Tomorrow’s Sermon: Healthy Communities, Toxic Communities

John
10:1-21
[1]

Introduction
I have in my congregation at Broomfield a man who is a Freeman of the Borough
of Chelmsford. He thoroughly deserves it, as for decades he has gone out in
rain and snow to collect for worthy local causes.

I don’t know what rights were conferred upon him with the
honour, but it is well known that if you receive the freedom of other towns or
cities, you are entitled to drive your herds or flocks without hindrance across
bridges.

However, although I drive past one or two farms on my way
here, I’ve never noticed anyone expecting to conduct their sheep without let or
hindrance along the A130. And even what farmland we have near here will be
under threat as the housing expansions near Broomfield, Beaulieu Park and
Boreham are built.

All of which means that we are further isolated from
biblical metaphors about shepherds and sheep, making it difficult to enter the
world from which Jesus spoke. Even our culture’s approach to herding sheep is
different: we drive from behind and use a sheepdog, Palestinian shepherds lead
from the front.

And not only that, Jesus mixes his metaphors! One moment he’s
the gate to the sheepfold, the next he’s the shepherd.

So without spending too much time discussing ancient farming
methods, how can we connect with John 10? At the very least, we can set it in
context and look for the points Jesus is trying to make.

Why should we explore it, though? That’s where context comes
in. To state the obvious, John 10 comes straight after John 9. In chapter 9,
Jesus has healed a man born blind. To the disgust of the religious leadership,
he has done it on the Sabbath. For that terrible act, Jesus has been condemned
and the healed man has been excommunicated. For Jesus, this raises the issue
about proper leadership of God’s people. That’s what John 10 is about: what
kind of leadership is healthy, and what is toxic?

And it applies not only to the leaders, it applies to the
whole Christian community. What is a healthy Christian fellowship, and what is
an abusive one? Some of us have known in other places what it means to be in a
damaging church, and have wanted to escape. It’s all very well putting some
distance between ourselves and an unhealthy congregation or leader, but
sometime we need to be part of a life-giving community. I believe John 10 helps
us in the discerning process. And even if we haven’t had that painful history,
it is still important to give ourselves a health check. So what does John 10
say to us about healthy churches and leaders?

1. Life
In verse 10 Jesus says,

‘The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have
come that they may have life, and have it to the full.’

Many years ago, the house church leader Gerald Coates
once said that we have so re-ordered the church that we have replaced Jesus’
words that he came that we might have life and have it more abundantly with the
idea that he came that we might have meetings and have them more abundantly!

There is a choice, says Jesus, between the kind of community
that gives life and the kind that destroys. Life versus death. We talk of the
Gospel, the Good News. If Jesus came to bring life, then the Good News needs to
look, sound and feel like Good News. The American Christian writer Philip Yancey recently told the Church Times,

If it doesn’t sound like good news, it’s not the gospel. If
it’s not setting you free and enlarging life, then it’s not Jesus’s message.

There is a sense in which the Gospel proclamation starts not
with Good News, but bad news – the bad news that we all are sinners, and that
our sinfulness cuts us off from God. But the poisonous church or leader dwells
mostly on sin and making people feel bad or worthless. You come away from their
company feeling you are a miserable and worthless worm. Worse than that, the leader
and the congregation manage to come over as effortlessly superior to mere
mortals like you or me.

The healthy church or leader is different. The bad news isn’t
absent. They are clear about the seriousness of sin and judgment, because it’s false
good news to couch the message in terms of ‘I’m OK, you’re OK.’ We’re not OK,
and the healthy church knows this. But the people of the healthy church also know
that God is rich in mercy and generous with grace. God’s grace is more
plentiful than human sin. The healthy church is therefore a safe place for the
wounded. To quote Philip Yancey again from that Church Times interview:

If you had asked what I’d like my influence to be, I’d answer
that I would like to give companionship to those who doubt, sympathy to those
who suffer, and grace to those who have felt little of it from the Church.

If we are a healthy church, then wounded people will find
life and love here. We will find healing for our own wounds. We will know pain,
but will not be miserable wretches. We will have strong commitments to certain
ethical standards, but even the actions we refuse to do will not be a dour,
black-suited ‘Thou shalt not’, but a grateful recognition that God knows best
for us.

No, there will be a joie
de vivre
about us. We will even laugh. As Oswald Chambers, who wrote the
devotional classic ‘My
Utmost for his Highest
’, said,

When God makes you holy He gives you a sense of humour.[2]

2. Sacrifice
As some of you know, I suffered a (then) mysterious neck injury when I was
eighteen. I remember sitting one night at a renewal meeting. I was in such pain
that I looked for the most comfortable chair in the room. I felt a long way
from God and his purposes. An elderly, kind Baptist woman called Peggy read
words from John 10 to me that evening. I remember the ‘good shepherd’ material,
and had to ask the biblical reference.

