Saturday, 1 July 2017

No Laundry in Heaven?

Like many people, I’m not a fan of wash day.  I think there’s a lot of truth in the expression ‘washday blues’ (and I don’t mind admitting my age by adding that this doesn’t refer to a little blue cube in a cloth cover, made by Reckitts!)

There’s a feeling of resentment as the wash basket gradually fills and the day draws nearer for the well-rehearsed routine to be kicked off again.  OK, it’s much easier for us today than it was in Victorian times, but the general sequence of load, wash, unload, dry and iron remains and the finale is putting away the clean clothes in the knowledge that they won’t stay clean for long.

It’s a thankless task and one inevitably needing constant repetition.

Similar in its quality of a relentless need for repetition was the Old Testament pattern of Temple sacrifices.  The sacrifices were demanded by the Law in an attempt to obtain forgiveness for specific sins, which were detailed in a very long list.  In essence, it was contended, the blood spilled in killing the animals for sacrifice settled the account with God instead of the blood of the sinner.  The sacrifices had no more effect on the underlying sinfulness of the people than the constant washing has on the propensity of the clothes to get dirty in use.

Although the dimensions are different, a similar argument can be offered in respect of the 21st century Christian church.  The sequence of confession and absolution, whether individually or corporate, is effectively a reminder of the once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus to pay for the sins of those who believe in Him and repent of them.  It has no lasting effect on the underlying sinfulness of humanity.

St Paul presents us with an excellent explanation of the sinful human condition (Romans 7:15-25).  In the following chapter he makes it clear that, once we have accepted God’s Holy Spirit into our lives (8:9), it controls us, rather than the sins that did before (what Paul refers to as ‘the flesh’).  If we set our minds (8:5) – in the sense that a piece of machinery is set according to surrounding conditions or local legislation – on a worldly basis (the flesh), then our destiny is no better than that of the people of the ancient world.  If, however, we use the Spirit as the basis for ‘re-setting our mind on Him’, then we can look forward to ‘life and peace’ (8:6) with Christ, the Lamb of God.

Revelation is a book of images; there are lots of pictures and as many interpretations of them as there are people willing to contrive them.  However, one image that I find particularly encouraging is this one.  “After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.  They were wearing white robes and we holding palm branches in their hands” (Rev. 7:9).

A few verses later we are brought back to my opening theme, when John, who saw all these images and described them in his book, asked about these people.  He was told, “they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (v.14).  I like to think that the verses that follow imply that, once so powerfully washed, those robes would require no further cleansing!

Thursday, 15 June 2017

Two's Company; Three is ...?

What begins with S, and is found in almost every newspaper you pick up? 

Forget about all the political claims and counter-claims; in the last decade or so, in a variety of formats, the Sudoku challenge has quietly conquered the nation.  Nine numbers in nine spaces, nine times; all you have to do is miss the ones that are already there.  There isn’t even the need to make them add up to anything: no calculation is involved!   The principle is so simple, yet so addictive.  I wonder how many man-hours this little square absorbs each day?

Simple it may be, but Sudoku can be far-reaching in its application, for doesn’t it reflect the very nature of life?  Life itself is a mixture: I’m sure each of us can think of nine different components – and more – that make it up.  For a happy and contented life these components have to be in balance: some of each, and not too much of any one of them, rather like each line and box of the completed Sudoku puzzle.  Some food, for example, is essential, but too much causes indigestion and obesity.  St Paul counselled a little wine for the stomach (1Tim. 5:23), but there is condemnation of drunkenness (1 Peter 4:3); and while laziness is to be discouraged, “all work and no play …”

It may be a contrived symbolism, but notice, too, that the Sudoku square is divided into threes: three squares by three; three smaller squares by three in each larger one.  In the church calendar, last Sunday was Trinity Sunday, when we marked especially the fact that our faith is Trinitarian.  Not three gods, but three distinct components of one God, seeing Him as Father, Son and Holy Spirit ... respectively the creator of the universe, the redeemer of mankind and the counsellor present within every believer. 

It’s easy to look at the state of world affairs and be discouraged.  It is important to  remember the balance of life, both international and personal, and see the good as well as the bad, to recall the presence of our triune God in it all.  We’re not alone.  In one of His final moments on this earth, Jesus said to His disciples, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:20).  This wasn’t just a parting comfort to those few, who had spent years with Him in Palestine and now would see Him no more. 

