Bono receives his award from the NAACP and climbs into a pulpit here. Link via Tall Skinny Kiwi.
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Dave Faulkner. Musings of an evangelical Methodist minister.
Bono receives his award from the NAACP and climbs into a pulpit here. Link via Tall Skinny Kiwi.
powered by performancing firefox
(1 Chronicles
29:6-19😉 Acts 7:44-50
Introduction
‘It’s on the tip of my tongue. It’ll come to me in a minute.
No – it’s not coming. As soon as I get home I’ll remember.’
Are these familiar words to you? We call it ‘having a senior
moment.’ Memory loss caused by age.
And in Acts 7 Stephen accuses the religious authorities of
having a senior moment. Time has passed and they have forgotten something
important. He has been brought before them accused of ‘speaking against this
holy place [the Jerusalem
Temple] and the law’
(6:13). Had we read on, we would have heard how he had criticised their
approach to the Jewish Law. But in these verses we hear the climax of his case
against their attitude to the Temple.
And his case is that theirs is a wilful senior moment. They have deliberately forgotten important
principles about God and worship behind the construction of the Temple. They have
detached themselves from their spiritual history and distorted faith into
religion. Like his Saviour, Stephen had every right to criticise. And like his
Saviour, he would die for his troubles, asking God to forgive his killers as he
passed away.
Today I want to say that I fear we too have ‘senior moments’
when it comes to the question of holy places and worship. I’m rather hoping you
won’t stone me – but I am sure it is true. I saw it most vividly in my first
ministry appointment. I was told as soon as I arrived that the church had a
catchphrase: ‘Flo won’t like it.’ And Flo never did like it. I soon discovered
why. Flo’s late husband had, in the early 1960s, put many thousands of his own
money into the fund for a new church building. So woe betide anyone who
proposed change. She idolised the building. It was like a monument to her late
husband, an empty mausoleum, lacking one thing – his body.
We develop an imbalance, if not at times an obsession with
our places of worship that lead us from faith to religion. And that’s not a
journey worth taking.
Stephen refers to the tent and the temple. His basic
criticism is that ‘the Most High does not dwell in houses made by human hands’
(verse 48). You’re domesticating God, keeping him in one place like a pet, he
says. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’re saying that the God who made all
creation is limited to a particular time and place. This is what other
religions believed – that God was limited to certain territory. In other words,
it’s paganism pure and simple.
And when we idolise our holy places we are turning God
either into a pet or a pagan idol, not the Almighty Creator, Father, Son and
Holy Spirit. So I think it would be worth us playing with Stephen’s categories
of tent and temple – both of which were commanded or permitted by God – and
exploring what they might say about true worship.
1. Tent
Stephen reminds his accusers that their ancestors in the
wilderness had the tent of the testimony as the place denoting special
encounters with God. That tent came into the Promised Land with Joshua, and
things only changed substantially with David’s request, once the kingdom is
secure, to build a temple.
The tent, then, is the model of worship gathering for a
nomad people, a pilgrim people. Not that God is portable but that wherever we
go, God is there. And more importantly, where God goes, we are to go.
So it is an image that calls us to recall the possibility
and desirability of worshipping God anywhere and everywhere. For those of us
who worship in a fixed building it is that memory jog that worship doesn’t end
with the blessing at the close of a Sunday service. That is simply when the
week’s worship begins.
The tent becomes a reminder to pay attention for the
presence of God wherever we go. If we have the eyes to see and the ears to
hear, then we shall sense God present at the office, despite all the company
politics; we shall find him in the TV and the newspaper; we shall find him in
the midst of our families and on our journeys.
Susannah Wesley, mother of John, Charles and many other
children, found the presence of God in the midst of hectic family life by
throwing her apron over her face and having her own private sanctuary with God.
The power of her prayer life was surely significant in what God did through
John and Charles.
For me, a music lover, I recall going into a record shop (if
you really can call them that any more) where the front window had had some
distasteful displays. In this murky place I was suddenly aware of a deep peace
within and I realised I was not alone. Of course I was not alone! The presence
of God was truly there and my heart lifted to him.
It was the same once when I bought a CD by the country
singer Emmylou Harris called Stumble Into Grace. It sounds
like a religious title, doesn’t it? But Emmylou Harris has had Christian
friends in the music industry for many years without ever finding faith in
Christ for herself. Yet when I put on the CD the opening song, ‘Here I Am’, had
lyrics that might just as well have been written by someone who believes. Let
me read you the third and fourth verses, because I think you can read this as
an appeal from God:
I am in the blood of your heart
The breath of your lung
Why do you run for cover
You are from the dirt of the earth
And the kiss of my mouth
I have always been your lover
Here I am
I am the promise never broken
And my arms are ever open
In this harbor calm and still
I will wait until
Until you come to me
Here I am
And an appearance of God in the everyday world happened
quite clearly to Debbie and me recently. Our daughter is a pre-school; our son
will be soon, too. Debbie is on the pre-school committee. But the pre-school
has been having a rocky time. A lot of parents have seen the gleaming lights of
a nearby rival that receives a huge amount of council funding. It is like the
supermarket dwarfing the corner shop and threatening the latter’s existence.