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life
for the sheep. (Verse 11)

It meant a lot to me that evening to know that Jesus was a
good shepherd. Now, as I read those words, I recognise that the particular way
in which I know him to be a good shepherd is in sacrifice – in his willingness
to lay down his life.

How do we know the love of the Good Shepherd? By his
sacrifice. And the approach to sacrifice tells us a lot about which communities
and Christian leaders are healthy, whole and spiritual, and which ones are
snakes filled with deadly venom.

The difference is this: the healthy churches are willing to
sacrifice, but the poisonous ones will not. They are the ‘hired hand[s] [who]
care nothing for the sheep’ (verse 13). They, on the other hand, will demand
sacrifice of others. This, then, is how Jesus regarded the religious
establishment of his day.

About eight years ago, I watched a television documentary
about healing evangelists. It followed two of them. There was a bit of a slant
against them from the outset, but one came over as well-intentioned if
misguided but largely harmless. The second, however, was portrayed negatively,
and I believe rightly so. When one poor family brought a terribly sick child to
him for healing and the child was not cured, the evangelist told them the child
had not recovered because they did not have enough faith, and they should give
a further donation of a thousand dollars to his ministry. Did the child become
well? What do you think? The same evangelist flies the world in Lear Jets and
employs bodyguards. I’m not surprised he needs the bodyguards.

That may seem an obvious and easy example, and it is far
from most of our experiences. However, we need to guard against those
tendencies we might have to expect everyone else in the church to make the
sacrifices while we continue jogging along, just the same as we always have
done.

But let’s not only be negative here: what does a healthy
church look like in this respect? One gladly spends and gives up for others. It
is one where people barely have to be prompted to look out for their neighbours’
needs. I often think of an incident at my
first theological college
. One of the international students, a Singaporean
woman, suddenly and unexpectedly lost her mother back home. She did not have
the airfare to go home. But the student community soon raised it – students on
very limited incomes made sure Christina got home to her family. No-one had to
tell the student body to do this, it happened almost instantly and
spontaneously. It was a case of Acts 2, where the disciples sold their
possessions to meet the needs of the poor.

3. Embrace
One other statement to explore, and it occurs in the middle of all the verses
about the Good Shepherd’s willingness to lay down his life for the flock. It raises
the question about how broad the flock is:

I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must
bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock
and one shepherd. (Verse 16)

The sacrifice, then, is not simply something that
characterises the existing community: it is something that expands it. Christians recognise this as being to do with the Cross
as the way into the kingdom of God.

Therefore, the healthy church or Christian leader will have
a passion for those who have not yet experienced the love of God in Christ. They
will not be content to stay as a private religious club: that is a crude
distortion of their fundamental purpose.

No, healthy Christians and communities will be committed to
outreach, including to people much unlike themselves. Nor will it be because we
need to raise more offertory to keep the building going, or to fill vacant
church jobs: both of those reasons suggest we do not love the people we are
trying to reach, but are only trying to manipulate them for our sake. And manipulation
and self-centredness are at the heart of toxic faith, not life-filled faith.

Healthy disciples and leaders will know that outreach,
embracing others with the love of God, is fundamental to the life of the
church. The theologian Emil
Brunner
famously said that ‘The church exists by mission as fire exists by
burning’. This doesn’t mean merely that we need mission in order to keep the
numbers up. It means that mission is at the heart of what it means to be
church. The Resurrection stories have mission as central themes. In Matthew,
the risen Jesus gives the Great Commission to make disciples. In Luke, he tells
the disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit and then they will be his witnesses. In
John, Jesus sends his followers in the way the Father sent him.

There is no mistaking it. Mission is not for the
enthusiasts. It is not the deluxe optional extra. It is the overflow of hearts
bursting with God’s love. Filled with the life given by the Good Shepherd and
imitating his sacrificial love, it is a travesty to keep Good News to
ourselves.

Thus, shepherds cannot spend their entire time with the
existing pen, working only to meet their needs. True shepherds look to expand
the pen, and the flock welcomes this. It is healthy church life not to obsess
about ourselves, but to prioritise showing the love of God in word and deed in
the wider community. When our business meeting agenda are consumed only with
internal matters, something is out of balance. But when our priorities are
based on the embrace of those not yet in the fold, then the life and sacrifice
of the Good Shepherd have soaked into us, and we cannot be the same.


[1] Using
the TNIV at Bible Gateway again, as Oremus played up once more.

[2]
David W Lambert, Oswald
Chambers: An Unbribed Soul
, p 7f.

Technorati Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Tomorrow’s Sermon: Healthy Communities, Toxic Communities

John
10:1-21
[1]

Introduction
I have in my congregation at Broomfield a man who is a Freeman of the Borough
of Chelmsford. He thoroughly deserves it, as for decades he has gone out in
rain and snow to collect for worthy local causes.

I don’t know what rights were conferred upon him with the
honour, but it is well known that if you receive the freedom of other towns or
cities, you are entitled to drive your herds or flocks without hindrance across
bridges.