If we look back to the beginning of Matthew’s gospel, we find lots of genealogies but, at the end of his first chapter, he gives the meaning and promise that Jesus came to fulfil.  Centuries earlier, the prophet Isaiah had told the people, “Look!  The virgin will conceive and bear a son, and they will call him Emmanuel” which means ‘God with us’ (Isaiah 7:14, Matt. 1:23).

Next time you pick up a paper and turn to the puzzle page – perhaps in frustration or despair – look at the Sudoku square and remember those three words, ‘God with us”.

Thursday, 1 June 2017

Stones

If you’re planning a seaside holiday, you may well bring back some stones from the beach as a memento of your visit.  What will happen to them after the excitement they recall has faded?  They could lead you into worthwhile meditation.

The feast of Pentecost this weekend concludes the sequence of commemorations that began back in February with Ash Wednesday at the start of Lent.  We easily recall the good news of Easter, when the stone was found to be rolled away from the tomb (Matt. 28:2).

But the Bible has much more to say about stones.  For example, used with a skill born of experience, they can be an effective weapon, as Goliath found to his cost (1 Sam. 17:49)!  Spectacular as this story involving stones is, however, we mustn’t be deterred from thinking of their constructive use.

Stone is a strong material, and hence a very good structural basis for a building, but it doesn’t necessarily provide the fine finish that makes the end-product beautiful. Subject to strict guidelines (1 Kings 6:7), quarried stone was used by Solomon for the building of the temple, but this was all covered with cedar so that no stone was visible in the finished structure (v.18).

Writing about the perils of everyday life, the ‘Preacher’ of the Old Testament warned about the dangers associated with quarrying stones (Ecclesiastes 10:9).  Perhaps with the many powerful things that man has created in modern times, we should be even more careful, such as in driving fast cars, dealing with high electrical voltages or using potent drugs.  Stones are also a reminder to avoid temptation ... or at least to seek help in overcoming it.

During those long days in the desert, Jesus was tempted to use His divine powers for His own ends by turning stones into bread (Matt. 4:3), but He was able to turn to Scripture to defeat Satan: “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Deut. 8:3).

Looking at those stones you bring back from the beach, there is much to learn from them.  One example is our responsibility.  Look at the story of Palm Sunday, beginning at Luke 19:28.  The crowds were cheering and rejoicing as Jesus entered Jerusalem but the Pharisees didn’t like this and tried to quieten them.  Jesus’ response was, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out!” (v.40).  The idiom of speaking stones is an echo from the Old Testament (Hab. 2:11), and tells us that we are to speak out about Jesus and the salvation he brings.  If we don’t, creation itself will take up the call.

Finally, if you are in any doubt about this implied charge, check out what Peter has to say (1 Peter 2:4-9).  He reminds his readers, “You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (v.5).

Happy holidays!

Monday, 15 May 2017

Remember to Fill Up

One of the advantages of the life of a courier (that’s what I did before I retired) was going to unexpected places.  One day I found myself in Wicklow in the Republic of Ireland, with time to spare before catching the ferry to come home.  In a charity shop, I found an unused pair of stout walking shoes priced at only €6.  The bonus, when I took them to the cashier, was that they had a sale on that day and I got them for even less!  I found that they were a little on the big side, but I fitted them with insoles and heel-grips; I use a second pair of socks and there'll be years of wear in them.

The presence of a gap where there shouldn’t be one is surprisingly common.  I’m sure at least some of you will know about the adverse effects of an air-lock in a fuel line.  Many more will have experienced the chilling consequences of a radiator that needs bleeding to remove air in the wrong place.  As if by a miracle, the water gushes in to fill the space and warmth is restored. 

The common factor is a need to fill space with what ought to be there.  It’s not too late to think of spring cleaning.  If you’ve spent a while going through your home, you may agree that it’s definitely a two-stage job.  First comes the identification of what’s not wanted, and clearing out the rubbish.  Do you then declare the job finished at the end of stage one, i.e. with empty drawers, or a spare alcove somewhere?  I’m inclined almost to guarantee that someone will find something that ‘will fit that space nicely’.  If you don’t want that alcove to provide a parking place for a pile of old newspapers – or worse – you have to move quickly on to stage two: fill the space with something worthwhile.  My advice is to invest in a large pot plant and a tall stool to place it on!

You may ask, "What have all these examples to do with our faith?"   Of course, the same logic also applies to spiritual things.  Look at Matthew 12:43-45, where Jesus speaks of removing an unclean spirit.  In modern parlance that might be an unhealthy or sinful habit. The cleaning operation leaves us with an empty space, or our life with spare time; how should we fill it?  If we don’t take on some good work, a new occupation or hobby, how easy would it be to go back to the old habit that we thought had been ‘cleaned out’?