One night a desperate email came in from our pre-school’s treasurer, saying that
if the current trend continued, then ‘god help us.’
‘God help us.’ Something rose in Debbie and me as we read
those words. It was that moment of inbreaking, that sense that God could help
the pre-school, that knowledge that God wasn’t confined to a religious
location. We set out to pray. Every day that we prayed another set of parents
signed up their child for the pre-school. Things aren’t sorted yet, but now two
out of five mornings are full. This is ‘tent spirituality’ – the belief that
God is available everywhere to be prayed to, worshipped and encountered.
It is the same ‘tent spirituality’ that is seen in the
coming of Jesus. ‘The Word became flesh and dwelt among us’, says John 1:14.
But ‘dwelt’ is too tame a translation. More literal is ‘The Word became flesh
and tabernacled among us’, or ‘The
Word became flesh and pitched his tent
among us.’ Jesus is the embodiment of tent spirituality. God takes flesh and
gets stuck into the world. This is the arena for our worship, our divine
encounter, every bit as much as what we are doing now. Sunday is a gathering,
and it is representative of all our worship. But Jesus has pitched a tent, a
tabernacle, in the world, and he calls us to meet and worship him there too, if
we are to be people of faith and not merely of pagan religion.
2. Temple
You could say that Stephen’s fundamental criticism was that
the religious leaders were treating the Temple as ‘the house of God’, for he
says, ‘the Most High does not dwell in houses made by human hands’ (verse 48)
and promptly quotes Isaiah 66 in support. Yet God had looked for no more than a
place for his Name to dwell. The Temple
wasn’t his initiative. He acceded to a request from David, who had enjoyed his
favour (verse 46) and then gave instructions as to exactly how it should be
constructed.
In other words, it was one of those times when God
accommodated himself to human wishes. Yes, he was present in great power when
the Temple was
dedicated. Yes, wonderful things would happen there. Yes, our reading from 1
Chronicles depicts glorious and passionate worship. But then God hadn’t wanted Israel to have
a king, either, but once they went down that route he made it clear at least at
first who should be chosen. David was his second candidate, following Saul. And
although he didn’t want Israel
to have a king he would in later times inspire prophets to see ‘king’ as a
model for his coming Messiah.
So just because God agrees to one of his people’s requests
and even then blesses it does not mean it is his best will. Sometimes in his
grace he goes along with our second-best ideas. I happen to think that in the
contemporary church he does that with ordination. I believe our ideas about who
should be ordained do not remotely match the greater vision God has. Yet he
uses our short-sighted views of life and graciously blesses them.
With temple, God uses the imagery just as he used the ‘king’
imagery for the Messiah. And ‘temple’ for the New Testament-literate Christian
conjures up important references to Jesus and the Holy Spirit.
In terms of Jesus, we find his own reply when he cleared the
moneychangers from the Temple
to those who challenged his authority. ‘Destroy this temple and I will raise it
again in three days,’ he said (John 2:19). He was referring not to the physical
temple but his own death and resurrection (John 2:21). The crucified and risen
Lord is our temple. Central to our worship is our devotion to him. To be temple
people in the New Testament sense is to be disciples of Christ. And had we read
on to the next few verses of Acts 7, we would have found Stephen berating the
religious establishment for rejecting Jesus.
So it’s not the building that matters, whatever English Heritage or other bodies
say. It’s Jesus. If we are consumed with bricks and mortar instead of being
devoted to Jesus then we have defaulted to religion instead of faith. This is
not an argument for plain buildings over ornate ones; it is an argument about
priorities. Which takes up more of our time in church: property or discipleship?
It’s not only Jesus; it’s also the Holy Spirit, as I said,
who is a reference for Christians seeking out true temple worship. Let us go to
1 Corinthians. In chapter 3 verse 16 we read that we are God’s temple and the
Holy Spirit lives in us; and in chapter 6 verse 19 we read that our bodies are
a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in us. To be ‘temple worshippers’ today,
then, means a commitment to holy living. Whatever we do and say on Sunday needs
matching by whatever we do and say on Monday.
The story is told of a Christian businessman who was asked
his priorities. ‘On Sunday it is God first, family second and work third,’ he
replied. ‘On Monday the order is reversed.’ I suggest to you he was not a
temple worshipper in the New Testament sense. Reversing the order and putting
God last is pretty certain to mean he would do his work in an unholy way. It is
not the way a disciple of Jesus is meant to behave. It is not worshipful.
Conclusion
The notion of ‘temple’ has historically been associated with
the church being at the centre of the nation’s life, just as the Jerusalem Temple was for the Jewish people. But
recent events and not least the current debate over the Sexual Orientation
Regulations and the insistence of some Government ministers who apparently want
to face
down the church, especially the Roman Catholic Church, shows clearly we are
not at the centre of the nation by any means.
