stays there. You can ignore it, scribble through it, tear the page out, even burn it! But all the other copies that have been printed will still contain what offended you. God is unchangeable, too (Hebrews 13:8).
A book can answer our questions. We have to pick the right book to match our question, of course; it's no use asking who was prime minister in 1842 and seeking the answer in a cookery book! We may have to open a number of books if our search is complex or obscure, may even have to buy a new one! And at the end of the chase, we may have found conflicting opinions about the answer. Prayer is so much easier, and, although the answers to prayer sometimes need discernment, we can be sure of the answer when we get it, because God cannot lie (Titus 1:2).
Very thin books can be 'stitched', i.e. held together with large metal staples; many cheap books are held together with glue inside a card cover (paperbacks). Hard-back or 'case-bound' books are stitched with string or cord and bound into board covers; there are many different ways this can be done and they are strong and long-lasting. However even these wear with constant use and handling, and need to be repaired by specialists.
God is boundless!
Saturday, 15 June 2019
Another Cup of Tea?
I know ... something of a pattern is developing. I promise that my next post will not feature tea. However, the term 'cup of tea' - or its common abbreviation 'cuppa' - has a place of particular fondness in my memory. It reminds me of a particular gentleman whose personality was such as to make an impression on my teenage son, who resented joining me in our visit, yet came away saying, "What a nice old chap!" In a story told to me many years ago by the speaker's daughter-in-law, 'cuppa' featured in a frequent expression of this self-made, and largely self-educated, man. In his working life he was a professional gardener and in retirement, after an afternoon's work in his own garden, he would suggest to his wife that it was time for 'a nice cup of tea'. In the sort of private language that happy families develop, this was conveyed as "Scuppatee, Rose?"
Tea, as most of my readers will readily acknowledge, has many properties. It can be the source of refreshment - as in the case of that gardener - or of stimulation or energy. It's often the vehicle by which neighbours will get to know one another. Although in recent years tea has perhaps been overtaken by coffee as the drink of invitation, the truth remains that to share 'a cup of something' is a good way to deepen an acquaintance or to share - or even resolve - a problem. A cup is also a euphemism, a shorthand if you will, for the burden of office. It's a way of expressing succinctly the complexities of a task or challenge that is faced by someone in the course of their life.
There are Biblical precedents for each of these examples, each of which provides food for thought in the direction of drawing us closer to our Lord. Jesus wasn't thinking of tea or coffee when he said, "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink." (John 7:37), and I don't think the psalmist was referring to a drink when he wrote, "Lord You alone are my portion and my cup of blessing; You make my lot secure" (Ps. 16:5).
When it comes to giving a cup of friendship to those in need, we have to acknowledge that members of the Salvation Army offer the best example. They can comfortably rely on Jesus' promise, "If anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you that person will certainly not lose their reward." (Matt. 10:42).
When James and John, supported by their mother, sought prominent places in the Kingdom to come, Jesus challenged them, "Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?" (Matt. 20:22), and when that time came to Him, Jesus spent a night of agony in the garden of Gethsemane and asked, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will but as You will." (Matt. 26:39).
And what is my point in reciting all of these? I recall a particular moment in my life - 20 years ago this week - when Jesus' agonised plea in the garden provided the words for my own prayers, and prompted me to turn to Him to see me through a frightening situation. How often in our day do we turn to a cup (yes, or a mug) for a refreshing drink? How great would be the improvement in our lives if, at all those times, we were to remember our Lord, and commit to Him whatever might be on our minds just at that moment?
Tea, as most of my readers will readily acknowledge, has many properties. It can be the source of refreshment - as in the case of that gardener - or of stimulation or energy. It's often the vehicle by which neighbours will get to know one another. Although in recent years tea has perhaps been overtaken by coffee as the drink of invitation, the truth remains that to share 'a cup of something' is a good way to deepen an acquaintance or to share - or even resolve - a problem. A cup is also a euphemism, a shorthand if you will, for the burden of office. It's a way of expressing succinctly the complexities of a task or challenge that is faced by someone in the course of their life.
There are Biblical precedents for each of these examples, each of which provides food for thought in the direction of drawing us closer to our Lord. Jesus wasn't thinking of tea or coffee when he said, "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink." (John 7:37), and I don't think the psalmist was referring to a drink when he wrote, "Lord You alone are my portion and my cup of blessing; You make my lot secure" (Ps. 16:5).
When it comes to giving a cup of friendship to those in need, we have to acknowledge that members of the Salvation Army offer the best example. They can comfortably rely on Jesus' promise, "If anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you that person will certainly not lose their reward." (Matt. 10:42).
When James and John, supported by their mother, sought prominent places in the Kingdom to come, Jesus challenged them, "Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?" (Matt. 20:22), and when that time came to Him, Jesus spent a night of agony in the garden of Gethsemane and asked, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will but as You will." (Matt. 26:39).
And what is my point in reciting all of these? I recall a particular moment in my life - 20 years ago this week - when Jesus' agonised plea in the garden provided the words for my own prayers, and prompted me to turn to Him to see me through a frightening situation. How often in our day do we turn to a cup (yes, or a mug) for a refreshing drink? How great would be the improvement in our lives if, at all those times, we were to remember our Lord, and commit to Him whatever might be on our minds just at that moment?
Saturday, 1 June 2019
A Refreshing Cup of Tea
My keen reader will immediately spot a link with my last post here, which referred to my late mother stirring her tea and gazing out of the window. One of my morning pleasures is to enjoy a mug of tea as I read my Bible; it happens to be beside my window, but the armchair is so low that I can see nothing out of my window but a tree and a telegraph pole. One day I might write about them but today I want to focus on the brew.
Usually, if I'm offered tea, my response is to ask if coffee is available; I find pleasure in tea only if it's Earl Grey and, since that's not universally available, I don't like to appear too fussy. When I visit my cousin, I have to be sure to take my own tea-bags since she "refuses to drink tea that tastes like washing-up liquid!" I can see where she's coming from. The secret is in the bergamot and lemon flavouring that is present throughout the drink.
Let me confess the extent of my fussiness and say that not all Earl Grey teas are the same. I bought a cheaper brand once and found that - although the box offered the same distinctive fragrance - there was so little actual flavour in the tea itself that I had to replace it. Maybe it happened to be the 'end of the line', but I never bought that brand again!
As I remembered that imperfect tea, I thought of Jesus' teaching about Christian behaviour in what is known as the Sermon on the Mount. "You are the salt of the earth," He told the crowds who listened, "but if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot." (Matt. 5:13). I think that's what happened to the tea I replaced.
Later in his gospel, Matthew quotes a short parable Jesus used to illustrate the nature of the Kingdom of Heaven: "like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about 30 kilograms of flour until it worked all through the dough." (Matt. 13:33). The yeast reached every part of the dough and the Kingdom of God reaches every person who commits himself to Jesus.
There's a common saying, sometimes found in one a number of slight variations, that a rotten apple spoils the whole barrel. If there's just a small part of the dough that the yeast hasn't reached, or a single tea-bag in the box that didn't go through the proper filter, or strayed in from another production line, it can spoil the end product, be it an evenly raised loaf, a good cup of tea or anything else. We've seen this over the last few years as one wave of scandal after another has hit the headlines over child abuse within a church context.
Each of us must remember that the Church is Christ's ambassador on earth. It is the individual Christian who carries His credentials to the non-believer and it's his behaviour on which the non-believer will base his decision whether or not to believe. We all should do our best to reflect our Lord in every aspect of our lives for, even though a slip can be forgiven, any bad impression it has left will not be easily erased.