However, although I drive past one or two farms on my way
here, I’ve never noticed anyone expecting to conduct their sheep without let or
hindrance along the A130. And even what farmland we have near here will be
under threat as the housing expansions near Broomfield, Beaulieu Park and
Boreham are built.

All of which means that we are further isolated from
biblical metaphors about shepherds and sheep, making it difficult to enter the
world from which Jesus spoke. Even our culture’s approach to herding sheep is
different: we drive from behind and use a sheepdog, Palestinian shepherds lead
from the front.

And not only that, Jesus mixes his metaphors! One moment he’s
the gate to the sheepfold, the next he’s the shepherd.

So without spending too much time discussing ancient farming
methods, how can we connect with John 10? At the very least, we can set it in
context and look for the points Jesus is trying to make.

Why should we explore it, though? That’s where context comes
in. To state the obvious, John 10 comes straight after John 9. In chapter 9,
Jesus has healed a man born blind. To the disgust of the religious leadership,
he has done it on the Sabbath. For that terrible act, Jesus has been condemned
and the healed man has been excommunicated. For Jesus, this raises the issue
about proper leadership of God’s people. That’s what John 10 is about: what
kind of leadership is healthy, and what is toxic?

And it applies not only to the leaders, it applies to the
whole Christian community. What is a healthy Christian fellowship, and what is
an abusive one? Some of us have known in other places what it means to be in a
damaging church, and have wanted to escape. It’s all very well putting some
distance between ourselves and an unhealthy congregation or leader, but
sometime we need to be part of a life-giving community. I believe John 10 helps
us in the discerning process. And even if we haven’t had that painful history,
it is still important to give ourselves a health check. So what does John 10
say to us about healthy churches and leaders?

1. Life
In verse 10 Jesus says,

‘The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have
come that they may have life, and have it to the full.’

Many years ago, the house church leader Gerald Coates
once said that we have so re-ordered the church that we have replaced Jesus’
words that he came that we might have life and have it more abundantly with the
idea that he came that we might have meetings and have them more abundantly!

There is a choice, says Jesus, between the kind of community
that gives life and the kind that destroys. Life versus death. We talk of the
Gospel, the Good News. If Jesus came to bring life, then the Good News needs to
look, sound and feel like Good News. The American Christian writer Philip Yancey recently told the Church Times,

If it doesn’t sound like good news, it’s not the gospel. If
it’s not setting you free and enlarging life, then it’s not Jesus’s message.

There is a sense in which the Gospel proclamation starts not
with Good News, but bad news – the bad news that we all are sinners, and that
our sinfulness cuts us off from God. But the poisonous church or leader dwells
mostly on sin and making people feel bad or worthless. You come away from their
company feeling you are a miserable and worthless worm. Worse than that, the leader
and the congregation manage to come over as effortlessly superior to mere
mortals like you or me.

The healthy church or leader is different. The bad news isn’t
absent. They are clear about the seriousness of sin and judgment, because it’s false
good news to couch the message in terms of ‘I’m OK, you’re OK.’ We’re not OK,
and the healthy church knows this. But the people of the healthy church also know
that God is rich in mercy and generous with grace. God’s grace is more
plentiful than human sin. The healthy church is therefore a safe place for the
wounded. To quote Philip Yancey again from that Church Times interview:

If you had asked what I’d like my influence to be, I’d answer
that I would like to give companionship to those who doubt, sympathy to those
who suffer, and grace to those who have felt little of it from the Church.

If we are a healthy church, then wounded people will find
life and love here. We will find healing for our own wounds. We will know pain,
but will not be miserable wretches. We will have strong commitments to certain
ethical standards, but even the actions we refuse to do will not be a dour,
black-suited ‘Thou shalt not’, but a grateful recognition that God knows best
for us.

No, there will be a joie
de vivre
about us. We will even laugh. As Oswald Chambers, who wrote the
devotional classic ‘My
Utmost for his Highest
’, said,

When God makes you holy He gives you a sense of humour.[2]

2. Sacrifice
As some of you know, I suffered a (then) mysterious neck injury when I was
eighteen. I remember sitting one night at a renewal meeting. I was in such pain
that I looked for the most comfortable chair in the room. I felt a long way
from God and his purposes. An elderly, kind Baptist woman called Peggy read
words from John 10 to me that evening. I remember the ‘good shepherd’ material,
and had to ask the biblical reference.

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life
for the sheep. (Verse 11)

It meant a lot to me that evening to know that Jesus was a
good shepherd. Now, as I read those words, I recognise that the particular way
in which I know him to be a good shepherd is in sacrifice – in his willingness
to lay down his life.

How do we know the love of the Good Shepherd? By his
sacrifice. And the approach to sacrifice tells us a lot about which communities
and Christian leaders are healthy, whole and spiritual, and which ones are
snakes filled with deadly venom.