We need to keep the ‘temple’ sense of being disciples of our
crucified and risen Lord, seeking to live holy lives in the power of the Holy
Spirit. But as the Church of England’s ‘Mission-Shaped Church’ report says, the
‘tent’ model may be more relevant today than the ‘temple’ – especially if the
latter deludes us into expecting we are privileged, because we are not any
more.
Or to put it this way – Philip Yancey in his recent book Prayer:
Does It Make Any Difference? tells
the account of a spiritual seeker who
interrupted a busy life to spend a few days in a monastery. ‘I hope your stay
is a blessed one,’ said the monk who showed the visitor to his cell. ‘If you
need anything, let us know and we’ll teach you how to live without it.’
(page 45)
Our call may well be to do without the trappings of temple
whilst keeping the principles of devotion to Jesus in the power of the Spirit,
whilst also embracing a tent spirituality of worshipping not only when we
gather but also when we disperse into the world.
Technorati Tags: worship, church, tabernacle, temple, Susannah+Wesley, John+Wesley, Charles+Wesley, Emmylou+Harris, Jesus, incarnation, English+Heritage, Sexual+Orientation+Regulations, Roman+Catholic+Church, Philip+Yancey
(1 Chronicles
29:6-19😉 Acts 7:44-50
Introduction
‘It’s on the tip of my tongue. It’ll come to me in a minute.
No – it’s not coming. As soon as I get home I’ll remember.’
Are these familiar words to you? We call it ‘having a senior
moment.’ Memory loss caused by age.
And in Acts 7 Stephen accuses the religious authorities of
having a senior moment. Time has passed and they have forgotten something
important. He has been brought before them accused of ‘speaking against this
holy place [the Jerusalem
Temple] and the law’
(6:13). Had we read on, we would have heard how he had criticised their
approach to the Jewish Law. But in these verses we hear the climax of his case
against their attitude to the Temple.
And his case is that theirs is a wilful senior moment. They have deliberately forgotten important
principles about God and worship behind the construction of the Temple. They have
detached themselves from their spiritual history and distorted faith into
religion. Like his Saviour, Stephen had every right to criticise. And like his
Saviour, he would die for his troubles, asking God to forgive his killers as he
passed away.
Today I want to say that I fear we too have ‘senior moments’
when it comes to the question of holy places and worship. I’m rather hoping you
won’t stone me – but I am sure it is true. I saw it most vividly in my first
ministry appointment. I was told as soon as I arrived that the church had a
catchphrase: ‘Flo won’t like it.’ And Flo never did like it. I soon discovered
why. Flo’s late husband had, in the early 1960s, put many thousands of his own
money into the fund for a new church building. So woe betide anyone who
proposed change. She idolised the building. It was like a monument to her late
husband, an empty mausoleum, lacking one thing – his body.
We develop an imbalance, if not at times an obsession with
our places of worship that lead us from faith to religion. And that’s not a
journey worth taking.
Stephen refers to the tent and the temple. His basic
criticism is that ‘the Most High does not dwell in houses made by human hands’
(verse 48). You’re domesticating God, keeping him in one place like a pet, he
says. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’re saying that the God who made all
creation is limited to a particular time and place. This is what other
religions believed – that God was limited to certain territory. In other words,
it’s paganism pure and simple.
And when we idolise our holy places we are turning God
either into a pet or a pagan idol, not the Almighty Creator, Father, Son and
Holy Spirit. So I think it would be worth us playing with Stephen’s categories
of tent and temple – both of which were commanded or permitted by God – and
exploring what they might say about true worship.
1. Tent
Stephen reminds his accusers that their ancestors in the
wilderness had the tent of the testimony as the place denoting special
encounters with God. That tent came into the Promised Land with Joshua, and
things only changed substantially with David’s request, once the kingdom is
secure, to build a temple.
The tent, then, is the model of worship gathering for a
nomad people, a pilgrim people. Not that God is portable but that wherever we
go, God is there. And more importantly, where God goes, we are to go.
So it is an image that calls us to recall the possibility
and desirability of worshipping God anywhere and everywhere. For those of us
who worship in a fixed building it is that memory jog that worship doesn’t end
with the blessing at the close of a Sunday service. That is simply when the
week’s worship begins.
The tent becomes a reminder to pay attention for the
presence of God wherever we go. If we have the eyes to see and the ears to
hear, then we shall sense God present at the office, despite all the company
politics; we shall find him in the TV and the newspaper; we shall find him in
the midst of our families and on our journeys.
Susannah Wesley, mother of John, Charles and many other
children, found the presence of God in the midst of hectic family life by
throwing her apron over her face and having her own private sanctuary with God.
The power of her prayer life was surely significant in what God did through
John and Charles.