Usually, if I'm offered tea, my response is to ask if coffee is available; I find pleasure in tea only if it's Earl Grey and, since that's not universally available, I don't like to appear too fussy. When I visit my cousin, I have to be sure to take my own tea-bags since she "refuses to drink tea that tastes like washing-up liquid!" I can see where she's coming from. The secret is in the bergamot and lemon flavouring that is present throughout the drink.
Let me confess the extent of my fussiness and say that not all Earl Grey teas are the same. I bought a cheaper brand once and found that - although the box offered the same distinctive fragrance - there was so little actual flavour in the tea itself that I had to replace it. Maybe it happened to be the 'end of the line', but I never bought that brand again!
As I remembered that imperfect tea, I thought of Jesus' teaching about Christian behaviour in what is known as the Sermon on the Mount. "You are the salt of the earth," He told the crowds who listened, "but if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot." (Matt. 5:13). I think that's what happened to the tea I replaced.
Later in his gospel, Matthew quotes a short parable Jesus used to illustrate the nature of the Kingdom of Heaven: "like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about 30 kilograms of flour until it worked all through the dough." (Matt. 13:33). The yeast reached every part of the dough and the Kingdom of God reaches every person who commits himself to Jesus.
There's a common saying, sometimes found in one a number of slight variations, that a rotten apple spoils the whole barrel. If there's just a small part of the dough that the yeast hasn't reached, or a single tea-bag in the box that didn't go through the proper filter, or strayed in from another production line, it can spoil the end product, be it an evenly raised loaf, a good cup of tea or anything else. We've seen this over the last few years as one wave of scandal after another has hit the headlines over child abuse within a church context.
Each of us must remember that the Church is Christ's ambassador on earth. It is the individual Christian who carries His credentials to the non-believer and it's his behaviour on which the non-believer will base his decision whether or not to believe. We all should do our best to reflect our Lord in every aspect of our lives for, even though a slip can be forgiven, any bad impression it has left will not be easily erased.
Wednesday, 15 May 2019
Stirring it all up!
I'm thinking today about something almost all of us do multiple times every day. But I'll keep you guessing for a few more lines while I tell you about my mother. It's partly my fault, I confess, that her final years were increasingly lonely. In her eighteen years of widowhood, I visited her as often as I could - no, let me be honest - as often as I was willing to do so but, of course, it could never be enough. When we cleared her house after her death, we found her teaspoon ... with about an eighth of the bowl worn away!
It brings tears to my eyes as I remember the discovery; I can imagine her now, sitting at her table, gazing absently out of the window, stirring, stirring, stirring that cup of tea ... It's an activity with a definite purpose, to distribute the flavour throughout the drink, but in her case the purpose had long since been achieved and the action was just something for her hand to do while her mind was ... who knows where?
I apologise if the next comment seems unseasonable; I assure you it's not. The last Sunday before the beginning of Advent - we're talking the end of November - used to be called 'Stir-up Sunday'. In some households, I don't doubt, it still is. I was told it was because that was the day when Christmas puddings would be prepared, and each member of the family was invited to stir and make a wish. As good a reason is to be found in the Book of Common Prayer, where the collect, or set prayer, for the 'Sunday next before Advent' begins, "Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people;".
The prayer calls for those whose wills are thus stirred to be rewarded for bringing forth good works. The stirring that is requested (who actually beseeches these days?) is that the fruits of the Holy Spirit - see Paul's letter to the Galatians (Gal. 5:22) if you can't remember what they are - should be sufficiently agitated as to penetrate every part of our lives so that anyone having anything to do with us would know that we had been touched by God.
On the seventh Sunday after Easter, we shall celebrate the feast of Pentecost, commemorating the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Disciples in the form of tongues of fire. The traditional name for this feast - Whitsunday - is said to be derived from the white garments worn by those expecting to be baptised that Sunday, or alternatively new (white) summer dresses that might make an appearance that day. Another theory, however, dates from the time of the Norman Conquest when the Old English 'hwitte' (white) became confused with 'wit' (wisdom or understanding) (which is known in modern English in 'half-wit' or sayings like 'hasn't the wit he was born with'). This latter offers a more direct link with the Holy Spirit which brought new understanding to the Disciples.
However you prefer to think of the derivation, the fundamental aim of the feast is to remind us of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our hearts and encourage us to exercise those Spirit-derived fruits in our lives ... which is why that pre-Advent prayer is so relevant just now. So when you next find a spoon in your hand for its drink-stirring purpose, let it also remind you of the reason the drink is being stirred, and of what might need to be stirred in your heart!
It brings tears to my eyes as I remember the discovery; I can imagine her now, sitting at her table, gazing absently out of the window, stirring, stirring, stirring that cup of tea ... It's an activity with a definite purpose, to distribute the flavour throughout the drink, but in her case the purpose had long since been achieved and the action was just something for her hand to do while her mind was ... who knows where?
I apologise if the next comment seems unseasonable; I assure you it's not. The last Sunday before the beginning of Advent - we're talking the end of November - used to be called 'Stir-up Sunday'. In some households, I don't doubt, it still is. I was told it was because that was the day when Christmas puddings would be prepared, and each member of the family was invited to stir and make a wish. As good a reason is to be found in the Book of Common Prayer, where the collect, or set prayer, for the 'Sunday next before Advent' begins, "Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people;".
The prayer calls for those whose wills are thus stirred to be rewarded for bringing forth good works. The stirring that is requested (who actually beseeches these days?) is that the fruits of the Holy Spirit - see Paul's letter to the Galatians (Gal. 5:22) if you can't remember what they are - should be sufficiently agitated as to penetrate every part of our lives so that anyone having anything to do with us would know that we had been touched by God.
On the seventh Sunday after Easter, we shall celebrate the feast of Pentecost, commemorating the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Disciples in the form of tongues of fire. The traditional name for this feast - Whitsunday - is said to be derived from the white garments worn by those expecting to be baptised that Sunday, or alternatively new (white) summer dresses that might make an appearance that day. Another theory, however, dates from the time of the Norman Conquest when the Old English 'hwitte' (white) became confused with 'wit' (wisdom or understanding) (which is known in modern English in 'half-wit' or sayings like 'hasn't the wit he was born with'). This latter offers a more direct link with the Holy Spirit which brought new understanding to the Disciples.
However you prefer to think of the derivation, the fundamental aim of the feast is to remind us of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our hearts and encourage us to exercise those Spirit-derived fruits in our lives ... which is why that pre-Advent prayer is so relevant just now. So when you next find a spoon in your hand for its drink-stirring purpose, let it also remind you of the reason the drink is being stirred, and of what might need to be stirred in your heart!
Wednesday, 1 May 2019
What Are You Here For?
In many ways, I suppose, my life has followed the same general path as many of my readers. When I was at school, I had certain favourite subjects, those that I was good at, and those that I loathed, and in which I was rubbish. Unsurprisingly, after a few false starts, I found a career in accountancy, matching my lifelong inclination toward things mathematical. Later in life, I had a second career as a delivery driver, travelling the length and breadth of the country - and beyond, on occasions - and I realise that this, too, utilised a schoolboy strength: a liking for maps and my aptitude for geography.
Now again, in retirement, I find that the church - the broader church as well as the one where I worship week by week - has provided outlets for my skills: some that I was aware of during my working life and others that specific circumstances have drawn forth. Each of us has a broad variety of talents and it's my belief that these are gifts from God through His Holy Spirit. Often they are obvious, and we follow them up with no hesitation; sometimes, however, it takes an observant friend or maybe, as in my case, an unfortunate block to a career path, to bring to the fore something that has lain dormant for decades.
During our recent commemoration of the events of Holy Week, we may well have read the story of Jesus' three trials: before the Sanhedrin, before Pilate and before Herod. One of the charges levelled against Him was that He was the King of the Jews, a title that Pilate didn't really understand. "You are a king, then!" he said, as he tried to dig a little deeper into this Man who had been brought before him. Jesus replied, "You say that I am a king." And He added a few words in explanation of what that meant in His case. "In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth." (John 18:37). We were reminded of this particular verse in our service this week, as the preacher focused on why Jesus came to earth.