The difference is this: the healthy churches are willing to
sacrifice, but the poisonous ones will not. They are the ‘hired hand[s] [who]
care nothing for the sheep’ (verse 13). They, on the other hand, will demand
sacrifice of others. This, then, is how Jesus regarded the religious
establishment of his day.

About eight years ago, I watched a television documentary
about healing evangelists. It followed two of them. There was a bit of a slant
against them from the outset, but one came over as well-intentioned if
misguided but largely harmless. The second, however, was portrayed negatively,
and I believe rightly so. When one poor family brought a terribly sick child to
him for healing and the child was not cured, the evangelist told them the child
had not recovered because they did not have enough faith, and they should give
a further donation of a thousand dollars to his ministry. Did the child become
well? What do you think? The same evangelist flies the world in Lear Jets and
employs bodyguards. I’m not surprised he needs the bodyguards.

That may seem an obvious and easy example, and it is far
from most of our experiences. However, we need to guard against those
tendencies we might have to expect everyone else in the church to make the
sacrifices while we continue jogging along, just the same as we always have
done.

But let’s not only be negative here: what does a healthy
church look like in this respect? One gladly spends and gives up for others. It
is one where people barely have to be prompted to look out for their neighbours’
needs. I often think of an incident at my
first theological college
. One of the international students, a Singaporean
woman, suddenly and unexpectedly lost her mother back home. She did not have
the airfare to go home. But the student community soon raised it – students on
very limited incomes made sure Christina got home to her family. No-one had to
tell the student body to do this, it happened almost instantly and
spontaneously. It was a case of Acts 2, where the disciples sold their
possessions to meet the needs of the poor.

3. Embrace
One other statement to explore, and it occurs in the middle of all the verses
about the Good Shepherd’s willingness to lay down his life for the flock. It raises
the question about how broad the flock is:

I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must
bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock
and one shepherd. (Verse 16)

The sacrifice, then, is not simply something that
characterises the existing community: it is something that expands it. Christians recognise this as being to do with the Cross
as the way into the kingdom of God.

Therefore, the healthy church or Christian leader will have
a passion for those who have not yet experienced the love of God in Christ. They
will not be content to stay as a private religious club: that is a crude
distortion of their fundamental purpose.

No, healthy Christians and communities will be committed to
outreach, including to people much unlike themselves. Nor will it be because we
need to raise more offertory to keep the building going, or to fill vacant
church jobs: both of those reasons suggest we do not love the people we are
trying to reach, but are only trying to manipulate them for our sake. And manipulation
and self-centredness are at the heart of toxic faith, not life-filled faith.

Healthy disciples and leaders will know that outreach,
embracing others with the love of God, is fundamental to the life of the
church. The theologian Emil
Brunner
famously said that ‘The church exists by mission as fire exists by
burning’. This doesn’t mean merely that we need mission in order to keep the
numbers up. It means that mission is at the heart of what it means to be
church. The Resurrection stories have mission as central themes. In Matthew,
the risen Jesus gives the Great Commission to make disciples. In Luke, he tells
the disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit and then they will be his witnesses. In
John, Jesus sends his followers in the way the Father sent him.

There is no mistaking it. Mission is not for the
enthusiasts. It is not the deluxe optional extra. It is the overflow of hearts
bursting with God’s love. Filled with the life given by the Good Shepherd and
imitating his sacrificial love, it is a travesty to keep Good News to
ourselves.

Thus, shepherds cannot spend their entire time with the
existing pen, working only to meet their needs. True shepherds look to expand
the pen, and the flock welcomes this. It is healthy church life not to obsess
about ourselves, but to prioritise showing the love of God in word and deed in
the wider community. When our business meeting agenda are consumed only with
internal matters, something is out of balance. But when our priorities are
based on the embrace of those not yet in the fold, then the life and sacrifice
of the Good Shepherd have soaked into us, and we cannot be the same.


[1] Using
the TNIV at Bible Gateway again, as Oremus played up once more.

[2]
David W Lambert, Oswald
Chambers: An Unbribed Soul
, p 7f.

Technorati Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Tomorrow’s Sermon: Healthy Communities, Toxic Communities

John
10:1-21
[1]

Introduction
I have in my congregation at Broomfield a man who is a Freeman of the Borough
of Chelmsford. He thoroughly deserves it, as for decades he has gone out in
rain and snow to collect for worthy local causes.

I don’t know what rights were conferred upon him with the
honour, but it is well known that if you receive the freedom of other towns or
cities, you are entitled to drive your herds or flocks without hindrance across
bridges.

However, although I drive past one or two farms on my way
here, I’ve never noticed anyone expecting to conduct their sheep without let or
hindrance along the A130. And even what farmland we have near here will be
under threat as the housing expansions near Broomfield, Beaulieu Park and
Boreham are built.

All of which means that we are further isolated from
biblical metaphors about shepherds and sheep, making it difficult to enter the
world from which Jesus spoke. Even our culture’s approach to herding sheep is
different: we drive from behind and use a sheepdog, Palestinian shepherds lead
from the front.