For me, a music lover, I recall going into a record shop (if
you really can call them that any more) where the front window had had some
distasteful displays. In this murky place I was suddenly aware of a deep peace
within and I realised I was not alone. Of course I was not alone! The presence
of God was truly there and my heart lifted to him.
It was the same once when I bought a CD by the country
singer Emmylou Harris called Stumble Into Grace. It sounds
like a religious title, doesn’t it? But Emmylou Harris has had Christian
friends in the music industry for many years without ever finding faith in
Christ for herself. Yet when I put on the CD the opening song, ‘Here I Am’, had
lyrics that might just as well have been written by someone who believes. Let
me read you the third and fourth verses, because I think you can read this as
an appeal from God:
I am in the blood of your heart
The breath of your lung
Why do you run for cover
You are from the dirt of the earth
And the kiss of my mouth
I have always been your lover
Here I am
I am the promise never broken
And my arms are ever open
In this harbor calm and still
I will wait until
Until you come to me
Here I am
And an appearance of God in the everyday world happened
quite clearly to Debbie and me recently. Our daughter is a pre-school; our son
will be soon, too. Debbie is on the pre-school committee. But the pre-school
has been having a rocky time. A lot of parents have seen the gleaming lights of
a nearby rival that receives a huge amount of council funding. It is like the
supermarket dwarfing the corner shop and threatening the latter’s existence.
One night a desperate email came in from our pre-school’s treasurer, saying that
if the current trend continued, then ‘god help us.’
‘God help us.’ Something rose in Debbie and me as we read
those words. It was that moment of inbreaking, that sense that God could help
the pre-school, that knowledge that God wasn’t confined to a religious
location. We set out to pray. Every day that we prayed another set of parents
signed up their child for the pre-school. Things aren’t sorted yet, but now two
out of five mornings are full. This is ‘tent spirituality’ – the belief that
God is available everywhere to be prayed to, worshipped and encountered.
It is the same ‘tent spirituality’ that is seen in the
coming of Jesus. ‘The Word became flesh and dwelt among us’, says John 1:14.
But ‘dwelt’ is too tame a translation. More literal is ‘The Word became flesh
and tabernacled among us’, or ‘The
Word became flesh and pitched his tent
among us.’ Jesus is the embodiment of tent spirituality. God takes flesh and
gets stuck into the world. This is the arena for our worship, our divine
encounter, every bit as much as what we are doing now. Sunday is a gathering,
and it is representative of all our worship. But Jesus has pitched a tent, a
tabernacle, in the world, and he calls us to meet and worship him there too, if
we are to be people of faith and not merely of pagan religion.
2. Temple
You could say that Stephen’s fundamental criticism was that
the religious leaders were treating the Temple as ‘the house of God’, for he
says, ‘the Most High does not dwell in houses made by human hands’ (verse 48)
and promptly quotes Isaiah 66 in support. Yet God had looked for no more than a
place for his Name to dwell. The Temple
wasn’t his initiative. He acceded to a request from David, who had enjoyed his
favour (verse 46) and then gave instructions as to exactly how it should be
constructed.
In other words, it was one of those times when God
accommodated himself to human wishes. Yes, he was present in great power when
the Temple was
dedicated. Yes, wonderful things would happen there. Yes, our reading from 1
Chronicles depicts glorious and passionate worship. But then God hadn’t wanted Israel to have
a king, either, but once they went down that route he made it clear at least at
first who should be chosen. David was his second candidate, following Saul. And
although he didn’t want Israel
to have a king he would in later times inspire prophets to see ‘king’ as a
model for his coming Messiah.
So just because God agrees to one of his people’s requests
and even then blesses it does not mean it is his best will. Sometimes in his
grace he goes along with our second-best ideas. I happen to think that in the
contemporary church he does that with ordination. I believe our ideas about who
should be ordained do not remotely match the greater vision God has. Yet he
uses our short-sighted views of life and graciously blesses them.
With temple, God uses the imagery just as he used the ‘king’
imagery for the Messiah. And ‘temple’ for the New Testament-literate Christian
conjures up important references to Jesus and the Holy Spirit.
In terms of Jesus, we find his own reply when he cleared the
moneychangers from the Temple
to those who challenged his authority. ‘Destroy this temple and I will raise it
again in three days,’ he said (John 2:19). He was referring not to the physical
temple but his own death and resurrection (John 2:21). The crucified and risen
Lord is our temple. Central to our worship is our devotion to him. To be temple
people in the New Testament sense is to be disciples of Christ. And had we read
on to the next few verses of Acts 7, we would have found Stephen berating the
religious establishment for rejecting Jesus.
So it’s not the building that matters, whatever English Heritage or other bodies
say. It’s Jesus. If we are consumed with bricks and mortar instead of being
devoted to Jesus then we have defaulted to religion instead of faith. This is
not an argument for plain buildings over ornate ones; it is an argument about
priorities. Which takes up more of our time in church: property or discipleship?