At this point, Pilate asked a rhetorical question for which he has become famous, "What is truth?" and, seeing that there was nothing about Jesus that would cause him political trouble, he abandoned the interrogation and sought the agreement of the crowd to release Him. In the face of the furore whipped up by the Pharisees, it was a futile attempt. But we're left with Jesus' statement of what He was here for. It raises a question that poses a challenge to us all. What are we here for? What is being asked of each one of us in our lives?
Now, that's a question to which I'm not going to suggest an answer for anyone, let alone my readers, of whom I know nothing. If you aren't sure what your purpose in life should be - and many of us aren't - I can only suggest that you pray and ask the Lord, or get a close friend to do so either with you or for you.
Someone said to me only this weekend, "You do a lot for the church, don't you?" I suppose I do, and indeed, many things can sit comfortably beside one another, making it perfectly possible to do both X and Y as the demand occurs, but there are others that aren't compatible at all. Usually because they are done at the same time, in different places, some tasks are mutually exclusive, and one person couldn't be expected to do them both.
St Paul gave a trio of things he might do for the good of others; in each case he stipulated a critical condition under which he ought to do them. Unless this critical condition was fulfilled, he said of the first, "I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal" Of the second, he said, "I am nothing" and of the third, "I gain nothing." That critical condition was the presence of love in whatever he undertook ... and, by implication, in whatever we might choose to undertake, whether for the church or for particular individuals (1 Cor. 13:1-3).
If you're anything like me, this is a question to which you may never have given any specific thought at all. There's nothing worse than feeling like a square peg in a round hole. It's a fundamental need for each of us, to know our purpose in life and to make sure that what we're doing is the thing we were 'cut out for' in the first place. Take your time, but ask the question sooner rather than later:
What are you here for?
Now again, in retirement, I find that the church - the broader church as well as the one where I worship week by week - has provided outlets for my skills: some that I was aware of during my working life and others that specific circumstances have drawn forth. Each of us has a broad variety of talents and it's my belief that these are gifts from God through His Holy Spirit. Often they are obvious, and we follow them up with no hesitation; sometimes, however, it takes an observant friend or maybe, as in my case, an unfortunate block to a career path, to bring to the fore something that has lain dormant for decades.
During our recent commemoration of the events of Holy Week, we may well have read the story of Jesus' three trials: before the Sanhedrin, before Pilate and before Herod. One of the charges levelled against Him was that He was the King of the Jews, a title that Pilate didn't really understand. "You are a king, then!" he said, as he tried to dig a little deeper into this Man who had been brought before him. Jesus replied, "You say that I am a king." And He added a few words in explanation of what that meant in His case. "In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth." (John 18:37). We were reminded of this particular verse in our service this week, as the preacher focused on why Jesus came to earth.
At this point, Pilate asked a rhetorical question for which he has become famous, "What is truth?" and, seeing that there was nothing about Jesus that would cause him political trouble, he abandoned the interrogation and sought the agreement of the crowd to release Him. In the face of the furore whipped up by the Pharisees, it was a futile attempt. But we're left with Jesus' statement of what He was here for. It raises a question that poses a challenge to us all. What are we here for? What is being asked of each one of us in our lives?
Now, that's a question to which I'm not going to suggest an answer for anyone, let alone my readers, of whom I know nothing. If you aren't sure what your purpose in life should be - and many of us aren't - I can only suggest that you pray and ask the Lord, or get a close friend to do so either with you or for you.
Someone said to me only this weekend, "You do a lot for the church, don't you?" I suppose I do, and indeed, many things can sit comfortably beside one another, making it perfectly possible to do both X and Y as the demand occurs, but there are others that aren't compatible at all. Usually because they are done at the same time, in different places, some tasks are mutually exclusive, and one person couldn't be expected to do them both.
St Paul gave a trio of things he might do for the good of others; in each case he stipulated a critical condition under which he ought to do them. Unless this critical condition was fulfilled, he said of the first, "I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal" Of the second, he said, "I am nothing" and of the third, "I gain nothing." That critical condition was the presence of love in whatever he undertook ... and, by implication, in whatever we might choose to undertake, whether for the church or for particular individuals (1 Cor. 13:1-3).
If you're anything like me, this is a question to which you may never have given any specific thought at all. There's nothing worse than feeling like a square peg in a round hole. It's a fundamental need for each of us, to know our purpose in life and to make sure that what we're doing is the thing we were 'cut out for' in the first place. Take your time, but ask the question sooner rather than later:
What are you here for?
Monday, 15 April 2019
A Balanced View
Sometimes lately I've had a definite problem hearing everything that was going on around me. I don't believe that I'm going deaf, but rather that the problem is linked to a recent fall that left me with internal bruising connected with bent - I had feared cracked - ribs. Three weeks later, I'm pleased to say that, in general, I'm much better but, when in sleep my body follows its natural instinct to turn over, there is sufficient pain to wake me up. The result is that, instead of spending part of the night on one side and part on the other, the 'deaf' ear tends always to be the one I lay on. I believe that balance is critical in all aspects of life; I'm sure that's how we are made to live: part asleep and part awake, part working and part resting, and so on. As the old saying has it, 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy'.
When it comes to church, some of the prescribed lessons are from the Old Testament and some from the New. Although sometimes we can't quite make out how one relates to the other, we accept that it should be that way. If we get carried away with the excitement of the stories of the Judges' wars, or the visions of the Prophets, it's easy to see these as an end in themselves. Or we can be so entranced by the teaching of Jesus, his battles with the Pharisees or the story of the infant churches in Acts and Paul's letters that we consider the Old Testament an irrelevance. Either way, we lose sight of God's overall plan for His people. Early in His ministry, Jesus taught His disciples, "I haven't come to abolish (the Law or the Prophets) but to fulfil them." (Matthew 5:17). Throughout the New Testament there are references to the Old, and in many places the Old Testament carries indications of the things that would be fulfilled by Jesus in the New.
Balance is important in everything. It's all too easy for us to consider that our own point of view is the only one that is right, and to regard those who think differently as wrong, irrelevant ... or worse, evil. Nowhere is this more the case just now than in regard to Brexit.
When a decision has been made and implemented - in whichever direction and by whatever means - and the dust has settled, there will be a significant portion of the population who will be, to say the least, dissatisfied. Logically, it's impossible for half the population to be 'right' and the other half 'wrong', whichever way we might assign those labels. We must accept that those who voted 'leave' in the referendum three years ago did so sincerely according to their beliefs, experience or guidance at the time. Similarly those who voted 'remain' were equally sincere according to their values and perceptions. Tolerance and a balanced understanding of the views and motives of either side is the only way that our nation can be healed from this devastation.
Like me, you may have been praying about this. Naturally enough, our prayers will have been that the outcome is in accordance with our own views. Not all prayers are answered by 'yes', however. In some cases the answer is 'no', and in that case we are disappointed; we feel let down. In His prayers on the Mount of Olives, Jesus prayed, "for those who will believe in me through (the disciples') message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you." (John 17:20-21). This is a prayer that remains unanswered by 'yes': the church is far from united. Mark's description of these events includes Jesus' plea that he might be spared the agony to come. He concludes, "Yet not what I will but what you will." (Mark 14:36). This is a useful 'condition' to add to any prayer, to avoid disappointment.
How willing are we, in all circumstances, to let God's will be done in our lives?