Eight or nine times in the New Testament (according to your translation, of course), St. Luke uses the expression ‘filled with the Holy Spirit’.  See if you can find them all; here are some clues.  Three of them are part of what we consider to be the Christmas story.  Of the rest, one refers to Peter and two to Paul; arguably the remaining others are the most significant, since they refer, in one way or another to all believers. 

Is there a space in your life that ought to be properly filled?

Monday, 1 May 2017

The Door to Salvation

I don’t know about you, but most men have keys in their pockets.  Maybe just one, sometimes a whole bunch.  This isn’t a sexist thing, either.  What woman doesn’t carry keys of one sort or another in her handbag?  Keys come in all sorts and sizes, for cupboards and cash tins, cars and doors ... even flat ones like a credit card for hotel rooms!

I have a phobia about locking myself out of my flat.  Fortunately, there’s a shelf just inside the door, where I keep all my keys.  Whenever I go out, it’s difficult to do so without looking at that shelf, and it’s a reminder to pick up a key before passing through the door.  Fortunately the flat door is not the ‘slam’ kind; it actually needs a key to turn in the lock to fasten it, so there are a few extra moments of safety before I reach the outside door, in which I can check that I’ve got the key.  So far I’ve never got as far as the street without.

I’ve recently been pushing leaflets through letterboxes, so they’ve suddenly found a raised profile for me, but doors – and the keys that unlock them – are generally something we take for granted in the western world.  They are so much a part of life that, while our security depends upon them, they don’t come over as having their own identity, style and beauty.

In our home group this week, we took a look ‘over our shoulder’ at Easter and its significance.  John, a man of comparatively few words, but of deep thought, picked up on the theme of salvation (we had just read John 3:36, noting that the verb for possession of eternal life was in the present, not in the future), and asked, “Is it really that simple?”  I looked up in some surprise at this man, whose quiet faith I had long admired.  He went on, “I know that we can’t earn our salvation, but I still marvel that all we have to do is believe ... and we have it!”

John had been thinking about Paul’s letter to the Romans, where he tells us, “a person is justified by faith, apart from the works of the law.” (Romans 3:28).  The fact that God saves us by faith alone eliminates any thought of pride in what we have achieved; it gives all the credit to Him and not to us and admits that, whatever our strengths and qualities, we are unable to live up to the law’s demands by our own means.

Twice in his earthly ministry, Jesus gave illustrations of this.  He visited the home of Jairus, a synagogue leader whose daughter was dying.  People came out saying that the girl had died, and Jesus told them, “Don’t be afraid: just believe.”  Minutes later, the girl stood up and walked about (Mark 5:36-42).  On the way, Jesus had been delayed by a woman who, seeing the crowds around Him, and perhaps with some embarrassment, touched his clothes instead of openly asking for help.  Immediately, she was healed of an intimate problem that had troubled her for years.  He had felt power go from Him, confronted her, and told her that her faith had healed her.

A heavy door can bar the way into the house and no matter how hard we throw our weight against it, it won’t budge.  But use just two fingers to turn a small key in the lock and ... bingo!  The door is open.  Call it faith, call it belief, it’s the key to eternal life.  All we have to do is to trust God and his promises.

As my friend John said, “it is that simple.”

Saturday, 15 April 2017

"Bruced!"

Robert the Bruce didn’t have a monopoly on spider meditation.

In common with countless other people, I hate the things.  I’m not really sure why, though; maybe it’s because they’re small and scurry so quickly to and fro.  Mice I can just about accept.  Once, before I moved to my present home, I watched one dashing back and forth on the kitchen worktops, before removing him for hygiene’s sake.  I recall thinking he was quite an attractive little character.  By contrast, spiders – with apologies to any arachnophile readers – are just plain ugly.

One day whilst standing in the bath, I noticed a tiny spider making a steady track across the ceiling.  As I watched it, I pondered.  Allowing for my many excursions, I reckoned that the spider probably spent more time in the flat than I did.  Would that rank him superior in occupancy, give him some authority over me?  Then I thought, if it wasn’t for me paying the rent, setting the heating and so on, he wouldn’t have such a pleasant time of it.

I compared the spider’s situation vis-à-vis me to mine vis-à-vis God.  I thought of God’s provision for us in this world that we laughingly call ‘ours’.  How different, for example, would our lives be if the sun were only a few degrees warmer or cooler?  This is far easier to imagine these days, with all the publicity about global warming, which could soon become a real threat to our accepted way of life.  I decided that this was a good illustration of the dependence of the small on the beneficence of the large, both in my flat and in the wider cosmos.