It’s not only Jesus; it’s also the Holy Spirit, as I said,
who is a reference for Christians seeking out true temple worship. Let us go to
1 Corinthians. In chapter 3 verse 16 we read that we are God’s temple and the
Holy Spirit lives in us; and in chapter 6 verse 19 we read that our bodies are
a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in us. To be ‘temple worshippers’ today,
then, means a commitment to holy living. Whatever we do and say on Sunday needs
matching by whatever we do and say on Monday.
The story is told of a Christian businessman who was asked
his priorities. ‘On Sunday it is God first, family second and work third,’ he
replied. ‘On Monday the order is reversed.’ I suggest to you he was not a
temple worshipper in the New Testament sense. Reversing the order and putting
God last is pretty certain to mean he would do his work in an unholy way. It is
not the way a disciple of Jesus is meant to behave. It is not worshipful.
Conclusion
The notion of ‘temple’ has historically been associated with
the church being at the centre of the nation’s life, just as the Jerusalem Temple was for the Jewish people. But
recent events and not least the current debate over the Sexual Orientation
Regulations and the insistence of some Government ministers who apparently want
to face
down the church, especially the Roman Catholic Church, shows clearly we are
not at the centre of the nation by any means.
We need to keep the ‘temple’ sense of being disciples of our
crucified and risen Lord, seeking to live holy lives in the power of the Holy
Spirit. But as the Church of England’s ‘Mission-Shaped Church’ report says, the
‘tent’ model may be more relevant today than the ‘temple’ – especially if the
latter deludes us into expecting we are privileged, because we are not any
more.
Or to put it this way – Philip Yancey in his recent book Prayer:
Does It Make Any Difference? tells
the account of a spiritual seeker who
interrupted a busy life to spend a few days in a monastery. ‘I hope your stay
is a blessed one,’ said the monk who showed the visitor to his cell. ‘If you
need anything, let us know and we’ll teach you how to live without it.’
(page 45)
Our call may well be to do without the trappings of temple
whilst keeping the principles of devotion to Jesus in the power of the Spirit,
whilst also embracing a tent spirituality of worshipping not only when we
gather but also when we disperse into the world.
Technorati Tags: worship, church, tabernacle, temple, Susannah+Wesley, John+Wesley, Charles+Wesley, Emmylou+Harris, Jesus, incarnation, English+Heritage, Sexual+Orientation+Regulations, Roman+Catholic+Church, Philip+Yancey
(1 Chronicles
29:6-19😉 Acts 7:44-50
Introduction
‘It’s on the tip of my tongue. It’ll come to me in a minute.
No – it’s not coming. As soon as I get home I’ll remember.’
Are these familiar words to you? We call it ‘having a senior
moment.’ Memory loss caused by age.
And in Acts 7 Stephen accuses the religious authorities of
having a senior moment. Time has passed and they have forgotten something
important. He has been brought before them accused of ‘speaking against this
holy place [the Jerusalem
Temple] and the law’
(6:13). Had we read on, we would have heard how he had criticised their
approach to the Jewish Law. But in these verses we hear the climax of his case
against their attitude to the Temple.
And his case is that theirs is a wilful senior moment. They have deliberately forgotten important
principles about God and worship behind the construction of the Temple. They have
detached themselves from their spiritual history and distorted faith into
religion. Like his Saviour, Stephen had every right to criticise. And like his
Saviour, he would die for his troubles, asking God to forgive his killers as he
passed away.
Today I want to say that I fear we too have ‘senior moments’
when it comes to the question of holy places and worship. I’m rather hoping you
won’t stone me – but I am sure it is true. I saw it most vividly in my first
ministry appointment. I was told as soon as I arrived that the church had a
catchphrase: ‘Flo won’t like it.’ And Flo never did like it. I soon discovered
why. Flo’s late husband had, in the early 1960s, put many thousands of his own
money into the fund for a new church building. So woe betide anyone who
proposed change. She idolised the building. It was like a monument to her late
husband, an empty mausoleum, lacking one thing – his body.
We develop an imbalance, if not at times an obsession with
our places of worship that lead us from faith to religion. And that’s not a
journey worth taking.
Stephen refers to the tent and the temple. His basic
criticism is that ‘the Most High does not dwell in houses made by human hands’
(verse 48). You’re domesticating God, keeping him in one place like a pet, he
says. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’re saying that the God who made all
creation is limited to a particular time and place. This is what other
religions believed – that God was limited to certain territory. In other words,
it’s paganism pure and simple.
And when we idolise our holy places we are turning God
either into a pet or a pagan idol, not the Almighty Creator, Father, Son and
Holy Spirit. So I think it would be worth us playing with Stephen’s categories
of tent and temple – both of which were commanded or permitted by God – and
exploring what they might say about true worship.
1. Tent
Stephen reminds his accusers that their ancestors in the
wilderness had the tent of the testimony as the place denoting special
encounters with God. That tent came into the Promised Land with Joshua, and
things only changed substantially with David’s request, once the kingdom is
secure, to build a temple.