When it comes to church, some of the prescribed lessons are from the Old Testament and some from the New. Although sometimes we can't quite make out how one relates to the other, we accept that it should be that way. If we get carried away with the excitement of the stories of the Judges' wars, or the visions of the Prophets, it's easy to see these as an end in themselves. Or we can be so entranced by the teaching of Jesus, his battles with the Pharisees or the story of the infant churches in Acts and Paul's letters that we consider the Old Testament an irrelevance. Either way, we lose sight of God's overall plan for His people. Early in His ministry, Jesus taught His disciples, "I haven't come to abolish (the Law or the Prophets) but to fulfil them." (Matthew 5:17). Throughout the New Testament there are references to the Old, and in many places the Old Testament carries indications of the things that would be fulfilled by Jesus in the New.
Balance is important in everything. It's all too easy for us to consider that our own point of view is the only one that is right, and to regard those who think differently as wrong, irrelevant ... or worse, evil. Nowhere is this more the case just now than in regard to Brexit.
When a decision has been made and implemented - in whichever direction and by whatever means - and the dust has settled, there will be a significant portion of the population who will be, to say the least, dissatisfied. Logically, it's impossible for half the population to be 'right' and the other half 'wrong', whichever way we might assign those labels. We must accept that those who voted 'leave' in the referendum three years ago did so sincerely according to their beliefs, experience or guidance at the time. Similarly those who voted 'remain' were equally sincere according to their values and perceptions. Tolerance and a balanced understanding of the views and motives of either side is the only way that our nation can be healed from this devastation.
Like me, you may have been praying about this. Naturally enough, our prayers will have been that the outcome is in accordance with our own views. Not all prayers are answered by 'yes', however. In some cases the answer is 'no', and in that case we are disappointed; we feel let down. In His prayers on the Mount of Olives, Jesus prayed, "for those who will believe in me through (the disciples') message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you." (John 17:20-21). This is a prayer that remains unanswered by 'yes': the church is far from united. Mark's description of these events includes Jesus' plea that he might be spared the agony to come. He concludes, "Yet not what I will but what you will." (Mark 14:36). This is a useful 'condition' to add to any prayer, to avoid disappointment.
How willing are we, in all circumstances, to let God's will be done in our lives?
Monday, 1 April 2019
Trouble with the Plumbing
I'm having a problem at present with a leak from the flat above mine into my bathroom. It's not the first time I've had trouble of this nature, but last year's activity on that stage was rather unusual. Although it was very minor, I noticed that there was a steady drip into my bath, coming from where - if I were ever to overfill the tub - the excess water might leave. Eventually, I decided to call for a plumber to investigate whether something serious were just around the corner.
When he arrived, the plumber was puzzled. He removed the front panel and fumbled around the end of the bath. "Well," - I could identify the amazement in his tone - "I've never seen anything like this before!" Then he moved to the toilet cistern and adjusted the ball-cock. "That should sort it." he said. The cistern outflow was piped into a common outlet with the bath and that happens to slope very slightly the wrong way. In the normal scheme of things, this wouldn't cause a problem because the other end of the outlet is below the top of the bath anyway but, with no overflow from the bath to counter it, the cistern's excess was making its way to the bath's plughole.
This concept of finding the solution to a problem other than where the problem manifests itself is not so uncommon as you might think. A trapped nerve in the spine, for example, can report to the brain a pain in some other part of the body; conversely, a pain in the foot can be the result of some other problem causing us to walk badly.
I'm reminded of something I was told at college some forty years ago: "Before we can appreciate and have a relationship with the God who is, we have to unlearn what we've been taught, misunderstood, or simply assumed about the God who isn't!" Put another way, any wrong ideas we might have about God can hinder our understanding of who He really is.
Last year, I read God Lost and Found by John Pritchard, the former Bishop of Oxford. One section of his book is headed, "Faith not as locating God at a distance, but as recognising God in the midst." Here he explores some of these 'wrong ideas'. We might think of God as so vast, powerful and 'out there' that it's impossible to get near to Him. He is cosmic; why - how, even? - would he bother with our tiny problems? We think of Him present in spectacular events and emergencies, but not in the nitty-gritty of daily life. If we do think of any connection between God and us, it might be as a kind of heavenly auditor, totting up good things and bad things, - after all, didn't Abraham believe, and it was 'credited to him as righteousness' (Gen.15:6)? - or we might see God as a kind of judge, jury and executioner: keeping an eye on what we're doing and punishing us when we do wrong.
Pritchard draws his readers' attention to many scriptures that can re-affirm God's closeness to us. The Lord would speak to Moses, for example, "face to face, as one speaks to a friend" (Ex.33:11). Isaiah tells of God's intense commitment to Israel, using words that have been turned into a familiar song (Is. 43:1-4). Paul, as we might expect, is more direct. "Do you not realise that Christ Jesus is in you?" he asks (2 Cor. 13:5); and, lest we should be any doubt, "God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col. 1:27). Although the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) profess not to have doctrines, they do have a number of key principles, one of which reflects Paul's words and is expressed as "That of God in Everyone".
And finally, in case you're feeling that God is far away from you, let me quote the slogan from a 'Wayside Pulpit' poster that I saw locally many years ago: "If you're not close to God ... guess who moved?" God doesn't change; His love is eternal and His commitment to us is written in the Scriptures. Just as that plumber examined the whole bathroom to see why water was flowing the 'wrong' way into my bath, we have to examine our lives to see why we feel there is a distance between God and us.
When he arrived, the plumber was puzzled. He removed the front panel and fumbled around the end of the bath. "Well," - I could identify the amazement in his tone - "I've never seen anything like this before!" Then he moved to the toilet cistern and adjusted the ball-cock. "That should sort it." he said. The cistern outflow was piped into a common outlet with the bath and that happens to slope very slightly the wrong way. In the normal scheme of things, this wouldn't cause a problem because the other end of the outlet is below the top of the bath anyway but, with no overflow from the bath to counter it, the cistern's excess was making its way to the bath's plughole.
This concept of finding the solution to a problem other than where the problem manifests itself is not so uncommon as you might think. A trapped nerve in the spine, for example, can report to the brain a pain in some other part of the body; conversely, a pain in the foot can be the result of some other problem causing us to walk badly.
I'm reminded of something I was told at college some forty years ago: "Before we can appreciate and have a relationship with the God who is, we have to unlearn what we've been taught, misunderstood, or simply assumed about the God who isn't!" Put another way, any wrong ideas we might have about God can hinder our understanding of who He really is.
Last year, I read God Lost and Found by John Pritchard, the former Bishop of Oxford. One section of his book is headed, "Faith not as locating God at a distance, but as recognising God in the midst." Here he explores some of these 'wrong ideas'. We might think of God as so vast, powerful and 'out there' that it's impossible to get near to Him. He is cosmic; why - how, even? - would he bother with our tiny problems? We think of Him present in spectacular events and emergencies, but not in the nitty-gritty of daily life. If we do think of any connection between God and us, it might be as a kind of heavenly auditor, totting up good things and bad things, - after all, didn't Abraham believe, and it was 'credited to him as righteousness' (Gen.15:6)? - or we might see God as a kind of judge, jury and executioner: keeping an eye on what we're doing and punishing us when we do wrong.
Pritchard draws his readers' attention to many scriptures that can re-affirm God's closeness to us. The Lord would speak to Moses, for example, "face to face, as one speaks to a friend" (Ex.33:11). Isaiah tells of God's intense commitment to Israel, using words that have been turned into a familiar song (Is. 43:1-4). Paul, as we might expect, is more direct. "Do you not realise that Christ Jesus is in you?" he asks (2 Cor. 13:5); and, lest we should be any doubt, "God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col. 1:27). Although the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) profess not to have doctrines, they do have a number of key principles, one of which reflects Paul's words and is expressed as "That of God in Everyone".
