Time to pester the pastor?

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” Lamentations 3:22-24

My wife and I were reading the other day from Lamentations 3. (Has it ever struck you, by the way, that the Bible, an essentially good news book, contains a whole book entitled “Lamentations”, which sounds more like bad news? I think that simple fact tells us something very important…)

Lamentations 3 includes the beautiful words above. As we read them together they called to mind an equally beautiful hymn, which we had both sung many years ago as young Christians. I think it is worth setting out in full, and I invite you to take a few minutes to read and absorb it. The language, of course, is old-fashioned – but, after all, the writer was an Anglican clergyman called John Keble, from the Victorian period, so that must be expected, and is surely well worth grappling with…

1 New every morning is the love
our wakening and uprising prove;
through sleep and darkness safely brought,
restored to life and power and thought.

2 New mercies, each returning day,
hover around us while we pray;
new perils past, new sins forgiven,
new thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven.

3 If on our daily course our mind
be set to hallow all we find,
new treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

4 The trivial round, the common task,
will furnish all we need to ask,
room to deny ourselves, a road
to bring us daily nearer God.

5 Only, O Lord, in thy dear love
fit us for perfect rest above;
and help us, this and every day,
to live more nearly as we pray.

It must be twenty years or more since I last sung that hymn, and being reminded of it was a sheer delight. (It really saddens me that such treasures from bygone centuries are largely lost to the church today: a whole generation of modern Christians know next to nothing of two thousand years of rich hymnody. How, I wonder, can we be so arrogant as to let that happen? (And no, I’m not just an old man being nostalgic!)

Why do I find it so precious?

First, it’s simple and almost child-like, but certainly not childish.

Just five short verses (six in some versions). Each of them opens up a solid new thought (no endless repetition!), offering us a fresh idea to ponder, something to nourish and stimulate our faith.

Second, it’s scripture-based.

It is, in effect, a mini-sermon in song, opening up different aspects of what it means to be a Christian, and to live out in practice this wonderful Christian life.

Third, it’s God-centred, not me-centred.

Have you noticed how many songs and hymns (old as well as new, to be fair) tend to be about how I feel, rather than about what God is like?Certainly, there is a place for I/me songs, but if we over-do them we are in danger of becoming narcissistic – it’s all about me, and God is just a means to an end. And that’s very unhealthy spiritually.

Fourth, it’s realistic, not sentimental.

Verse 2 reminds us that every day we are in need of “new mercies” (there is never a moment when we are not dependent on him), that there will be “new perils” (the devil is always active!), and, yes, “new sins” needing to be forgiven (we’re still far from perect).

Verse 4 reminds us that the Christian life often consists basically of “the trivial round, the common task” (doing the washing, perhaps, or picking up the children from school, or turning up to a boring job) – but how each such chore presents us with “a road/ To bring us daily nearer God”.

Being a Christian isn’t hallelujahs all the way! Every day we are called to find “room to deny ourselves” (self-denial, I suspect, probably isn’t the strongest suit of most of us!).

Fifth, it’s positive, encouraging and challenging.

Verse 3 reminds us that every day it’s our business – indeed, our responsibility – to “set our mind to hallow all we find”; in other words, to seek the holy presence of God in even those most routine tasks of life.

Personally, I specially appreciate the way, after four verses of meditation and reflection, the final verse becomes a prayer. I’ll spell it out at the end of this blog, but just point out here that it reminds us that when all these daily blessings and struggles are finally over we are destined for “perfect  rest above”. We all have homes here on this earth (I hope so, anyway: may God give us compassionate hearts for the truly homeless) but they are nothing compared with what awaits us!

In a nutshell… every day of our lives is an opportunity to know God better, to learn something new about him, and to trust him, however hard the way may be. It’s the same theme as the more modern song “One day at a time, sweet Jesus”, but fleshed out, I think, with deeper reflection.

May it do us all good today!

Only, O Lord, in thy dear love
fit us for perfect rest above;
and help us, this and every day,
to live more nearly as we pray. Amen

John Keble, 1792-1866.

Keble also wrote another famous hymn, “Blest are the pure in heart”, likewise a wonderful model of simple but deep reflection leading to a beautiful prayer. Why not dust off that old hymn book and let it refresh you, and perhaps even pester your pastor to include it one Sunday morning?

Right? Wrong? Or neither?

“I have the right to do anything,” you say – but not everything is beneficial. “I have the right to do anything” – but not everything is constructive. No one should seek their own good, but the good of others…So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God… 1 Corinthians 10:23-24, 31-32

So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the person who doesn’t condemn himself by what he approves. Romans 14:23

Imagine, please, that you receive a wedding invitation from a long-standing friend called Dave. He is someone you have known and respected over many years. So naturally you are pleased to be invited; who wouldn’t want to be there on a friend’s very special day?

