Spick and Span

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Right Click

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

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

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

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

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

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

Going Back

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

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

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

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

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

Loving my Neighbour

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

---

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

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

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

                                                                                              ---

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

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

Just Saying ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life on the Edge

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

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

Service at the end of Holiday Club

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What can I do?

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

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

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

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

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

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