And finally, in case you're feeling that God is far away from you, let me quote the slogan from a 'Wayside Pulpit' poster that I saw locally many years ago: "If you're not close to God ... guess who moved?" God doesn't change; His love is eternal and His commitment to us is written in the Scriptures. Just as that plumber examined the whole bathroom to see why water was flowing the 'wrong' way into my bath, we have to examine our lives to see why we feel there is a distance between God and us.
Friday, 15 March 2019
What Wouldn't I Give?
I've just won a month's stay in a luxury apartment in the sun; all expenses paid, and with £1,000 of spending money thrown in. "What's the catch?" I hear you ask. There's no catch; it's simply not true. But what if it were ... what would be your reaction to my 'good news'? Would you simply congratulate me on my good fortune and wish me well? Or would there be a little twinge of envy ... would you say, for example, "I'd give an arm and a leg for something like that!"
Of course you wouldn't really be considering a double-amputation ... if nothing else, that would mar your enjoyment of what you'd done it for. It's just a metaphor people use to express a desire for something just beyond the reach of normality: a luxury holiday, the latest i-phone or a night out with <insert name of favourite celebrity>. But come back (a little closer) to reality for a moment. What would you give? What would you really give for a prize like that, or better? a month's salary ... or several perhaps? a year of your life? or even (we're heading into Faustian territory here) ... your soul?
Jesus told a couple of parables that described men who found themselves in just such a situation. One man found some hidden treasure, the other a valuable pearl. Each went away and sold all he had in order to possess what he'd found (Matt. 13:44-46).
At first glance these two seem to be saying the same thing ... but look closer. In the first, Jesus likened the treasure to the Kingdom of Heaven. Someone finding something so wonderful as eternal life in God's Kingdom might well sell all he had to possess it. In the second parable, however, Jesus focused not on the object, but on the finder, the merchant who - like a shepherd in another parable (Matt. 18:12-14) - had been searching ... in this case for fine pearls. Commentators have therefore suggested that the merchant is God himself, who gave his Son's life in order to redeem us.
A little further in his gospel, Matthew tells us of a young man who clearly embraced the worthy aim of eternal life, and asked how he might achieve it. Jesus told him to sell his possessions and then follow Him ... advice that saddened him because of his wealth (Matt. 19:16-22). Jesus' ensuing conversation with Peter and the others explained this somewhat unexpected demand on the young man.
It's not that God wants to deprive us of our possessions, or that the price of admission to His Kingdom is so high that few if any can afford it (as the disciples feared, v.25). The problem is that the more possessions people have, the more they rely on them for their well-being. The things they own - or their investments - are the focus of their lives; it is they that come to possess their owner! It was the pull of the young man's great wealth that prevented him acceding to Jesus' call to follow Him.
A competition for an expensive holiday or cruise usually states that competitors must be available for travel on a particular date; there's no fee, but a condition. Like prizes such as these, there's no actual charge for us to enter God's Kingdom. Thanks to Jesus' redeeming death on the Cross, it's a gift: all we have to do is accept it; but in order to do so, we have to be free of other 'allegiances'.
What is it that rules your heart?
Of course you wouldn't really be considering a double-amputation ... if nothing else, that would mar your enjoyment of what you'd done it for. It's just a metaphor people use to express a desire for something just beyond the reach of normality: a luxury holiday, the latest i-phone or a night out with <insert name of favourite celebrity>. But come back (a little closer) to reality for a moment. What would you give? What would you really give for a prize like that, or better? a month's salary ... or several perhaps? a year of your life? or even (we're heading into Faustian territory here) ... your soul?
Jesus told a couple of parables that described men who found themselves in just such a situation. One man found some hidden treasure, the other a valuable pearl. Each went away and sold all he had in order to possess what he'd found (Matt. 13:44-46).
At first glance these two seem to be saying the same thing ... but look closer. In the first, Jesus likened the treasure to the Kingdom of Heaven. Someone finding something so wonderful as eternal life in God's Kingdom might well sell all he had to possess it. In the second parable, however, Jesus focused not on the object, but on the finder, the merchant who - like a shepherd in another parable (Matt. 18:12-14) - had been searching ... in this case for fine pearls. Commentators have therefore suggested that the merchant is God himself, who gave his Son's life in order to redeem us.
A little further in his gospel, Matthew tells us of a young man who clearly embraced the worthy aim of eternal life, and asked how he might achieve it. Jesus told him to sell his possessions and then follow Him ... advice that saddened him because of his wealth (Matt. 19:16-22). Jesus' ensuing conversation with Peter and the others explained this somewhat unexpected demand on the young man.
It's not that God wants to deprive us of our possessions, or that the price of admission to His Kingdom is so high that few if any can afford it (as the disciples feared, v.25). The problem is that the more possessions people have, the more they rely on them for their well-being. The things they own - or their investments - are the focus of their lives; it is they that come to possess their owner! It was the pull of the young man's great wealth that prevented him acceding to Jesus' call to follow Him.
A competition for an expensive holiday or cruise usually states that competitors must be available for travel on a particular date; there's no fee, but a condition. Like prizes such as these, there's no actual charge for us to enter God's Kingdom. Thanks to Jesus' redeeming death on the Cross, it's a gift: all we have to do is accept it; but in order to do so, we have to be free of other 'allegiances'.
What is it that rules your heart?
Friday, 1 March 2019
What is Your Candle?
People complain about the length of time that the
Church of England takes to appoint a new vicar, but perhaps the delay is for the best
in some ways. No one likes change and, if there's a year between the
departure of one priest and the installation of the next, it gives the people a chance
to forget about the good points of - and maybe remember some of the bad bits about -
the parson who has just left. What's important is not the personality or habits of the incumbent (although it does help if they're easy to get on with), but their credentials and their spirituality. We've just had a new vicar after just over
a year without and she has been welcomed from day one!
Two complementary factors last weekend highlighted this fundamental point for me. On Saturday, our vicar was one of five
from our church who, among hundreds of other entrants, took part in Muddy Mayhem, a
5 km obstacle race (with mud) in aid of the local hospice. I noticed from
one of the pictures I took that she was wearing her 'dog-collar'. The
next morning, over her normal robes, she was parading her finisher's medal from
the event and used it to thank people for their support and promote the good work
that the hospice does. If you've
dedicated your life - or just some part of it - to a cause or set of beliefs and have been given a badge
as a sign of this, then you should be willing to wear it and make that allegiance known,
rather than be ashamed of the fact.
I recently read about the prophet Elijah in 1 Kings chapters 18 & 19. Elijah had taken a terrific stand for God against the evil king Ahab and his even more evil wife Jezebel. As a result Jezebel had made a sinister and very specific threat against his life. Not surprisingly, we might think, Elijah fled. He didn't just hide behind the hill in the next valley, either; sustained only by angels, he went 200 miles away to Mount Horeb, where Moses had been given the Ten Commandments centuries before.
There God said to him - twice - "What are you doing here, Elijah?" He re-commissioned him, gave him instructions and identified others who would help him finish the job of defeating Ahab once and for all. The implication was that, although exhausted, afraid and depressed, instead of running and hiding far away Elijah should have remained visible, stood his ground in the Lord's strength and completed the task he had been given.
The Gospel tells us (Luke 11:29-36) how Jesus compared the teaching He was giving to His disciples to the mission of Jonah, who had been sent as a sign to Nineveh. "No one lights a lamp," He said, "and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light." (v.33).
If you have a badge or sign of belonging to an organisation of which you're not ashamed (and if you are ashamed of it, why do you still have its badge anyway?), you should be willing to wear it, making it visible to all who know you, and offering others the chance to comment on it or ask you about it.
What's the candle you've been given? Does it shine out?