The tent, then, is the model of worship gathering for a
nomad people, a pilgrim people. Not that God is portable but that wherever we
go, God is there. And more importantly, where God goes, we are to go.
So it is an image that calls us to recall the possibility
and desirability of worshipping God anywhere and everywhere. For those of us
who worship in a fixed building it is that memory jog that worship doesn’t end
with the blessing at the close of a Sunday service. That is simply when the
week’s worship begins.
The tent becomes a reminder to pay attention for the
presence of God wherever we go. If we have the eyes to see and the ears to
hear, then we shall sense God present at the office, despite all the company
politics; we shall find him in the TV and the newspaper; we shall find him in
the midst of our families and on our journeys.
Susannah Wesley, mother of John, Charles and many other
children, found the presence of God in the midst of hectic family life by
throwing her apron over her face and having her own private sanctuary with God.
The power of her prayer life was surely significant in what God did through
John and Charles.
For me, a music lover, I recall going into a record shop (if
you really can call them that any more) where the front window had had some
distasteful displays. In this murky place I was suddenly aware of a deep peace
within and I realised I was not alone. Of course I was not alone! The presence
of God was truly there and my heart lifted to him.
It was the same once when I bought a CD by the country
singer Emmylou Harris called Stumble Into Grace. It sounds
like a religious title, doesn’t it? But Emmylou Harris has had Christian
friends in the music industry for many years without ever finding faith in
Christ for herself. Yet when I put on the CD the opening song, ‘Here I Am’, had
lyrics that might just as well have been written by someone who believes. Let
me read you the third and fourth verses, because I think you can read this as
an appeal from God:
I am in the blood of your heart
The breath of your lung
Why do you run for cover
You are from the dirt of the earth
And the kiss of my mouth
I have always been your lover
Here I am
I am the promise never broken
And my arms are ever open
In this harbor calm and still
I will wait until
Until you come to me
Here I am
And an appearance of God in the everyday world happened
quite clearly to Debbie and me recently. Our daughter is a pre-school; our son
will be soon, too. Debbie is on the pre-school committee. But the pre-school
has been having a rocky time. A lot of parents have seen the gleaming lights of
a nearby rival that receives a huge amount of council funding. It is like the
supermarket dwarfing the corner shop and threatening the latter’s existence.
One night a desperate email came in from our pre-school’s treasurer, saying that
if the current trend continued, then ‘god help us.’
‘God help us.’ Something rose in Debbie and me as we read
those words. It was that moment of inbreaking, that sense that God could help
the pre-school, that knowledge that God wasn’t confined to a religious
location. We set out to pray. Every day that we prayed another set of parents
signed up their child for the pre-school. Things aren’t sorted yet, but now two
out of five mornings are full. This is ‘tent spirituality’ – the belief that
God is available everywhere to be prayed to, worshipped and encountered.
It is the same ‘tent spirituality’ that is seen in the
coming of Jesus. ‘The Word became flesh and dwelt among us’, says John 1:14.
But ‘dwelt’ is too tame a translation. More literal is ‘The Word became flesh
and tabernacled among us’, or ‘The
Word became flesh and pitched his tent
among us.’ Jesus is the embodiment of tent spirituality. God takes flesh and
gets stuck into the world. This is the arena for our worship, our divine
encounter, every bit as much as what we are doing now. Sunday is a gathering,
and it is representative of all our worship. But Jesus has pitched a tent, a
tabernacle, in the world, and he calls us to meet and worship him there too, if
we are to be people of faith and not merely of pagan religion.
2. Temple
You could say that Stephen’s fundamental criticism was that
the religious leaders were treating the Temple as ‘the house of God’, for he
says, ‘the Most High does not dwell in houses made by human hands’ (verse 48)
and promptly quotes Isaiah 66 in support. Yet God had looked for no more than a
place for his Name to dwell. The Temple
wasn’t his initiative. He acceded to a request from David, who had enjoyed his
favour (verse 46) and then gave instructions as to exactly how it should be
constructed.
In other words, it was one of those times when God
accommodated himself to human wishes. Yes, he was present in great power when
the Temple was
dedicated. Yes, wonderful things would happen there. Yes, our reading from 1
Chronicles depicts glorious and passionate worship. But then God hadn’t wanted Israel to have
a king, either, but once they went down that route he made it clear at least at
first who should be chosen. David was his second candidate, following Saul. And
although he didn’t want Israel
to have a king he would in later times inspire prophets to see ‘king’ as a
model for his coming Messiah.
So just because God agrees to one of his people’s requests
and even then blesses it does not mean it is his best will. Sometimes in his
grace he goes along with our second-best ideas. I happen to think that in the
contemporary church he does that with ordination. I believe our ideas about who
should be ordained do not remotely match the greater vision God has. Yet he
uses our short-sighted views of life and graciously blesses them.
With temple, God uses the imagery just as he used the ‘king’
imagery for the Messiah. And ‘temple’ for the New Testament-literate Christian
conjures up important references to Jesus and the Holy Spirit.