Then the spider made his big mistake, dropping on an almost invisible strand of web (just as I imagine the Bruce’s friend must have done in that cave all those centuries ago).  This one didn’t struggle to climb back up, however.  He just hung there, menacingly, at the end of the line: only a few inches in front of my face.  Calmly, I passed a hand above him, caught the web, and deftly dropped him down the plughole.  Goodbye, spider; hello, peace of mind.

Only … now I hate spiders even more for, after a praiseworthy lesson in divine provision, in his demise this little creature had reminded me of the horrible cruelty of my humanity, and how far we fall short of God’s standards: how much we deserve the fullness of His wrath.  The sixth Commandment says, “Thou shalt not kill.” (Ex. 20:13, KJV).  It is a teaching about the very sanctity of life, over and above the usual interpretation of ‘murder’.

Isaiah tells us, “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.” (Is. 42:3).  It’s a clear indication that God cares for the sick, the poor and the defenceless.  These verses refer to a ‘suffering servant’, and are generally accepted as a prophecy about Jesus.  They teach us characteristics of gentleness, encouragement, justice and truth.   Matthew quoted them immediately after Jesus had healed a man’s shrivelled hand in defiance of the Pharisees, whose view was that this shouldn’t have been done on the Sabbath (Mt. 12:18-21).

This is about far greater things than sparing the life of a spider.  Isaiah’s prophecy goes on to call all to serve God by many different sorts of kindness, to shine the light of His love on all around us (vv. 6-7).  But the death of that spider is a symbol of the way that we treat this obligation so lightly as we go about our lives of comparative luxury ... often ignoring it completely!  What chance of acquittal would we stand in the face of God’s judgment, if it were not for Jesus’ sacrifice to cancel out our sin?

Saturday, 1 April 2017

Managing the Abattoir

I’m not a vegetarian.  I don’t think I could ever be one.  Although I love the magical flavours that a good veggie dish can offer, I wouldn’t like to be completely without the meat-and-veg option.  We are told that we are made in God’s image; on that basis - though it might be opening myself to a charge of blasphemy - I question whether or not He is a vegetarian.  That said, ...

Our home group has been following a Lent study that traces the history of sacrifice, as its title says, ‘From the Ram to the Lamb’.  It begins in the world of animal sacrifice.  Perfect specimens – ‘a male without defect’ (Leviticus 1:3 etc.) – were killed in a bid to restore men who had sinned to their place of fellowship with God.  

The sacrifices were based on the simple concept that behaviour contrary to God’s wishes was to be punished by death.  Such behaviour is what we call ‘sin’, and a good general summary is to be found in the Ten Commandments (see Exodus 20:1-17 or Deuteronomy 5:6-21).  In his letter to the Romans, Paul goes into great detail about sin and punishment, leading to his famous conclusion “the wages of sin is death ...” (Rom. 6:23).  It was this death, the death of the sinner himself, that was avoided by the animal sacrifices.

God didn’t want sacrifices.  The prophet Ezekiel was told to tell the Israelites, “I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live.” (Ez. 33:11).  The psalmist recognised the same truth. “You do not delight in sacrifice or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.  My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.” (Ps. 51:16-17).  But the people grew no more virtuous.  In some ways, it’s no wonder that they were afraid of God.  The priests had no time to explain the loving side of His nature: they were too busy managing the abattoir!

From what Jesus said, people thought that he wanted to throw out the Law that they had tried to live by for centuries.  As Matthew tells us, this was not the case; He hadn’t come to abolish the Law but in fulfilment of it (Matt. 5:17).  Yes, sin still had to be punished; yes, the price was still death.  Now, however, there was a new alternative.  Instead of an animal, and another animal, and another animal ad nauseam ... Jesus died – just once – to pay for the sins of all of mankind. 

Our course ends with that once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross.  In his letter, Paul continues with a wonderful contrast.  Having spelled out the ‘wages of sin’, i.e. what we deserve for our behaviour, he explains that, instead of death, we can enjoy a free gift, Eternal Life (Rom. 6:23).  As a friend put it this week, “as a result of our acceptance that Jesus died for our sins (John 3:16-18), we are ‘in Him’; so when God looks at our sins, all He sees is the perfection of His Son.”

Later this month, you might be eating Easter eggs.  Before then, you could either eat or reject a roast dinner.  As you consider meat, spare a thought for those perfect animals slaughtered long ago, and remember the freedom you can now enjoy from the consequences of your sins.