But as you read the invitation, you spot a problem: the person Dave is looking forward to marrying is called Mike. Ah!

Dave has always been open about being gay, and you have always been frank about your disagreement with this life-style. But he has never claimed to be a Christian, and you have therefore agreed to disagree, and have remained friends. You are aware of being honoured by the invitation, but your understanding of the Bible’s teaching – something he knows and respects – puts you in an awkward position. Very simply: should you accept the invitation?

If you decline, however graciously, you might seem to be snubbing a true friend; but you don’t feel comfortable about accepting and thereby seeming to condone something you sincerely feel is wrong.

So… what do you do?

I know some Christian friends who found themselves in pretty much this situation, facing pretty much this dilemma. I won’t tell you what they did – just that they found themselves in a quite agonising quandary, in spite of serious prayer. All I will say is that, whatever decision they made, I would have respected them.

There are times in life when we have to choose, not between right and wrong, but between two equally possible options: “grey areas”, they are sometimes called. As Christians we are called to be people of strong convictions, of course: there can be no budging on faith in Almighty God, or on the cardinal truths of the Gospel – Jesus crucified, risen again, and one day returning.

But there are situations, often very practical situations, when it simply isn’t quite so clear-cut; and in Paul’s first letter to the unruly and undisciplined Christians of Corinth, he tackles some of these head-on.

The Corinthian Christians take great delight in what might be called “Christian liberty” – the discovery that through simple faith in Jesus they are not bound by a big stack of petty rules and regulations, a long list of do’s and don’ts. No, loving, trusting and obeying Jesus is enough! – what a relief that offers from always feeling crushed by a failure to “measure up”!

The Corinthians even seem to have developed a little catch-phrase to sum it up: “All things are lawful”, or, as the NIV expands it a little: “I have the right to do anything”. Paul quotes it back at them, first in chapter 6 verse 12, and now again in chapter 10 verse 23.

In principle, Paul is in agreement – Yes, we are indeed set free in Christ. But in each case he adds a little slogan of his own, starting with that vital word “but”: “all things are lawful… but not everything is beneficial”. In other words, the fact that I am at liberty to do a particular thing doesn’t necessarily mean that I should do it. There are times to rein in your freedom rather than enjoy it.

Of course, the catch-phrase “All things are lawful”, even though Paul agrees with it, is not literally true anyway. Murder, for example, and adultery, are decidedly not lawful! One of the things that Paul is talking about in chapter 6 is sexual immorality – specifically, men having sex with prostitutes – and in this respect the very strictest laws apply.

But chapter 10 is very different; Paul is talking about matters of diet: should the Corinthian Christians worry that meat they buy in the open market might originally have been part of a sacrifice offered in a pagan temple? To which his answer is emphatic: No, of course not! Jesus has set us free from such quibbling questions!

The example I quoted at the beginning – should I attend the same-sex “marriage” of a friend? – is a modern-day example of this kind of dilemma. And there is no clear-cut, black-and-white answer: two equally committed Christians may arrive at different answers, and each should respect the other.

Behind the advice Paul is offering to the Corinthians is a fundamental principle: “No one should seek their own good, but the good of others” (1 Corinthians 10:24). He has in mind that my exercise of my liberty in Christ is all very fine – but what if it has the effect of “stumbling” the faith of a less robust, perhaps less mature, Christian? Not so fine, suggests verse 32… (And anyway, we mustn’t dismiss the possibility that the Christian I disagree with could actually be right, and me wrong, can we? A little humility is no bad thing…)

We “strong”, liberated Christians can be thoughtlessly, even arrogantly, sure of ourselves, can’t we? But, as Paul asks in Romans 14:4, “Who are we to judge someone else’s servant?” Who indeed?

Oh God, you are a holy God who calls us too to be pure and holy. But in matters both great and trivial day by day we find ourselves called on to make difficult decisions. Please grant me the wisdom of your Holy Spirit, neither to compromise your holiness, nor to stumble my fellow-believers. Amen.

Moods (2)

As the deer pants for streams of water,
    so my soul pants for you, my God.
² My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
    When can I go and meet with God?
³ My tears have been my food
    day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
    “Where is your God?”
⁴ These things I remember
    as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go to the house of God
    under the protection of the Mighty One
with shouts of joy and praise
    among the festive throng.