In terms of Jesus, we find his own reply when he cleared the
moneychangers from the Temple
to those who challenged his authority. ‘Destroy this temple and I will raise it
again in three days,’ he said (John 2:19). He was referring not to the physical
temple but his own death and resurrection (John 2:21). The crucified and risen
Lord is our temple. Central to our worship is our devotion to him. To be temple
people in the New Testament sense is to be disciples of Christ. And had we read
on to the next few verses of Acts 7, we would have found Stephen berating the
religious establishment for rejecting Jesus.
So it’s not the building that matters, whatever English Heritage or other bodies
say. It’s Jesus. If we are consumed with bricks and mortar instead of being
devoted to Jesus then we have defaulted to religion instead of faith. This is
not an argument for plain buildings over ornate ones; it is an argument about
priorities. Which takes up more of our time in church: property or discipleship?
It’s not only Jesus; it’s also the Holy Spirit, as I said,
who is a reference for Christians seeking out true temple worship. Let us go to
1 Corinthians. In chapter 3 verse 16 we read that we are God’s temple and the
Holy Spirit lives in us; and in chapter 6 verse 19 we read that our bodies are
a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in us. To be ‘temple worshippers’ today,
then, means a commitment to holy living. Whatever we do and say on Sunday needs
matching by whatever we do and say on Monday.
The story is told of a Christian businessman who was asked
his priorities. ‘On Sunday it is God first, family second and work third,’ he
replied. ‘On Monday the order is reversed.’ I suggest to you he was not a
temple worshipper in the New Testament sense. Reversing the order and putting
God last is pretty certain to mean he would do his work in an unholy way. It is
not the way a disciple of Jesus is meant to behave. It is not worshipful.
Conclusion
The notion of ‘temple’ has historically been associated with
the church being at the centre of the nation’s life, just as the Jerusalem Temple was for the Jewish people. But
recent events and not least the current debate over the Sexual Orientation
Regulations and the insistence of some Government ministers who apparently want
to face
down the church, especially the Roman Catholic Church, shows clearly we are
not at the centre of the nation by any means.
We need to keep the ‘temple’ sense of being disciples of our
crucified and risen Lord, seeking to live holy lives in the power of the Holy
Spirit. But as the Church of England’s ‘Mission-Shaped Church’ report says, the
‘tent’ model may be more relevant today than the ‘temple’ – especially if the
latter deludes us into expecting we are privileged, because we are not any
more.
Or to put it this way – Philip Yancey in his recent book Prayer:
Does It Make Any Difference? tells
the account of a spiritual seeker who
interrupted a busy life to spend a few days in a monastery. ‘I hope your stay
is a blessed one,’ said the monk who showed the visitor to his cell. ‘If you
need anything, let us know and we’ll teach you how to live without it.’
(page 45)
Our call may well be to do without the trappings of temple
whilst keeping the principles of devotion to Jesus in the power of the Spirit,
whilst also embracing a tent spirituality of worshipping not only when we
gather but also when we disperse into the world.
Technorati Tags: worship, church, tabernacle, temple, Susannah+Wesley, John+Wesley, Charles+Wesley, Emmylou+Harris, Jesus, incarnation, English+Heritage, Sexual+Orientation+Regulations, Roman+Catholic+Church, Philip+Yancey
I’ve been playing my old John Martyn CDs while working at the computer of late. Just now I was burning his 1992 CD BBC Radio 1 Live in Concert and found this quote from the great man in Jeff Griffin’s sleeve notes:
Success is when you know your own worth – all the rest is unnecessary ultimately.
This could be taken in some trashy pop psychology wan, but reading it after hearing elderly people in church tell me they feel worthless when they can do fewer things is sobering and encouraging. For the Christian, knowledge of our own worth starts with being loved graciously and unconditionally by God in Christ.
In the great tradition of dumb lyric writing (favourite example: Thin Lizzy – ‘Tonight there’s going to be a jailbreak, somewhere in this town’ – er, presumably at the jail) comes this contribution from Sheryl Crow in her song ‘Good Is Good’:
And every time you hear the rolling thunder
You turn around before the lightning strikes.
So now we know – sound travels faster than light in Ms Crow’s world.
Technorati Tags: lyrics, Thin Lizzy, Jailbreak, Sheryl+Crow, Good+Is+Good
Today’s Abductive Columns email from Fred Peatross (NB the emails appear on the blog some days later) talks about how the twentieth century was the first in which the church followed rather than led culture. We ended up trying to be culturally relevant rather than culturally innovative. He makes a plea for rediscovering the abilities of artists.