And not only that, Jesus mixes his metaphors! One moment he’s
the gate to the sheepfold, the next he’s the shepherd.

So without spending too much time discussing ancient farming
methods, how can we connect with John 10? At the very least, we can set it in
context and look for the points Jesus is trying to make.

Why should we explore it, though? That’s where context comes
in. To state the obvious, John 10 comes straight after John 9. In chapter 9,
Jesus has healed a man born blind. To the disgust of the religious leadership,
he has done it on the Sabbath. For that terrible act, Jesus has been condemned
and the healed man has been excommunicated. For Jesus, this raises the issue
about proper leadership of God’s people. That’s what John 10 is about: what
kind of leadership is healthy, and what is toxic?

And it applies not only to the leaders, it applies to the
whole Christian community. What is a healthy Christian fellowship, and what is
an abusive one? Some of us have known in other places what it means to be in a
damaging church, and have wanted to escape. It’s all very well putting some
distance between ourselves and an unhealthy congregation or leader, but
sometime we need to be part of a life-giving community. I believe John 10 helps
us in the discerning process. And even if we haven’t had that painful history,
it is still important to give ourselves a health check. So what does John 10
say to us about healthy churches and leaders?

1. Life
In verse 10 Jesus says,

‘The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have
come that they may have life, and have it to the full.’

Many years ago, the house church leader Gerald Coates
once said that we have so re-ordered the church that we have replaced Jesus’
words that he came that we might have life and have it more abundantly with the
idea that he came that we might have meetings and have them more abundantly!

There is a choice, says Jesus, between the kind of community
that gives life and the kind that destroys. Life versus death. We talk of the
Gospel, the Good News. If Jesus came to bring life, then the Good News needs to
look, sound and feel like Good News. The American Christian writer Philip Yancey recently told the Church Times,

If it doesn’t sound like good news, it’s not the gospel. If
it’s not setting you free and enlarging life, then it’s not Jesus’s message.

There is a sense in which the Gospel proclamation starts not
with Good News, but bad news – the bad news that we all are sinners, and that
our sinfulness cuts us off from God. But the poisonous church or leader dwells
mostly on sin and making people feel bad or worthless. You come away from their
company feeling you are a miserable and worthless worm. Worse than that, the leader
and the congregation manage to come over as effortlessly superior to mere
mortals like you or me.

The healthy church or leader is different. The bad news isn’t
absent. They are clear about the seriousness of sin and judgment, because it’s false
good news to couch the message in terms of ‘I’m OK, you’re OK.’ We’re not OK,
and the healthy church knows this. But the people of the healthy church also know
that God is rich in mercy and generous with grace. God’s grace is more
plentiful than human sin. The healthy church is therefore a safe place for the
wounded. To quote Philip Yancey again from that Church Times interview:

If you had asked what I’d like my influence to be, I’d answer
that I would like to give companionship to those who doubt, sympathy to those
who suffer, and grace to those who have felt little of it from the Church.

If we are a healthy church, then wounded people will find
life and love here. We will find healing for our own wounds. We will know pain,
but will not be miserable wretches. We will have strong commitments to certain
ethical standards, but even the actions we refuse to do will not be a dour,
black-suited ‘Thou shalt not’, but a grateful recognition that God knows best
for us.

No, there will be a joie
de vivre
about us. We will even laugh. As Oswald Chambers, who wrote the
devotional classic ‘My
Utmost for his Highest
’, said,

When God makes you holy He gives you a sense of humour.[2]

2. Sacrifice
As some of you know, I suffered a (then) mysterious neck injury when I was
eighteen. I remember sitting one night at a renewal meeting. I was in such pain
that I looked for the most comfortable chair in the room. I felt a long way
from God and his purposes. An elderly, kind Baptist woman called Peggy read
words from John 10 to me that evening. I remember the ‘good shepherd’ material,
and had to ask the biblical reference.

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life
for the sheep. (Verse 11)

It meant a lot to me that evening to know that Jesus was a
good shepherd. Now, as I read those words, I recognise that the particular way
in which I know him to be a good shepherd is in sacrifice – in his willingness
to lay down his life.

How do we know the love of the Good Shepherd? By his
sacrifice. And the approach to sacrifice tells us a lot about which communities
and Christian leaders are healthy, whole and spiritual, and which ones are
snakes filled with deadly venom.

The difference is this: the healthy churches are willing to
sacrifice, but the poisonous ones will not. They are the ‘hired hand[s] [who]
care nothing for the sheep’ (verse 13). They, on the other hand, will demand
sacrifice of others. This, then, is how Jesus regarded the religious
establishment of his day.