⁵ Why, my soul, are you downcast?
    Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
    for I will yet praise him,
    my Savior and my God.

Psalm 42:1-5

Last time we looked at Psalm 42, the psalm of someone who is in a very low mood, and I pointed out that such experiences are a normal part of life. Much depends on our circumstances – our health, our personal ups and downs, disappointments and encouragements, our family situation, even something as ordinary as the weather on any given day. A lot also depends on our natural temperament – some people are naturally bright and positive, others naturally tend towards gloominess. God understands this, and loves us just the same. What matters is how we handle our moods. As the saying goes, that’s life.

I also pointed out that the psalmist seems determined to avoid the sin of self-pity. Yes, he does feel abandoned by God, and has a faith robust enough, like Job, to take God to task for this; but he takes himself to task too: “Why, my soul, are you downcast…?” May God give us the faith always to steer well clear of “Poor me!” mode! There are times for giving ourselves a good talking to.

But there are other things which I didn’t have room for. Here are three, which I’ll put in the form of personal resolves…

First, let’s be determined to root out any possible sin.

I said that low moods are normal, and not necessarily a sign of sin. But that word “necessarily” is important; low moods may be a sign of sin. Every Christian is tempted by the devil, and there are times we fall to the temptation, and if/when that happens, let’s not imagine that we are going to carry on feeling bright and sunny – unless, sadly, we have developed hard hearts.

The word “sin” doesn’t cover just the gross failures reflected in, say, the ten commandments – no, times we give in to hidden selfishness, or pride, or lust, or greed, or spite, or anger, or jealousy are just as offensive to our holy God. And it’s a cast-iron rule of the Christian life that you can’t be both a disobedient Christian and a happy one at the same time: the two things cancel each other out. So we need to take ourselves in hand.

In 2 Corinthians 13:5 Paul tells his readers to “examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith”. That’s not something to do in a morbid, “I’m nothing but a worm”, frame of mind, but simply seeking light from God on anything in our lives that displeases him (and being genuinely willing to change, of course, if he does just that!). It’s no accident that Christians of an earlier generation used to warn about the danger of “backsliding”: how easy it is to drift! Is it time for a session of honest self-examination?

Jesus tells us to “be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:48); let’s take that seriously.

Second, let’s not be afraid to seek help.

I said last time that where low moods become fixed they may also become clinical, and outside help may be needed. If there is a trusted Christian therapist available, that’s good; but we should not dismiss the value of secular professional expertise, either in terms of medication or of “talking cures”.

But let’s not forget that we also have (I hope!) the gift of wise and loving Christian friends who we can talk to and who we can ask to pray for us. They may have been through similar mood-swings themselves, and if they have been Christians for many years they will have gathered stores of wisdom through experience and observation from which we can benefit.

Prayer is key. It’s easy to slip into cynicism: “What difference will that make?” This is very natural, because we rarely see quick or obvious answers to prayer; but the plain fact is that God tells us to pray, and to do so persistently. The only alternative to praying is… well, not praying – and who, reading the Bible, can contemplate such an alternative! True, there may be times we find praying for ourselves pretty well impossible; but that’s all the more reason to recruit the support of others. Isn’t that what friends are for? A problem shared is a problem halved, says worldly wisdom – and that’s even more true for the family of God.

This leads to…

Third, let’s learn patience.

Reading the Bible, we are often struck by the way God’s time scheme differs from ours. He is a God who is always looking to the future. We naturally want things to happen… now, andhaving to wait can be frustrating, and seem to make no sense. (Just browse through the psalms as a whole and notice the repeated cry, How long, O Lord, how long…?)

But, as a great old hymn says, God is working his purpose out, as year succeeds to year… It is often through the delays that we learn the most important lessons, to mature and equip us for the unknown future. God doesn’t play games with us for fun; anything he allows to happen to us is for a purpose we can trust.

I have recently been reading through the story of Joseph, Jacob’s son, in Genesis. If ever anybody might be entitled to be overwhelmed by low moods, it would surely be him. But the wonderful climax to his story is even more overwhelming, and fully bears out the words of that hymn. Joseph, having suffered terribly, and having been brought low from his youthful arrogance, is able to assure his guilty, ashamed brothers that “God meant it for good…” (Genesis 50:20).

So it will be for all who maintain their trust in God. The same Jesus who died in agony and ignominy rose again in glory.

And so, one day, will we.

Father, I often feel so feeble and helpless as I am tossed up and down by the unpredictability of my moods. Please help me to cling hard to you in faith and obedience, making use of the kindness of my Christian brothers and sisters, until I come to that day when I can look back and see how it all fitted together. Amen.