Two complementary factors last weekend highlighted this fundamental point for me. On Saturday, our vicar was one of five
from our church who, among hundreds of other entrants, took part in Muddy Mayhem, a
5 km obstacle race (with mud) in aid of the local hospice. I noticed from
one of the pictures I took that she was wearing her 'dog-collar'. The
next morning, over her normal robes, she was parading her finisher's medal from
the event and used it to thank people for their support and promote the good work
that the hospice does. If you've
dedicated your life - or just some part of it - to a cause or set of beliefs and have been given a badge
as a sign of this, then you should be willing to wear it and make that allegiance known,
rather than be ashamed of the fact. I recently read about the prophet Elijah in 1 Kings chapters 18 & 19. Elijah had taken a terrific stand for God against the evil king Ahab and his even more evil wife Jezebel. As a result Jezebel had made a sinister and very specific threat against his life. Not surprisingly, we might think, Elijah fled. He didn't just hide behind the hill in the next valley, either; sustained only by angels, he went 200 miles away to Mount Horeb, where Moses had been given the Ten Commandments centuries before.
There God said to him - twice - "What are you doing here, Elijah?" He re-commissioned him, gave him instructions and identified others who would help him finish the job of defeating Ahab once and for all. The implication was that, although exhausted, afraid and depressed, instead of running and hiding far away Elijah should have remained visible, stood his ground in the Lord's strength and completed the task he had been given.
The Gospel tells us (Luke 11:29-36) how Jesus compared the teaching He was giving to His disciples to the mission of Jonah, who had been sent as a sign to Nineveh. "No one lights a lamp," He said, "and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light." (v.33).
If you have a badge or sign of belonging to an organisation of which you're not ashamed (and if you are ashamed of it, why do you still have its badge anyway?), you should be willing to wear it, making it visible to all who know you, and offering others the chance to comment on it or ask you about it.
What's the candle you've been given? Does it shine out?
Friday, 15 February 2019
When the Light Fades
In my Bible readings recently, I've been directed to some verses in Luke ch.6 (there's a similar passage in Matthew, ch.5); they're known as 'Beatitudes', from the Latin for 'blessing'. You may be familiar with some of them, e.g. 'Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.' (Luke 6:21). Verse 17 tells us that a large crowd had gathered, flocking in from near and far.
This was quite early in Jesus' earthly ministry. People had heard that here was someone who could heal sickness, drive away evil spirits and perform other wonderful miracles; they wanted to see for themselves and if possible benefit from what he offered. Certainly the things he promised were very attractive to people like the Jews, who were living under the rigours of Roman occupation. Then, just as nowadays, it was easy to be attracted by the apparent promise of something for nothing, the prospect of the hungry being fed, the poor inheriting this 'Kingdom of God' (whatever it might be in reality, it sounded like something worth having!), and what about those who weep suddenly laughing?
They heard His message in purely practical terms, food where there was none, wealth to replace poverty, and an end to sorrow. This Jesus was going to turn the world on its head! How right they were. The world would never be the same again after Jesus ... but not in the way they were expecting. And is that how we see God, why we say our prayers? Do we think of God, or Jesus, only as a heavenly magician, a purveyor of good fortune?
Jesus told a parable that we know as 'the Parable of the Sower' or 'the Parable of the Soils' (Matthew 13:1-23). In it the reaction of people to His preaching is illustrated by seed sown on a variety of soils. In particular, some seed fell on rocky soil and some among thorns. The seed that fell on rocky ground indicates people who receive the message with joy but quickly fall away in the face of trouble ... or when they don't get what they pray for.
Then there's the seed that fell among thorns. The thorns are all the worries of life, travelling through the snow, coping with the vagaries of a railway system undergoing a change of timetable, or the threat of queues and shortages following Brexit; things that people find pre-occupying, choking the Good News that Jesus brings.
So what happens when things don't go the way we expect, when darkness comes into our world but it seems that the answer to our prayers appears to be 'no' ... or else there's no answer at all? Prayer is not - as some people think - a way of controlling God, of getting Him to do what we need, or what would like. It's not a means of invoking what we read in the scriptures as 'His promises to everybody'. Instead it is a way of bringing us closer to Him, placing ourselves within His control. When He was speaking to his disciples shortly before His death, Jesus warned them, "A time is coming ... when you will be scattered, each to your own home. ... I have told you these things, so that you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:32-33).
Life with Jesus is not one in which everything goes swimmingly all our way. He is with us, through the Holy Spirit, not to help us get around difficulties, but to show us the way through them, and to give us strength and encouragement to overcome them. There's a wonderful story of a man who looked back on his life and saw it in the form of footsteps through the desert. He was reassured to see two sets of footprints, his own and those of his Lord. Then he realised that when he was going through the darkest places, there was only one set of footprints. He asked, "Where were you, God, when I needed you most?" And the Lord said to him, "That was when I was carrying you."
Where are you on the path of life just now? Are there black clouds of misfortune - or worse, despair - overhead? Have you prayed without success for a new car, a job or an extra '0' on your bank balance? Try to share your worries with Someone who wants to be your Friend; ask Him how you can improve your own situation, or talk to someone who is already His friend. Prayer is only complicated if we make it so; it's not only Busby of the BT ad a few years ago who says, 'It's good to talk!'
This was quite early in Jesus' earthly ministry. People had heard that here was someone who could heal sickness, drive away evil spirits and perform other wonderful miracles; they wanted to see for themselves and if possible benefit from what he offered. Certainly the things he promised were very attractive to people like the Jews, who were living under the rigours of Roman occupation. Then, just as nowadays, it was easy to be attracted by the apparent promise of something for nothing, the prospect of the hungry being fed, the poor inheriting this 'Kingdom of God' (whatever it might be in reality, it sounded like something worth having!), and what about those who weep suddenly laughing?
They heard His message in purely practical terms, food where there was none, wealth to replace poverty, and an end to sorrow. This Jesus was going to turn the world on its head! How right they were. The world would never be the same again after Jesus ... but not in the way they were expecting. And is that how we see God, why we say our prayers? Do we think of God, or Jesus, only as a heavenly magician, a purveyor of good fortune?
Jesus told a parable that we know as 'the Parable of the Sower' or 'the Parable of the Soils' (Matthew 13:1-23). In it the reaction of people to His preaching is illustrated by seed sown on a variety of soils. In particular, some seed fell on rocky soil and some among thorns. The seed that fell on rocky ground indicates people who receive the message with joy but quickly fall away in the face of trouble ... or when they don't get what they pray for.
Then there's the seed that fell among thorns. The thorns are all the worries of life, travelling through the snow, coping with the vagaries of a railway system undergoing a change of timetable, or the threat of queues and shortages following Brexit; things that people find pre-occupying, choking the Good News that Jesus brings.
So what happens when things don't go the way we expect, when darkness comes into our world but it seems that the answer to our prayers appears to be 'no' ... or else there's no answer at all? Prayer is not - as some people think - a way of controlling God, of getting Him to do what we need, or what would like. It's not a means of invoking what we read in the scriptures as 'His promises to everybody'. Instead it is a way of bringing us closer to Him, placing ourselves within His control. When He was speaking to his disciples shortly before His death, Jesus warned them, "A time is coming ... when you will be scattered, each to your own home. ... I have told you these things, so that you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:32-33).
Life with Jesus is not one in which everything goes swimmingly all our way. He is with us, through the Holy Spirit, not to help us get around difficulties, but to show us the way through them, and to give us strength and encouragement to overcome them. There's a wonderful story of a man who looked back on his life and saw it in the form of footsteps through the desert. He was reassured to see two sets of footprints, his own and those of his Lord. Then he realised that when he was going through the darkest places, there was only one set of footprints. He asked, "Where were you, God, when I needed you most?" And the Lord said to him, "That was when I was carrying you."