About eight years ago, I watched a television documentary
about healing evangelists. It followed two of them. There was a bit of a slant
against them from the outset, but one came over as well-intentioned if
misguided but largely harmless. The second, however, was portrayed negatively,
and I believe rightly so. When one poor family brought a terribly sick child to
him for healing and the child was not cured, the evangelist told them the child
had not recovered because they did not have enough faith, and they should give
a further donation of a thousand dollars to his ministry. Did the child become
well? What do you think? The same evangelist flies the world in Lear Jets and
employs bodyguards. I’m not surprised he needs the bodyguards.

That may seem an obvious and easy example, and it is far
from most of our experiences. However, we need to guard against those
tendencies we might have to expect everyone else in the church to make the
sacrifices while we continue jogging along, just the same as we always have
done.

But let’s not only be negative here: what does a healthy
church look like in this respect? One gladly spends and gives up for others. It
is one where people barely have to be prompted to look out for their neighbours’
needs. I often think of an incident at my
first theological college
. One of the international students, a Singaporean
woman, suddenly and unexpectedly lost her mother back home. She did not have
the airfare to go home. But the student community soon raised it – students on
very limited incomes made sure Christina got home to her family. No-one had to
tell the student body to do this, it happened almost instantly and
spontaneously. It was a case of Acts 2, where the disciples sold their
possessions to meet the needs of the poor.

3. Embrace
One other statement to explore, and it occurs in the middle of all the verses
about the Good Shepherd’s willingness to lay down his life for the flock. It raises
the question about how broad the flock is:

I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must
bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock
and one shepherd. (Verse 16)

The sacrifice, then, is not simply something that
characterises the existing community: it is something that expands it. Christians recognise this as being to do with the Cross
as the way into the kingdom of God.

Therefore, the healthy church or Christian leader will have
a passion for those who have not yet experienced the love of God in Christ. They
will not be content to stay as a private religious club: that is a crude
distortion of their fundamental purpose.

No, healthy Christians and communities will be committed to
outreach, including to people much unlike themselves. Nor will it be because we
need to raise more offertory to keep the building going, or to fill vacant
church jobs: both of those reasons suggest we do not love the people we are
trying to reach, but are only trying to manipulate them for our sake. And manipulation
and self-centredness are at the heart of toxic faith, not life-filled faith.

Healthy disciples and leaders will know that outreach,
embracing others with the love of God, is fundamental to the life of the
church. The theologian Emil
Brunner
famously said that ‘The church exists by mission as fire exists by
burning’. This doesn’t mean merely that we need mission in order to keep the
numbers up. It means that mission is at the heart of what it means to be
church. The Resurrection stories have mission as central themes. In Matthew,
the risen Jesus gives the Great Commission to make disciples. In Luke, he tells
the disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit and then they will be his witnesses. In
John, Jesus sends his followers in the way the Father sent him.

There is no mistaking it. Mission is not for the
enthusiasts. It is not the deluxe optional extra. It is the overflow of hearts
bursting with God’s love. Filled with the life given by the Good Shepherd and
imitating his sacrificial love, it is a travesty to keep Good News to
ourselves.

Thus, shepherds cannot spend their entire time with the
existing pen, working only to meet their needs. True shepherds look to expand
the pen, and the flock welcomes this. It is healthy church life not to obsess
about ourselves, but to prioritise showing the love of God in word and deed in
the wider community. When our business meeting agenda are consumed only with
internal matters, something is out of balance. But when our priorities are
based on the embrace of those not yet in the fold, then the life and sacrifice
of the Good Shepherd have soaked into us, and we cannot be the same.


[1] Using
the TNIV at Bible Gateway again, as Oremus played up once more.

[2]
David W Lambert, Oswald
Chambers: An Unbribed Soul
, p 7f.

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Thirty-Two Years

Thirty-two years ago, I sat in a minister’s study. It was Maundy Thursday, and the last session of a church membership (‘confirmation’) class. We studied the promises and professions of faith that candidates for membership had to make. First came repentance. Second came faith in Christ. Only after that, and third, came obeying Christ in the world. It was the moment the penny dropped. I found Christ. I discovered that Christianity wasn’t the mathematical sum of believing in God plus being good.

It’s now two thirds of my life away. I thank God every 9th April.

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Justice? Vengeance?

On 11th March, I recounted the story of a woman’s dreadful behaviour at a funeral. She ignored notices to move her car when picking up her son from the playgroup that uses the church hall, and got blocked in by the hearse. She then tried to have a row with me when I was about to lead the coffin into church. (Click the link for more detail.)

Yesterday, we gathered to bury the ashes of the much-loved mother and grandmother. I learned a twist to the story. Our church car park is at the front of the church. You turn into it immediately off the main road. When the woman finally roared off from the church, she failed to remember that the lowered pavement for the car park is off centre. As a result, she went over a large kerb, and damaged the underside of her car.