A perfect church?

But I think it is necessary to send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, co-worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs. ²⁶ For he longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill. ²⁷ Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow. ²⁸ Therefore I am all the more eager to send him, so that when you see him again you may be glad and I may have less anxiety. ²⁹ So then, welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honour people like him, ³⁰ because he almost died for the work of Christ. He risked his life to make up for the help you yourselves could not give me. Philippians 2:25-30

Do you ever think how good it must have been to be part of the early, New Testament church? The buzz! The excitement! The sense of being a wonderful new family, filled with love for Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit! The vibrant preaching! The dramatic answers to prayer! How dull – what a struggle – life in today’s church can seem by comparison.

All right, perhaps the church you belong to isn’t dull or a struggle at all; but for many it is. So it’s tempting to read the New Testament and feel a little wistful: “If only…!”

If ever we do feel this way, it’s time to pause and take what, in modern parlance, is called a reality check. The fact is that the early church was in many respects pretty much like many modern churches, both for good and for ill (just read, for example, the “seven letters to the churches” in Revelation 2-3). This is nowhere better illustrated than in Paul’s glowing little letter to the Christians of Philippi, written while he was in prison for Jesus’ sake.

Philippians oozes faith and love – it obviously warmed Paul’s heart just to think about the church there. We can read about what brought it into being by turning to Acts 16. But it didn’t have an easy birth; it started with Paul and his travelling companion Silas dumped in the local prison with their feet in the stocks. And now, probably some six or seven years later, Paul finds himself in prison again, very likely in Ephesus.

He has a particular reason for writing to them: to thank them for helping to “take care of my needs” (2:25) and to “share in my troubles” (Philippians 4:14) by sending him a gift, presumably of money. How did this gift reach him? – through the willing, sacrificial generosity of a man called Epaphroditus, about whom we know absolutely nothing beyond what Paul tells us in this letter. But Epaphroditus is a perfect illustration of both the joys and sorrows of those early churches. We can get to know him a little by asking a few questions…

First, what kind of man was he?

Answer: Paul describes him as “my brother, co-worker and fellow-soldier” (2:25). There’s no way of knowing how well Paul knew him personally, but that description is high praise indeed; he was no nodding acquaintance. Paul knew him well enough to value him highly.

I hope we all have people in our lives like Epaphroditus – people we can rely on and share our joys and sorrows with; solid, reliable people. My experience suggests to me that even small and struggling churches have at least a handful of such people (and they may, of course, be female as well as male). If we read through Paul’s life in Acts, plus also his letters, we find that his life was well populated with such people; Epaphroditus was by no means the only one.

That, of course, prompts another challenging question: do my fellow-Christians see me as an Epaphroditus?

Second, why in particular is Paul grateful to God for Epaphroditus?

Answer: as we saw a moment ago, he is the person who has served as the Philippian Christians’ courier to carry their gift to Paul in prison (4:18 again), where the gift is described as “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God”. That puts a different light on “brother, co-worker and fellow-soldier” – Epaphroditus, no doubt precisely because of his rock-solid reliability, was the messenger-boy, the man the church in Philippi entrusted this heavy responsibility to.

In our modern world I don’t suppose prison food is anything very special. But in the days of the Roman empire it was probably completely non-existent; prisoners would have had to rely on well-wishers from outside. And this is the role Epaphroditus took on.

A glance at a map indicates that the distance from Philippi to Ephesus (assuming that that is indeed where Paul was during this imprisonment) is some three hundred miles as the crow flies. It could be done by either land or sea or a combination of the two; but whatever, it would have been an arduous and demanding journey, no easy matter for a man who no doubt had other duties to attend to, not to mention perhaps a family at home. “Brothers” and “sisters” like that are, surely, precious as gold!

Third, what in particular happened to Epaphroditus that caused anxiety to Paul?

Answer: he got sick “and almost died”. If we re-read the whole of 2:25-30 we find that for a time Paul was seriously anxious on his behalf, and apparently the members of the Philippi church were likewise very upset when the news reached them.

I can’t help smiling when we read that he, Epaphroditus, was “distressed” because he had heard that his fellow-church members were anxious about him. Isn’t that so typically human – and common, surely, to every age and generation? – he was distressed because they were distressed on his behalf.

I’m sure they were confident of Christianity’s eternal hope. But neither Paul nor the Philippian church were starry-eyed about “going to heaven” – they well knew the pain and sorrow of death, and weren’t ashamed to express it. (It’s worth reflecting that the same Paul who wrote 1:21 could also write 2:27.)