Where are you on the path of life just now? Are there black clouds of misfortune - or worse, despair - overhead? Have you prayed without success for a new car, a job or an extra '0' on your bank balance? Try to share your worries with Someone who wants to be your Friend; ask Him how you can improve your own situation, or talk to someone who is already His friend. Prayer is only complicated if we make it so; it's not only Busby of the BT ad a few years ago who says, 'It's good to talk!'
Friday, 1 February 2019
Book-ends
I don't believe it's that uncommon for people to link a specific occurrence to an earlier one of which it is either a repeat or the reverse ... like the selling of a car, for example, linked to its original purchase. But, on such an occasion, do you reflect on all that the pages between those two 'book-end' events record?
Last Saturday, I finalised a short sequence that saw the disposal of the robes I had used when serving as a Reader in my village church in Norfolk. In a few months' time it will be 38 years since I was one of a party of young (mostly) men who were admitted and licensed in Norwich Cathedral; I obtained at that time a small suitcase that became home to those robes, and has remained so ever since. Now they have found a new home, and have taken the case with them ... leaving me a small free space in my bedroom.
At the time, my licensing provided useful support to a priest who had four parishes to look after. Another Reader and I (he was licensed the following year) were able, with the help of a retired Bishop who lived nearby, to keep things running a couple of years later when we were without a Rector, and then provided similar support to the next incumbent. After a few years my personal circumstances changed; I moved to Hertfordshire, and made a number of efforts to continue to support my church in a similar way, all to no avail. From the church's point of view, that phase of my ministry had come to an end.
For me, however, there was no going back to what had been before. There are different forms of ministry: some ordained, some lay; there are different forms of lay ministry: some licensed, some not. Not all Readers are in licensed positions ... for many years now I've been one of them and this blog is one way in which I serve the wider church ... service not confined to my own denomination and certainly not just to my own parish. I regard being a Reader as a way of life: as much so now as then when I wore the blue scarf. I recognise, though, that my parochial services are no longer going to be required; so it seems appropriate to pass on the paraphernalia of those times to someone with whom they can once more be put to use.
I also recognise the possibility of other challenges on the horizon. When I was admitted all those years ago, I was presented with a New Testament and a Service Book. In the front of the latter was a dedication, signed by both the Bishop and my Rector, referring to the Bible verse "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor."(Luke 4:18). These were words that Jesus quoted from Isaiah's prophecy when he preached in the synagogue at Nazareth, his home town. They marked a turning point in His life, and on the occasion of my admission, they marked a turning point in my own.
Those same words were part of the readings in our service on Sunday, the day after I'd handed over my robes. It underlines last weekend as a book-end moment. Over the last year or so, there have been changes in my life, in my behaviour and in the things that I'm involved with; at the turn of the year I handed over the Health & Safety responsibilities that I held in my church for the last three years, and I find myself asking 'What now?' So far there is no sign of an answer to that question.
But what have my experiences to say to you, dear reader? What might be happening in your life - right now - that is a ending, matching something that began a while ago? The Holy Spirit speaks to us in a variety of ways and we must be careful not to read too much into what could be a coincidence. However, if we don't get the message the first time, there could well be a repeat and we have to be ready to respond.
Last Saturday, I finalised a short sequence that saw the disposal of the robes I had used when serving as a Reader in my village church in Norfolk. In a few months' time it will be 38 years since I was one of a party of young (mostly) men who were admitted and licensed in Norwich Cathedral; I obtained at that time a small suitcase that became home to those robes, and has remained so ever since. Now they have found a new home, and have taken the case with them ... leaving me a small free space in my bedroom.
At the time, my licensing provided useful support to a priest who had four parishes to look after. Another Reader and I (he was licensed the following year) were able, with the help of a retired Bishop who lived nearby, to keep things running a couple of years later when we were without a Rector, and then provided similar support to the next incumbent. After a few years my personal circumstances changed; I moved to Hertfordshire, and made a number of efforts to continue to support my church in a similar way, all to no avail. From the church's point of view, that phase of my ministry had come to an end.
For me, however, there was no going back to what had been before. There are different forms of ministry: some ordained, some lay; there are different forms of lay ministry: some licensed, some not. Not all Readers are in licensed positions ... for many years now I've been one of them and this blog is one way in which I serve the wider church ... service not confined to my own denomination and certainly not just to my own parish. I regard being a Reader as a way of life: as much so now as then when I wore the blue scarf. I recognise, though, that my parochial services are no longer going to be required; so it seems appropriate to pass on the paraphernalia of those times to someone with whom they can once more be put to use.
I also recognise the possibility of other challenges on the horizon. When I was admitted all those years ago, I was presented with a New Testament and a Service Book. In the front of the latter was a dedication, signed by both the Bishop and my Rector, referring to the Bible verse "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor."(Luke 4:18). These were words that Jesus quoted from Isaiah's prophecy when he preached in the synagogue at Nazareth, his home town. They marked a turning point in His life, and on the occasion of my admission, they marked a turning point in my own.
Those same words were part of the readings in our service on Sunday, the day after I'd handed over my robes. It underlines last weekend as a book-end moment. Over the last year or so, there have been changes in my life, in my behaviour and in the things that I'm involved with; at the turn of the year I handed over the Health & Safety responsibilities that I held in my church for the last three years, and I find myself asking 'What now?' So far there is no sign of an answer to that question.
But what have my experiences to say to you, dear reader? What might be happening in your life - right now - that is a ending, matching something that began a while ago? The Holy Spirit speaks to us in a variety of ways and we must be careful not to read too much into what could be a coincidence. However, if we don't get the message the first time, there could well be a repeat and we have to be ready to respond.
Tuesday, 15 January 2019
Holiday Time
First of all, I must apologise if you're one of the handful of readers who faithfully followed me in my brief flirtation with Wordpress. This year I have decided that, when I'm particularly busy or when the muse deserts me, I shall repeat - duly edited where appropriate - some of the pieces that first appeared there.
It's the time of year again when we decide how to spend our holidays. Now I'm retired, I have the privilege of taking a break when I feel like it. Sometimes it's just a day out, or a weekend; as usual this spring I shall join my fellow bell-ringers for a weekend away - this year, for the second time, in Warwickshire - to try out other bells than those at our home tower. But once a year I try to arrange a proper holiday: a week or so at a particular place I haven't been to before.
How do you make your choice? Do you simply want to relax on a beach in the sun? Or maybe you prefer an action holiday, walking, or pony-trekking or perhaps following a favourite hobby. Do you go for the cheapest available, or filter quality facilities or an unfulfilled ambition into your decision-making process?
Long ago I worked for a Christian travel company, where I read the claim that the only Bible verse with a holiday theme is "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest" (Mark 6:31). It was used to publicise formal retreats and, for some, this may be the ideal break: a chance for spiritual refreshment. But what else does the Bible offer that we can relate in a general sense to holidays?
The Psalms often provide us with words we can use to express to God our deepest personal feelings, our emotions and frustrations with the life around us. I'd like to share with you some verses from them that might be relevant, if not to an actual holiday, at least to the general aims of a break from daily life: rest, restoration and refreshment.
Sleep is always important, but in troubled times it doesn't come easily. We are reminded of the assurance that answered prayer can bring peace: "I call out to the Lord and he answers me ... I lie down and sleep; I wake again because the Lord sustains me." (Ps.3:4-5). God "refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for His name's sake." (Ps.23:3).
There are times in life when disaster or tragedy strikes. I like the way the NET Bible puts these verses. "I was in serious trouble and He delivered me. Rest once more, my soul, for the Lord has vindicated you." (Ps.116:6-7). God is always ready to listen to our prayers, and answers each prayer to give us of His best.
Of course, most holidays involve at least some travel. God is with us on the road, while afloat, in the air or aboard the coach: "You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways." (Ps. 139:3).