When we learned, we laughed. Should we have done? Plenty of church people had adopted a Christian attitude to the woman: ‘I hope she doesn’t get treated like that when she is mourning a loved one.’ But could this be an example of Romans 1 justice, where God gives up those who reject him to the consequences of their actions – in this case, the woman’s unrighteous anger? Were we right to laugh? Or should we have been saddened for her? It hardly compares with the longing of persecuted Christians for judgment on their tormentors in Revelation, but was justice done, or were we taking a perverse pleasure in an ungodly love of vengeance?

Thoughts, anyone?

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Tomorrow’s Sermon: Causes And Cures Of Spiritual Blindness

Luke 24:13-35

Introduction
At ninety-one, Ron was distraught when he had to stop driving. The rest of us
at church thought he had been a marvel, continuing behind the wheel to such an
age. But he was suffering from age-related macular degeneration, the most
common cause of sight loss in our country, a currently incurable condition.

The Emmaus Road is a story about blindness and sight, but it
is about curable blindness. When Jesus joins the two disciples on the road, we
read that ‘their eyes were kept from recognising him’ (verse 16). Their
physical inability to recognise Jesus is connected with a spiritual blindness.
Easter is about blindness and sight: all are blind to the Risen Christ, but who
is willing to be healed, and who will choose to remain blind to him? Hence,
this morning, I want us to think about the causes of spiritual blindness, and
the ways in which the Risen Christ heals us and enables us to see him.

1. Causes of
Blindness

Spiritual blindness is a common malady. John Newton captured it in the hymn
‘Amazing Grace’ when he wrote, ‘I once was blind, but now I see’. Finding God’s
grace in Christ is like our eyes opening.

However, blindness of spirit is not limited to those outside
the community of faith. It occurs inside. That’s what happens in our story, and
in other places in the Gospels. The disciples just don’t seem to understand
what Jesus is driving at. Many preachers will know about this phenomenon. We
preach our hearts out, trying to communicate something of the Gospel, but
somebody comments afterwards how they liked a story or a joke, but never
engages with what we were trying to say through that story. They are like the
people who enjoyed Jesus’ parables, but never found the kingdom of God that was
their subject.

So to our story. Luke doesn’t say how ‘[the disciples’] eyes
were kept from recognising [Jesus]’. A popular suggestion in church history has
been to say that God kept them from seeing that the stranger was his Son.
However, there is a similarly worded event in Luke 18:34, where the disciples
don’t take in Jesus’ prophecy of his then-forthcoming betrayal, suffering and
death. The idea that God wouldn’t want them to understand that seems strange.
There are probably other reasons for their blindness.

If it wasn’t God, then might this be a satanic blinding?
That’s a tricky thing to say. Many Christians find it difficult to believe in
the existence of Satan and the Satanic. That isn’t surprising given the extreme
and irresponsible ways in which some other Christians speak about the devil.

But denying the devil’s existence runs into the buffers,
too. For Jesus clearly believed in his existence. Then we have to face our
Christian confession of Jesus as Lord. It’s inadequate to say that Jesus was a
child of his time, as if he were constrained only to believe the same as his
contemporaries. He’s not much of a Saviour and Lord on that account. Whatever the
behaviour of the Christian lunatic fringe on this issue, we are bound to accept
Jesus’ view of the demonic. As C S Lewis
famously wrote in The
Screwtape Letters
,

There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race
can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other
is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They
themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a
magician with the same delight.

It is perfectly likely that if we have an enemy of our
souls, he will want to blind us to the truth of God in Christ. He will distract
us, or get us to focus on the trivial instead of the profound – anything to
prevent us from engaging with all that the truth of Christ crucified and risen
means for us and for creation.

However, none of this is to take away personal
responsibility for spiritual blindness. ‘The devil made me do it’ just won’t do
as an excuse. If we were only talking about demonically caused spiritual
blindness, Jesus would not have rebuked the two disciples with the words, ‘Oh,
how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets
have declared!’ (Verse 25). Like Cleopas and his companion on the road, we are
foolish and slow of heart.

On the one hand, it is not that obvious if you just read the
Old Testament that the Messiah would suffer, die and be raised, and so you
might feel some sympathy for the disciples. On the other hand, Jesus had explained
this several times to them. Part of our spiritual blindness is similar: Jesus
has told us certain things repeatedly, yet either we don’t believe them or we
don’t put them into practice. If that were the case, then it would hardly be
surprising if we made little progress in our spiritual growth and witness.

So when we read that Jesus interprets the Scriptures
concerning himself, beginning with Moses and the prophets (verse 27), he is
surely telling them little new. Rather, he is recapping what he had previously
taught them. It’s like the story of the preacher who kept preaching the same
sermon every week. ‘When are you going to preach a different sermon?’
complained his congregation. ‘When you start obeying this one,’ the minister
retorted.

Spiritual blindness, then, has at least two causes. One is
that of our spiritual enemy, who will do all he can to distract us from the
promises of the Gospel and the power of God. We need to be alert to his
tactics, so that we focus on Christ. The other cause is our own slowness to
believe and act upon what we have learned of the Gospel over the years.
Christian truth is not simply something to accumulate in our brains: it is
something we live out each day. If we don’t, then the muscles in our spiritual
eyes become lazy.