In particular he suggests at the end some examples, including ‘listening to a new rendition of Amazing Grace accompanied by an acoustic guitar’. Which makes me think of two particular examples. One was at our wedding blessing service. Having filled the music with contemporary worship music expertly played by our friends in the band, the final song/hymn was Amazing Grace. Before the service my cousin’s wife had commented upon seeing the order of service, ‘All that lovely music and they’re ending with that boring old hymn!’ What she and most of the congregation didn’t know was that our friend Gary Rossiter, trumpeter extraordinaire, had written a jazz/blues arrangement. It blew the place away – Christians and non-Christians alike.
And the other resonance is this: you have to hear, one day before you die, Daniel Lanois‘ astonishing reworking of Amazing Grace on his Acadie CD with Aaron Neville on lead vocal. I have used it in worship. You need a congregation that is willing to be receptive, though. I used it in place of a sermon.
Technorati Tags: Abductive+Columns, Fred+Peatross, Amazing+Grace, arts, Gary+Rossiter, Daniel+Lanois, Acadie, Aaron+Neville
Leading a service on Sunday night where the musician’s tempo was rather laid back, my mind drifted a little as we sang Michael Saward’s hymn ‘Christ triumphant, ever reigning’. Towards the end of one verse I couldn’t help but notice that the tune ‘Christ triumphant’ (not the other tune, ‘Guiting Power’) bore an uncanny resemblance to The Lumberjack Song.
Do any readers, etc.?
Technorati Tags: Monty+Python, Michael+Saward, Christ+Triumphant, Lumberjack+Song
On Thursday night I was in Chelmsford Cathedral for the inauguration of our new Methodist District. Much of the service was not culturally ‘me’ although it was typically Methodist, but one highlight was the sermon by Tom Stuckey, the Ex-President of the Conference, on Romans 1:8-17. He said that our Districts (and those who chair them) are to be about mission – I was glad to hear that, because much of this reorganisation that has been planned for a few years strikes me as more like rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic.
Tom said that it all starts with passion. Paul says in verse 16, ‘I am not ashamed of the Gospel’. He compared this with the passion Paul demonstrated after arrest in passages such as Acts 26.
But, he said, it’s not enough to have passion: terrorists have a passion. The passion must be driven by vision, and Paul’s vision was that the Gospel ‘is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek’ (verse 16 again). Paul wants to live on a bigger map, he said. His doctrine of justification by faith is a protest on behalf of the Gentiles against Jewish exclusivism (so Professor Jimmy Dunn).
But then comes the question of motivation: how do you keep going with this in what Tom called ‘a tired church’? Here he quoted verse 17 about ‘the righteousness of God’. Passion comes from compasion, and compassion comes from a righteous God who justifies by grace through faith (following Luther).
Somewhere within the sermon he quoted Rowan Williams’ definition of mission, that it is ‘seeing what God is doing in the world and joining in’.
It was a terrific sermon, but a lot hangs on personal interpretation. The Williams definition just quoted is very popular, but it needs teasing out. It could be very appealing to a Methodist theology, because it chimes with a doctrine of ‘prevenient grace’ (i’e., that God is always acting in grace before and ahead of people). Questions arise in terms of how we know what God is doing in the world. If we are not careful we just leap on the latest bandwagons, religious and/or secular. We then end up just as copycats, rather than being the innovative children of the Creator God. But if we do sense the prophetic words and deeds of God going ahead of us, then this is dynamic.
The other part that I would have preferred to have had fleshed out a little more was the section on vision, and justification being a protest against Jewish exclusivism. There is also something quite natural here for Methodist theology. We have our roots in Arminianism rather than Calvinism: ‘for all, for all my Saviour died’ – he did not die merely for the elect. We can resonate with a lot of the social and political concerns for ‘inclusion’ of various sorts. What we can lose sight of is that a Gospel with an inclusive offer ends up as one with an exclusive result. Everything hangs on what we make of the inclusive Gospel offer.
My greatest sadness of the evening happened after the sermon. There was – as I hope I’ve just indicated – a lot to ponder. Space was created for reflection. ‘Parsons’ Noyse‘, a classical trio consisting of three ministers, played some Beethoven. Perhaps people didn’t quite know how to treat this part of the service. The response was to treat it as a recital. The ‘performance’ (and I’m sure the members of Parsons’ Noyse didn’t see it this way) earned applause. And for me the volume of the applause drowned the Gospel challenge that Tom had brought.
Technorati Tags: Chelmsford+Cathedral, Methodist, Tom+Stuckey, mission, Jimmy+Dunn, Luther, Rowan+Williams, Arminianism, Calvinism, Parsons+Noyse, Beethoven
Listening to the new Bruce Cockburn CD ‘Life Short Call Now’ while trying to pick some hymns for Sunday morning. Just thought I’d share a couple of hints of Cockburn’s spirituality that come through in the lyrics:
‘Infinity always gives me vertigo
And fills me up with grace’
(‘Mystery’)‘Spacetime strings bend
World without end
God’s too big to fit in a book
Nothing’s too big to fit in my heart’
(‘To Fit In My Heart’)
Technorati Tags: Bruce+Cockburn, Life+Short+Call+Now, spirituality, lyrics