Well, Epaphroditus did eventually recover, and no doubt everyone breathed a big sigh of relief. It seems that those early churches weren’t so very different from ours after all! Perhaps this can prompt us to pray…

Loving Father, thank you for all the various Epaphrodituses who have blessed my life over the years. I find it hard to imagine how I would have got on without them. Please help me, in my turn, to be an Epaphroditus to others. Amen.

The parable of the green tree

As the soldiers led Jesus away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ Then “they will say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’ For if people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?” Luke 23:26-31

I wonder how often we have read these grim words from Luke’s Gospel – words of Jesus – and wondered exactly what he meant by that final question? What’s this about trees?

The context (as always) is important. Jesus is being led away to crucifixion and large crowds are lining the route, including many women, weeping and wailing. Jesus rebukes them (though with compassion): “It’s not me you should we weeping for; it’s yourselves and your children. The days ahead are days when it would be better never to have had children…”

Then he quotes from the Old Testament prophet Hosea (chapter 10, verse 8). Hosea lived at a time when God’s people Israel had lapsed into idolatry and so, in effect, had invited God’s wrath to fall on them. Those days will be so horrific that people will plead for the very mountains to fall on them; it will be better to die than to live.

So far, so clear. But then Jesus adds another saying which is not a quote from the Old Testament: “If people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

Not a quote from the Old Testament? Certainly, there seems to be an echo of Ezekiel 20:45-48. But more likely it is a proverbial saying that has been passed down the generations. Various interpretations have been suggested, but the simplest and most natural seems best: “If this is how the brutal Romans are prepared to treat one innocent man, how much worse will it be in the days to come? The killing of one man, wicked though it is, is nothing compared with the ruining of a whole city, including its beautiful temple. Green wood – and that’s what we are at the moment – doesn’t burn well, but once it has dried it goes up in flames in no time at all.”

In a nutshell, Jesus’ cryptic saying seems simply to be the equivalent of the modern catchphrase “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” – but in a bad rather than a good sense.

Two thoughts occur to me…

First, his words remind us that he never promised that the outworking of God’s purposes would be easy: anything but. The kingdom of God has broken in, and we are all invited to be part of it, but as we enlist, so to speak, we must be under no illusions. His call involves “taking up your cross to follow me” (Matthew 16:24), and those were no empty words; he made it clear that when we make that great decision we must “count the cost” (Matthew 15:25-33).

How easy it is to make promises of those kinds in the first flush of zeal, especially if we came to Christ when still young, when many youthful enthusiasms – sporting, political, career-wise, hobby-wise, religious – are born! Experience teaches many things, and easily takes its toll. And so it is with the fire of faith: it can very easily begin to burn low – no wonder Paul urges the Christians of Thessalonica (1 Thessalonians 5:19) not to “quench (that is, stub out) the Spirit”.

I wonder if this is a reality some of us need to face up to? Is it time to have a fresh “getting-to-grips-with-God-again” session? If so, a time of reflection on the disturbing letter of Jesus to the church in Laodicea (Revelation 3:14-22) might be in order. “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear…”!

Second, it’s worth reflecting that, if Jesus’ words about the green and dry tree are indeed a time-honoured proverbial saying – if that is so, it’s striking that he should be prepared to make them part of his own teaching. We are familiar with his many quotations from the Old Testament, the Hebrew scriptures, of course, for he saw himself as the fulfilment of those scriptures; but a reference like this somehow “earths” him as a man of his own time, and a man of a particular nation and race with its traditions and culture.

This has something to say to us about the Bible as a whole, the writings the Christian church has always honoured as the written word of God.

It emerged over many hundreds of years and was composed, humanly speaking, by a wide range of writers. This means that, to our eyes, it can seem a rambling, even messy, book. It doesn’t always yield its meaning to us easily, but requires study and, in many respects, the help of experts, linguists and historians as well as theologians. Why else do we expect trainee ministers to undergo serious study? Why else do we look to people who know more than we do to write books and give lectures? The Bible is an inspired book, yes – but it is not a magic book.

I find it reassuring that Jesus was prepared to take a piece of home-spun everyday wisdom from the world around him and weave it into his own teaching side by side with a chunk of sacred Old Testament scripture. It helps me to see not only Jesus but also the Bible itself with fresh eyes – inspired by the Holy Spirit, yes, but also a very human, earthy book. There is much to be gained by recognising its human authorship as well as its divine inspiration. Something to think about?

Lord Jesus, we worship you as God in the flesh. Just as we see you as both divine and human, may we also see your written word, the Bible, as both written by human beings but also inspired by the Holy Spirit. Amen.