2. Cures for
Blindness

Two causes – and two cures. Jesus’ first treatment for spiritual blindness is
his exposition of the Scriptures. Not just the Scriptures themselves, but also Jesus’ exposition of them. The
Scriptures are God’s Word written, but without Jesus speaking their meaning to
the two companions on the Emmaus Road, they never would have grasped the
meaning, and their hearts would never have burned within them at the thrill of
prophecy fulfilled (verse 32).

It is similar for us. The Scriptures faithfully relay the
message of God’s kingdom, but despite containing their world-changing message,
it’s possible to read them and find no life or inspiration. We too need Jesus
to interpret the Scriptures to us. We need the help of the Holy Spirit for them
to come alive and for us to see Jesus at the centre of their message. It makes
sense to seek the Holy Spirit’s help. Since the Spirit supervised the human
authors of the Bible, and since the Spirit’s work is also to point to Jesus, it
all fits with the Scriptures coming alive for us, and pointing to Christ.

How, then, might we seek the Holy Spirit’s help, so that as
we read the Scriptures, the scales fall from our eyes and we meet Jesus through
their pages?

I believe it is about seeking the Holy Spirit within us and
among us. We seek the Holy Spirit’s work within our own lives, as we pray. In humble
dependence, we ask for the Spirit’s illuminating work as we read, reflect and
meditate upon the written Word. We seek the Holy Spirit among us, as we expect
the Spirit to be in the midst of God’s family. To that end, we ask the Spirit not
only to illuminate us privately, but also as we discuss the Scriptures in
fellowship, and as we seek wisdom from wider circles than our own church family
when reading books or listening to sermons or podcasts.

So this is the first cure for spiritual blindness. We seek
the empowering of the Holy Spirit as we read the Scriptures, that Jesus may be
revealed to us.

The second cure comes at the meal. If Cleopas and his
companion looked back and realised that their hearts were burning as Jesus
opened the Scriptures to them, the other eye-opening moment is at the meal
table. They invite Jesus in, rather like the ways in which Abraham and Lot
unwittingly offered hospitality to angelic visitors (Genesis 18:3; 19:2). It’s
also rather similar to the feeding of the five thousand, where the pivotal
point was that ‘the day was drawing to a close’ (Luke 9:12). This was, after
all, the customary time for the main meal of the day[1],
and the two disciples belonged to a culture that valued hospitality.

Jesus, then, is invited in as an honoured guest. But that
isn’t how he behaves. As he takes the bread, gives thanks, breaks it and shares
it, he is the host of the meal. His actions echo both the feeding of the five
thousand and the institution of the Lord’s Supper, and the penny drops. It’s
Jesus! He is alive, as the women had
said! He has made himself known to them in breaking bread.

So where do the scales fall from the eyes this time? At Holy
Communion? I would hope so. The sacrament is certainly a place where Jesus
makes himself known: it’s more than a memorial service. However, Jesus will not
be limited to ‘churchy’ environments, and at Emmaus, he doesn’t celebrate an
early version of the sacrament. What he does is what any Jewish host would have
done at any meal in those days. Thus, he reveals himself to the two disciples
at a regular meal. It is here, in the stuff of ordinary life, that he makes
himself known.

This is why our Salvation Army friends don’t celebrate the
sacrament. While I believe they’re wrong to do that, they remind us of an
important point, that Jesus is there to be encountered at any meal, and – I would
suggest – in any part of life. The universe is his parish.

In our house, if Rebekah wakes up before me, she likes to
creep in and tickle my feet to wake me up. I hate having my feet tickled! She attempts
to surprise me with her presence. On the road and at Emmaus, we see Jesus
surprising two of his friends with his presence. Be prepared for Jesus to
surprise you! Nowhere is off limits to Jesus. Like an itinerant doctor, he
travels everywhere, curing people of spiritual blindness to him.

However, just because he turns up unexpected and surprises
us, it does not follow that we should leave it to him. If we know that
everywhere in creation is his domain (because his death redeems all creation),
then we have a challenge to look out for him. It’s not exactly a ‘Where’s
Wally?’ cartoon, but if we are in the dark, we can be encouraged with the
expectation that wherever we go, Jesus is not far away to lighten our darkness.
Unlike Wally, he isn’t hiding from us. Rather, he’s actively seeking us out. As
he looks for us, we can look for him.

Conclusion
The Resurrection, then, is God’s cure for spiritual blindness. We may have
become blind through our own negligence, or by not being wise to the
diversionary tactics of the enemy. But the light of the Risen Christ is
brighter than the darkness. His Spirit makes the Scriptures come alive for us,
and Christ himself is looking to meet us here, there and everywhere. He makes
all of life a sacred journey where we may meet him travel with him and eat with
him. Let us invite the Risen Lord to open our eyes to his presence, so that we
may walk with him in his ways.

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