And remember that God never takes a holiday in the way we do; He's always there when we choose to listen to Him. Don't forget to add your Bible to your packing list this year ... or maybe download one of the many available Bible apps for your phone!
Whenever it comes, have a good break!
It's the time of year again when we decide how to spend our holidays. Now I'm retired, I have the privilege of taking a break when I feel like it. Sometimes it's just a day out, or a weekend; as usual this spring I shall join my fellow bell-ringers for a weekend away - this year, for the second time, in Warwickshire - to try out other bells than those at our home tower. But once a year I try to arrange a proper holiday: a week or so at a particular place I haven't been to before.
How do you make your choice? Do you simply want to relax on a beach in the sun? Or maybe you prefer an action holiday, walking, or pony-trekking or perhaps following a favourite hobby. Do you go for the cheapest available, or filter quality facilities or an unfulfilled ambition into your decision-making process?
Long ago I worked for a Christian travel company, where I read the claim that the only Bible verse with a holiday theme is "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest" (Mark 6:31). It was used to publicise formal retreats and, for some, this may be the ideal break: a chance for spiritual refreshment. But what else does the Bible offer that we can relate in a general sense to holidays?
The Psalms often provide us with words we can use to express to God our deepest personal feelings, our emotions and frustrations with the life around us. I'd like to share with you some verses from them that might be relevant, if not to an actual holiday, at least to the general aims of a break from daily life: rest, restoration and refreshment.
Sleep is always important, but in troubled times it doesn't come easily. We are reminded of the assurance that answered prayer can bring peace: "I call out to the Lord and he answers me ... I lie down and sleep; I wake again because the Lord sustains me." (Ps.3:4-5). God "refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for His name's sake." (Ps.23:3).
There are times in life when disaster or tragedy strikes. I like the way the NET Bible puts these verses. "I was in serious trouble and He delivered me. Rest once more, my soul, for the Lord has vindicated you." (Ps.116:6-7). God is always ready to listen to our prayers, and answers each prayer to give us of His best.
Of course, most holidays involve at least some travel. God is with us on the road, while afloat, in the air or aboard the coach: "You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways." (Ps. 139:3).
And remember that God never takes a holiday in the way we do; He's always there when we choose to listen to Him. Don't forget to add your Bible to your packing list this year ... or maybe download one of the many available Bible apps for your phone!
Whenever it comes, have a good break!
Tuesday, 1 January 2019
Hedging and Ditching
I know someone who keeps a detailed diary of his life. He has written this daily account of his comings and goings for many years, sometimes to the exasperation of other family members. But for him it’s not just a matter of academic record; with some pleasure he will take a volume from the shelf and read it as a book, delighting in the story of his life.
By contrast, my father was a farm worker all his working life and was not given to literary endeavour. His diary served much the same function, insofar as it recorded what he had done at work, day by day, but often the record would consist of only two or three words, identifying the basic task and sometimes a field name. A typical entry might be ‘ploughing, 4 acres’ or ‘horse-hoeing beet’. In the winter months, the same entry would often appear a week or more at a time, ‘hedging and ditching’.
In my early years, I would watch him guiding his pen carefully round those letters. I had no idea what the words meant; I simply knew that the two always occurred together. Only later did I realise that a ditch is often accompanied by a hedge, and so it made sense to maintain the two at the same time.
In fact, these tasks complement one another; they’re two sides of the same coin. The hedges were trimmed to ensure even growth and any gaps were bridged with hurdles, while the banks of the ditch were cleared and any rubbish taken away, to allow the free flow of water from the field. On the one hand, it was important to provide a secure boundary through which animals couldn’t escape when they were let out into the meadows to graze after spending the winter months indoors. On the other hand, good drainage was important to stop the lower parts of the meadow from becoming too muddy. In short, the strategy was one of filtering: keeping the wanted in, while allowing the unwanted to escape.
This is a desirable strategy for our lives as faithful Christians. It would be fair to say that the church in Philippi might have been Paul’s favourite of all those to whom he wrote. In his Commentary on the New Testament, Frank B Hole says that Paul’s letter to them “is not characterised by the unfolding of doctrine, as are the epistles to the Romans and the Ephesians, but by a spirit of great intimacy — for there was a very strong bond of affection between Paul and the Philippian saints — and by many personal details being given.” In Hole’s view, the letter gives an insight into Paul’s personality. By extension, therefore, we can see the way he cared for the spiritual well-being of these people of whom he was very fond.
One of the examples of this care is expressed in the final chapter of the letter and is, I think, illustrated by the work my father and others like him spent so much of their winter months doing on the farm. Paul wrote, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me – put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
What Paul desired most for his friends in Philippi was that they should know God’s peace in their lives, just as he himself did. Paul knew that the life around these early Christians was a mixture of good and bad. To achieve the godly peace that was his goal for them, it was important that they should focus their thoughts and lives on the values that he had taught them and to expunge, so far as was possible, all the rest that their daily lives could ‘offer’ them.
Just as the labourer’s exercise of ‘hedging and ditching’ achieved good drainage and safe pasture for the farm animals, so we need to follow Paul’s advice so far as our spiritual lives are concerned, and trap for our delight and development the good things around us, while letting all that is foul and sleazy in life pass us by.
What targets have you set for your spiritual filters in the New Year?
By contrast, my father was a farm worker all his working life and was not given to literary endeavour. His diary served much the same function, insofar as it recorded what he had done at work, day by day, but often the record would consist of only two or three words, identifying the basic task and sometimes a field name. A typical entry might be ‘ploughing, 4 acres’ or ‘horse-hoeing beet’. In the winter months, the same entry would often appear a week or more at a time, ‘hedging and ditching’.
In my early years, I would watch him guiding his pen carefully round those letters. I had no idea what the words meant; I simply knew that the two always occurred together. Only later did I realise that a ditch is often accompanied by a hedge, and so it made sense to maintain the two at the same time.
In fact, these tasks complement one another; they’re two sides of the same coin. The hedges were trimmed to ensure even growth and any gaps were bridged with hurdles, while the banks of the ditch were cleared and any rubbish taken away, to allow the free flow of water from the field. On the one hand, it was important to provide a secure boundary through which animals couldn’t escape when they were let out into the meadows to graze after spending the winter months indoors. On the other hand, good drainage was important to stop the lower parts of the meadow from becoming too muddy. In short, the strategy was one of filtering: keeping the wanted in, while allowing the unwanted to escape.
This is a desirable strategy for our lives as faithful Christians. It would be fair to say that the church in Philippi might have been Paul’s favourite of all those to whom he wrote. In his Commentary on the New Testament, Frank B Hole says that Paul’s letter to them “is not characterised by the unfolding of doctrine, as are the epistles to the Romans and the Ephesians, but by a spirit of great intimacy — for there was a very strong bond of affection between Paul and the Philippian saints — and by many personal details being given.” In Hole’s view, the letter gives an insight into Paul’s personality. By extension, therefore, we can see the way he cared for the spiritual well-being of these people of whom he was very fond.
One of the examples of this care is expressed in the final chapter of the letter and is, I think, illustrated by the work my father and others like him spent so much of their winter months doing on the farm. Paul wrote, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me – put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
What Paul desired most for his friends in Philippi was that they should know God’s peace in their lives, just as he himself did. Paul knew that the life around these early Christians was a mixture of good and bad. To achieve the godly peace that was his goal for them, it was important that they should focus their thoughts and lives on the values that he had taught them and to expunge, so far as was possible, all the rest that their daily lives could ‘offer’ them.
Just as the labourer’s exercise of ‘hedging and ditching’ achieved good drainage and safe pasture for the farm animals, so we need to follow Paul’s advice so far as our spiritual lives are concerned, and trap for our delight and development the good things around us, while letting all that is foul and sleazy in life pass us by.
What targets have you set for your spiritual filters in the New Year?
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